Gail Bowen - The Glass Coffin

The man in the specialty shop gift-wrapped Jill’s garter gratis and gave Taylor a sprig of real holly tied with a tartan bow for her hair, so we were heading home in high spirits when we ran into Danny Jacobs, Taylor’s arch-enemy from grade three. The attack was swift and lethal. Danny took in Taylor’s curls and snorted. “You know what you look like? One of those Chia Pets. You know – like on TV – Ch-Chi-Ch-Chia.”

Taylor’s eyes widened in horror, then she raced through the mall doors to the parking lot. On the way home, she slumped miserably in the passenger seat, and as soon as we pulled up in front of the house, she ripped the holly out of her hair and bolted. By the time I got inside, she had disappeared, and Angus was standing at the foot of the stairs, shaking his head. “What’s with Taylor? She blazed by me without saying anything. She didn’t even take off her jacket and boots.”

“We ran into Danny Jacobs in the mall,” I said. “He told your sister her new hairstyle made her look like a Chia Pet.”

The corners of Angus’s mouth twitched.

“If you’re going to laugh, go outside,” I said. “Taylor’s already suffered enough.”

When I heard the sound of the shower, I started upstairs. “I’d better see how she’s doing,” I said. “By the way, were there any calls when we were out?”

“A couple for Jill. She seemed kind of upset.”

“Did she say why?”

“Nope. She just said she needed some fresh air. She put Willie on his leash and took off for the park.” Angus lowered his voice. “Do you know what I think? I think she may have changed her mind about getting married.”

My pulse quickened. “What makes you say that?”

“Last night, Bryn told me Jill and her father aren’t in love.”

“Does Bryn think they shouldn’t get married?”

Angus shrugged. “I don’t think she cares. The only thing Bryn’s interested in is moving to New York.”

Remembering how Jill glowed when she talked about having a daughter, my heart sank. Last night Evan had said Jill had to take the father to get the daughter. Now it seemed the daughter had to take Jill to get her New York Moment. Expediency all around. In my opinion, it was a hell of a way to start a new life.

The bathroom door was shut, but unlocked. I rapped a couple of times and when there was no answer, I walked in, sat down on the toilet seat, and waited for Taylor to emerge from the steam. When, finally, she stepped out of the shower stall, her skin was scarlet, her hair dripping, and her lower lip quivering. She thrust her head towards me. “Is it normal now?” she asked.

I picked up a towel and began to dry her hair. “It’s normal,” I said. “After a while, I can do it in French braids if you want.”

The sound she made was somewhere between a snort and a sob. “That’d be okay,” she said, then she streaked to her room. I went downstairs, put on some soup for lunch, and tried not to stare at the phone. By the time Taylor came down, the phone still hadn’t rung. We ate a bowl of chicken with stars and made French braids. When Jill and Willie got back, my daughter was sitting at the kitchen table drawing a cartoon of Danny Jacobs with a thatch of hair that looked as if it had been attacked by termites. Jill glanced at Taylor’s braids and then at me.

“Change of plans,” I said.

Jill poured herself a cup of coffee. “It seems to be the day for it,” she said. “Our judge called this morning. He has the flu, so he’s sending a replacement.”

“We can live with that,” I said. “That little man’s fatuous level was off the charts.”

Jill sat down at the table. “I don’t think you’re going to be so breezy about the next change. Gabe had to go back to New York. Felix is our new best man.”

I felt a flare of panic. “Is everything all right?”

“Apparently, Gabe had a heart flutter,” Jill said tightly. “Evan says he’s a real hypochondriac. Anyway, he went back to New York to be close to his doctor.” Jill rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “Do you think there’s a significant pattern here?”

My mind was racing. “In what way?”

“First the judge, then the best man. I can’t see everything going wrong on the day of my wedding without believing that someone is trying to tell me something. ‘From shadows and symbols into truth.’ That’s what Cardinal Newman said.”

“Where did Cardinal Newman come from?” I asked. “I thought you had fallen away.”

Jill rolled her eyes. “Fallen away, yes, but not unmarked. A Catholic education is like stigmata, perpetually suppurating. It’s been thirty-five years since Sister Phyllis Mary filled me in on what boys want from girls, but I still can’t sit next to a man in a car without remembering that I should leave room for the hips of the Virgin between me and my date.”

Despite everything, I smiled. Jill caught my response. “I know it sounds crazy, but the Church was right about a lot of things. My sex life wouldn’t have been such a disaster if I’d left room for the hips of the Virgin between me and most of the men I’ve known. And you and I are both old enough to know that Cardinal Newman was right about shadows and symbols. Sometimes, no matter how much you want something, it’s suicide not to read the signs.”

As the hour for the wedding grew near, I didn’t need to be a Prince of the Church to know that the gods were not smiling. The box from the florist arrived, but the spray of creamy camellias Jill had ordered to tuck in her hair had been mysteriously replaced by a candy-cane nightmare of spruce cuttings and red and white carnations. Rapti’s attempt to fashion a replacement spray by cutting camellias from the bridal bouquet ended when the Swiss Army knife she was using slipped and sliced her finger so badly that only Angus’s first-aid training saved us from a trip to the medi-centre. As I held the petals under the tap to rinse the blood off, I was shaking.

When the phone rang, I dropped the flowers in the sink and raced to it. From the moment Jill told me that Gabe had bowed out of the wedding, I had been spinning a theory that Gabe’s illness was subterfuge and that somehow he had stumbled upon information that needed to be verified before he could stop a marriage that clearly shouldn’t take place. Considering that we had known each other for only six hours, my faith in him might have seemed bizarre, but I felt that Gabe and I had made a connection that went beyond the tectonic-plate-shifting power of sexual attraction. I hadn’t yet learned the name of his favourite string quartet or how he liked his eggs in the morning, but the night before he had promised to take a walk in the snow with me, and I knew at my core that a fluttering pulse wouldn’t have kept him from honouring his promise.

When I picked up the receiver, I was so prepared to hear Gabe’s Columbo growl that my daughter Mieka’s voice was a shock. She was calling from Davidson, a town halfway between her home in Saskatoon and mine in Regina. The snow had grown so heavy that highway driving was treacherous, and she and her husband had decided to turn back. Mieka loved Jill, and I knew how much she had looked forward to being at the wedding and meeting Jill’s new family. I could hear the disappointment in her voice. I was disappointed too, but as I hung up, I felt an unexpected wash of relief. The omens were not good, and I was glad Mieka and her family would be out of harm’s way.

I’d just finished dressing when Claudia and Bryn arrived. They were alone.

“No Tracy?” I asked, as I helped them off with their coats.

Claudia shook her head. “The older she gets, the longer it takes her to get ready, but she’ll be along.” Claudia locked eyes with me. “Nothing is going to go wrong with this wedding. I want you to know that.” It was impossible to tell from her tone if her words were intended as reassurance or warning. In her champagne silk jacket and skirt, Claudia was a figure of head-turning elegance, but there was steel in her manner. It wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine her pinning her Rottweiler puppies on the ground, showing them that the sooner they recognized she was dominant, the better it would be for everyone.