Authors: Sharyn McCrumb
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. Circumstances had changed! She thought of Alban’s description of Eileen: “extremely dangerous.” Her uneasiness about the situation
had been right! “Who—who called you?” she asked faintly.
“Called me? Nobody called me. It’s so idiotic.” He looked at her carefully for a moment. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer of coffee, if you don’t mind. And then if you want, I’ll tell you about it. It’s really been a trip for me.”
He followed her into the kitchen and watched as she filled the copper kettle, and rummaged around the cabinets for cups and instant coffee.
“Did you have car trouble on the way down?”
“No,” he said, settling down on the kitchen stool. “Y’see, I’m on vacation from the clinic. I have to be back for summer session, but right now I’m off. So instead of going home to New York I figured I’d play tourist and take my time driving down here for the wedding. Eileen’s a nice kid, you know. Did you say you’re her cousin?”
“Yes. Our mothers are sisters.”
“Anyway, she didn’t seem to have many friends, and I know it’s been an adjustment for her, so I promised her I’d come to the wedding. I’ve always wanted to see this part of the country anyway—ever since I saw
Gone With the Wind
as a kid.”
Elizabeth nodded, suppressing an urge to giggle.
“Well, anyway, I drove up to that big national park in the mountains, and I rented a cabin. That was day before yesterday. Commune with nature, you know. I’m from the city myself, but some of my colleagues have been Sierra Clubbing me to death, and I decided what-the-hell, I’d give it a try. So, anyway, I got this cabin, and night before last I’m lying on my bed reading a book when this
thing
flew over my bed. I just saw it out of the corner of my eye, you know? But I threw down my book, and he made another pass. That time I saw it clearly. It was a bat! Ugly little sonuvabitch. Just cruising around my room. I let out a yell and ran for the bathroom, and he followed me. Sat right there in the doorway and peered at me so I couldn’t come out.”
“Why couldn’t you just leave the cabin?”
“I didn’t have too much on, you see. It was a hot night. So I went to the bathroom window and I yelled, ‘Help! Somebody! He’s got me trapped!’ hoping somebody would hear me.”
He was telling all this in a perfectly serious tone of voice, but Elizabeth decided that he knew how absurd it was. Her laughter nearly drowned out the rest of the story. Every time she tried to picture the pudgy Shepherd nude and trapped in the bathroom by a bat, she laughed even harder.
“Did it look like Bela Lugosi?” she managed to say.
Shepherd frowned. “Well, it might have been rabid. Anyway, a couple of minutes later—I’m still in the John in a staring contest with Beady Eyes—somebody kicks in the door to my cabin. This guy had been out tinkering with his car and heard me yell. So I look up and he’s standing in the doorway with a .30/.30, saying ‘Where is he?’ ”
“And you showed him the bat.”
“Well, yeah. I can’t say he was impressed.”
“Did he shoot the poor little—I mean, the monster?” Elizabeth asked.
“No. He put the gun down, sneered, and then shooed it away, so I could get my pants and get out. Luckily I hadn’t unpacked.”
“What happened to the bat?”
Shepherd sighed. “I left right then. I don’t know what happened to the bat. But his rent is paid up through Sunday.”
“Dr. Shepherd,” said Elizabeth, “you’re going to feel right at home here.”
Amanda Chandler’s reaction to the new arrival was impossible to determine from her behavior. When she came back from her expedition at four, laden with packages and demanding to know where everybody was, Elizabeth appeared in the hallway and whispered to her that Dr. Shepherd had arrived and was having coffee in the library.
Immediately her face froze into a chilling smile that did not reach her eyes. She strode briskly into the library with cordial noises and outstretched hands that did not waver even after she had seen the yellow Jung tee shirt.
“Such a privilege to have you!”
Dr. Shepherd apologized for his early arrival, attributing it to an “unforeseen accident in a national park,” and Amanda was all sympathy. She refused to hear of his plans to stay at the Chandler Grove Motel.
“Why, we have more room than they do!” she assured him with an arch smile. “And please don’t think I’m being kind! Why, I’m just as selfish as I can be. I want to have you right here where we can get to know you. And, anyway, some of our out-of-town wedding guests just may need those motel rooms, so there! It’s all settled. You’ll stay here.”
Shepherd, unused to the blitzkrieg form of Southern hospitality, succumbed in a puzzled voice, and shambled off to his car to collect his belongings. When he had gone, Amanda’s smile vanished.
“What can Eileen have been thinking of?” she murmured, glancing at him through the window. “He can’t possibly understand the problems of—of—”
“Of what, Aunt Amanda?” asked Elizabeth.
Remembering that her niece was present, Amanda summoned the wraith of her previous smile. “Why, Elizabeth!” she purred. “You’re going to think I have a silly old thing against Yankees after all these years, but really! —Oh, dear, could you just run out to the kitchen and tell Mildred that there’ll be another guest for dinner? I’m afraid she’ll be cross, but tell her that we are simply martyrs to the unexpected!”
“Martyrs …” murmured Elizabeth, shaking her head as she left. Bill would never believe that line!
She was on her way back from the kitchen when Shepherd appeared again at the front door with a brown suitcase and an armful of books.
“Would you like me to carry something?” she offered.
He shook his head. “I bet I have to go upstairs, right? Upstairs?”
“That’s right. Third bedroom on the left.”
He deposited his belongings in the hall chair. “It can wait. Boy, this is interesting. Seeing people in a social context that I’ve been hearing about for months!”
Elizabeth gasped. “She didn’t! I mean—I wasn’t mentioned, was I?”
Shepherd grinned. “People always ask me that. And I really can’t tell you. Honest. I’ll bet I hear that question ten more times while I’m here.”
“I’ll bet you do.”
“Where’s Eileen?”
“Down by the lake, I guess. She’s working on a painting to give to the groom. Don’t ask me what it’s like, because none of us have seen it.” She leaned forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “Do you think that’s normal?”
“Sure,” said Shepherd cheerfully. “It would take the drama out of the gift if everybody saw it beforehand. That’s a common reaction. Is the groom around?”
“He’s at the library. Do you know him well?”
“Oh, no. Met him once. He came to pick up Eileen after a session.”
“Well, you’ll meet everybody at dinner.”
“Including
him?”
he asked, gesturing toward Albania.
“Very possibly,” said Elizabeth, “but don’t be surprised if he turns out to be sane.”
“Listen,” said Shepherd, “when you’ve got that much money, you’re not crazy. Just eccentric.”
At the other end of the house a door opened.
“Eileen!” called Amanda. “Come in, dear! One of your guests has arrived! Go right out to the front hall and see for yourself!”
A few moments later, Eileen Chandler, in a paint-smeared smock, turned the corner of the hallway. Her face looked tired and strained. When she saw Shepherd smiling at her, she stiffened and stared at him open-mouthed.
“Hello, Eileen. I just—”
“No! I don’t want you here! I don’t want you! Go away!”
Sobbing wildly, she plunged up the stairs to her room.
Elizabeth and Dr. Shepherd exchanged puzzled looks. Amanda, who had been following Eileen down the hall and had witnessed the scene, hurried up to him. “Dr. Shepherd! Really, I must apologize for my daughter’s behavior! Even for a nervous bride, such manners are inexcusable! And I’m going to go right up and tell her so.”
“No, please don’t. You don’t need to apologize, Mrs. Chandler. Eileen is naturally very tense at this time. It’s much more important to understand the underlying—”
He was interrupted by a crash from the upstairs hall, followed by renewed sobbing.
“Was there by any chance a mirror in the upstairs hall?”
Amanda nodded grimly. “There was.”
E
ILEEN’S FAILURE
to appear at dinner was attributed to her fatigue from painting. The family ate at six, which Elizabeth considered unusually early, but no one else seemed to think it was strange.
Amanda, apparently under the impression that two doctors would be ideal dinner companions, had placed Carlsen Shepherd next to her husband, but Dr. Chandler’s monologue on colonial medicine seemed less than successful as a conversational gambit.
“What do you think is really the matter?” Elizabeth whispered to Geoffrey, who was sitting next to her.
“I don’t know. I tapped on her door, but she howled at me to go away. I expect she’d let Satisky in, but he seems to have an aversion to hysterical females, even if he’s engaged to one.”
Across the table, Satisky was cutting his meat with studied concentration. His movements were slow and cautious, as though he were trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
“He seems like a nice guy. Dr. Shepherd, I mean.”
Geoffrey continued to stare at Satisky.
“And, Geoffrey, she did invite him herself.”
“Maybe Mother’s right about wedding nerves,” said Geoffrey.
Alban had not been asked to dinner, but had phoned to say that he would be over later. Elizabeth hoped she would have a chance to talk to him; maybe things would make sense to him.
Amanda had abandoned her role of effusive Southern hostess, and spent most of the meal conversing with Captain Grandfather in a quiet undertone. She ate very little and excused herself early, pleading that she had a headache.
Elizabeth found the tension annoying, so she left the table soon after Amanda did, and went upstairs to Eileen’s room. The door was locked.
“Eileen?” she called, knocking gently. “It’s Elizabeth.”
There was no sound from within. With a sigh, Elizabeth gave up and started to her own room. The empty frame of the mirror stood crookedly against the wall; the glass shards on the floor had already been cleared away by the unobtrusive Mildred. Elizabeth wondered why Eileen chose to hit the mirror: was it deliberate or did she simply lash out at the first thing she saw?
“Elizabeth?”
She turned. Eileen had opened her door partway and stood looking at Elizabeth with a pitiful expression.
“I came up to see if you were all right,” said Elizabeth.
Eileen’s eyes welled with tears. She peered anxiously toward the stairs as if she were afraid that someone else would see her. Impatiently she motioned to Elizabeth. When the door was safely shut behind them, Eileen sat on her bed and hugged a yellow stuffed bear, resting her chin on the top of its head. Elizabeth sat in a chair beside the dresser.
“Everybody is very worried about you,” she said in what she hoped was a sympathetic tone.
“I’ll bet they are! I know what they’re thinking!” Her voice quavered.
Oh, God, thought Elizabeth. If I set off another attack of hysterics, Aunt Amanda will tar and feather me. Soothingly, she said, “You’re just nervous because you’re getting married next week. You have all these plans to cope with, and you’ve been trying to finish that painting. I know what a strain it can be to have to finish something by a certain time. You’re wearing yourself out, aren’t you?”
Eileen looked thoughtful. “The painting. Yes, it has been quite a strain.”
“Of course it has!” said Elizabeth heartily. Eileen looked calmer now. She had put down the stuffed animal and was looking at Elizabeth with an expression of relief. I should have been a psych major, Elizabeth thought with a twinge of satisfaction. “You know, Eileen, I’m sure Michael would understand if you wanted to stop working on the painting until after the wedding.”
“No. It’s almost finished. I’ll be fine. Really. You’re right; I was just tired.”
“There’s no reason you wouldn’t want Dr. Shepherd here, is there?” asked Elizabeth doubtfully. Despite her success in calming Eileen, she still felt that hysterics and mirror-breaking were excessive reactions, even for a nervous bride.
“No, of course not. Dr. Shepherd is very kind. I’ll apologize to him tomorrow.”
“Look, Eileen. You’re worried about something. Why don’t you tell me what it is?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“About what? Worrying? Oh yes I would! Do you realize that I’ve just graduated from college and haven’t the slightest idea what I’m going to do next?”
“Oh,” said Eileen faintly.
“I know I should have thought of that earlier, but I was sort-of-engaged to an architecture major named Austin. Did I tell you about Austin?”
Eileen shook her head. Good, thought Elizabeth, I’ve got her attention. She explained about Austin and the duck pond incident. Eileen actually began to smile when she heard that story, so Elizabeth went into great detail,
describing Austin clambering out of the pond, dripping weeds.
“And I told him if he stayed in there long enough, he might have a
real
alligator on his chest!”
They began to laugh. “He was such a sight!” Elizabeth giggled. “I wish I had a picture of him coming out of that pond!”
Eileen’s smile faded. “Elizabeth, I’m not feeling well. I really think I need to be alone.”
“Well—sure, Eileen …” I wonder what I did to upset her this time? Elizabeth wondered as she closed the door behind her. Curiouser and curiouser.
It was too early for bed, so she went back downstairs to see if Alban had come over as he’d promised, or if Geoffrey were doing anything amusing. She heard voices coming from the library. Hoping that it might be one of them, she opened the door and peeked in.
Alban and Carlsen Shepherd were hunched over the table amidst a pile of papers. Shepherd was scribbling furiously on a small note pad, and Alban was saying, “I’ve been Ludwig of Bavaria for about four years now, and on the whole—”
“Oh, excuse me!” she blurted out. “I’ll go.”