give us all a bright smile.
"I just love parties, I always have, I always will.
Makes the heart beat faster. Makes old bones feel
young again. I can tell it's going to be a jolly smashing
one tonight."
Two or three times Trevor said that--with less
conviction each time, as still not one pair of those
headlights climbed high enough to reach our drive. No
one rang our bell, banged our door knocker.
The musicians were in position under the
rotunda, on a dais that had been constructed especially
for them, centered directly between the curving dual
stairways. They tuned their instruments over and over
again as my feet in their high-heeled fancy slippers
began to ache. I sat again on an elegant chair and
wiggled my shoes off under the folds of my gown,
which was growing heavier and more uncomfortable
by the minute. Eventually Chris sat beside me, and
Bart took the righthand chair, all of us very silent,
almost holding our breaths. Jory had his own special
chair that could buzz him around tirelessly. From
window to window he drove, looking out and
reporting.
I knew that Cindy was upstairs, all dressed and
ready, waiting to be "fashionably" late and impress
everyone when finally she drifted down the stairs. She
had to be growing very impatient.
"They must be coming soon--" Jory said when
the hour reached ten-thirty. "There's lots of banked
snow on the side roads to confuse them . . ." Bart's lips were tight and grim, his eyes stony