Yes, it was possible to be more mortified. "Thank you for giving the girls a ride, Senator, and for the lovely necklaces as well."
"My pleasure, and I told them to call me Uncle Joe. I suppose it should be Great-uncle Joe, but that's such a mouthful." He radiated sincerity, as if he always told multiracial slum children to call him uncle.
"How kind of you," Cassie said with a tinge of sharpness. "Calder, perhaps we should find our seats."
"Good idea," Joe said, as if it had been an act of ingenuity on her part.
Once they were seated, Cassie could avoid looking at the impossible combinations of people around them. Gradually the others came to their places at the long table, Cassie's parents and the girls at one end while the Crowleys sat with Joe and Caro at the other. Erin and Scott's seats remained glaringly empty. It was an uncomfortable fifteen minutes before Ann told the waiters to go ahead with serving the meal anyway.
Erin and Scott had still not arrived by the time dessert was served. Caro left her seat and approached Cassie. "We're hoping you and Calder will come back to our hotel for a drink afterwards. We'd like a chance to get to know you."
Cassie didn't need to look at Calder; she could feel his tension. "Thank you, but I'm afraid we can't. After a busy day like this, Calder and I do best if we have some quiet time." She watched his mother for a reaction, wondering if she knew that her son would be feeling overwhelmed by the crowd at the rehearsal and dinner, no matter how pretty his manners were. She didn't see anything, though; she had the feeling her future motherin-law was going to prove very difficult to read. "Perhaps we could manage something tomorrow morning."
"That would be lovely, dear. Tom and Fiona won't be arriving until after lunch, I'm afraid. They're cutting it a little close, but it's hard for him to get away. Would lunch work, or would breakfast be better for you?"
Calder said, "Lunch will be fine."
Cassie winced as Alicia and Teresa spotted their opportunity and swooped down on Joe. Perhaps she could say it was their bedtime and take them back to the house.
Cassie went straight to the telephone when they arrived back at their hotel and dialed Erin's extension. The phone rang several times, long enough to worry her, but finally Erin answered.
"Erin, it's Cassie. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I'm sorry about missing the rehearsal dinner. I hope it wasn't a problem." Her voice seemed oddly stiff.
"Don't worry about that." Cassie could understand why she might want to avoid it after the episode at the church. "But I felt bad about deserting you with the minister." Not to mention Scott.
"It's fine. He was very nice."
If Erin was determined not to tell her what had happened, there was little Cassie could do about it. She wondered what kind of shape Scott was in, if Erin was refusing to talk. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Everything's fine. Don't…"
Cassie heard a rustling, then Scott's amused voice. "She'll talk to you tomorrow, Cassie. We're busy. Good night."
There was a click at the other end. Cassie stared at the phone and laughed.
Chapter 21
CALDER BUTTONED HIS CUFFS carefully. His mother would be certain to notice it was the same shirt he had worn the night before. He could picture the little frown on her face. But it was the only dress shirt he'd brought along, apart from his tux. "I can't believe I'm wasting part of my wedding day having lunch with my parents."
"It could be worse. Your father and I will probably fight enough he won't have energy for you. I can't tell what your mother is thinking, though." Cassie slipped on her black shoes.
"Neither can I—never could. Until Dave told me how she used to be, I assumed she was happy being my father's shadow. Now I don't know what to make of her."
Cassie put her hand on his arm. "It took me forever to learn to read you, and that was with a lot of help from your book. I wish your mother came with a book."
His parents' hotel suite was just what he expected— large and at the most exclusive hotel in the city. There was a linen-covered table for four in the sitting area, with a small buffet off to the side. He had hoped they would be eating in the restaurant. There was less to worry about in public.
His mother evidently decided she should show more interest in her future daughter-in-law. "Is everything ready for the wedding?" she asked Cassie.
"I certainly hope so. But I don't know much about it. Ann Crowley made all the arrangements."
Caro handed Cassie a white plate. "I hope you're not too disappointed you didn't have the chance to plan it yourself."
"Not at all." Cassie helped herself to shrimp salad. "It's hard to put a wedding together on short notice. I'm grateful Ann did it for me, and I'm sure she did a better job than I would have."
"You should have told us about it sooner," said Senator Westing in a manner that suggested no one would question his opinions. "We all need to stand together right now."
"Right now?" Calder asked dryly. So his father was going to ignore the last-minute nature of the wedding.
"Yes, this is a bad business with my brother Stephen," Joe said. "No question it's going to be damaging, but we have to try to contain it. That article in People was a good idea, Calder—helped give people something else to think about. But warn me next time."
"I'm glad you approve," Calder said. As if his father's approval mattered. "Did you ever find out how the story got out?"
Senator Westing scowled. "Not yet. We've learned which editor at the Times assigned the story to the reporters, but my sources haven't been able to find out how he knew there was something to look for in the first place. We will, though, and then there'll be hell to pay."
"So, I'm dying to meet your other son and his wife," Cassie said as she carried her plate to the table. Calder automatically held her chair for her. "Calder has told me lots about Tom, but I haven't heard much about Fiona."
"Fiona is harmless," said Senator Westing dismissively. "She's a good hostess, but she lacks ambition. Tom needs someone who will push him more."
"House of Representatives by, what, age thirty? Doesn't sound like a lack of ambition to me," Cassie said. Calder was glad she was doing the talking. It took the burden off him.
"He could have been there sooner. He needs to make a bigger name for himself, so we can keep the seat in the family when I retire."
"And all this time I've been thinking it was an elective office, not a hereditary fief," she said.
Joe burst out laughing. "Oh, the innocence of youth. It's time for you to start thinking like a Westing."
"I hope you don't think that marrying Calder is going to convince me to vote Republican."
"Oh, that doesn't matter," he said.
"Can I quote you on that?"
"Don't quote me on anything." Joe took his place at the head of the table. "It's probably better for me this way. I have to work with the damn Democrats all the time, and it'll win me some points if I can complain to them about my daughter-in-law, the Democrat. That's more useful than one more Republican vote in Pennsylvania."
"In that case, maybe I'll have to take another look at the Republican candidates." The corners of Cassie's mouth twitched.
"No, just move to Virginia, and we'll run you as a Democrat against Tom, and we'll win either way." He was clearly enjoying himself.
Calder watched the conversation with a certain cynicism. He had no doubt his father was against his marriage, yet at the same time, he seemed delighted with Cassie. Perhaps he recognized her as possessing the audacity his sons lacked, but which he himself had in such ample quantities. He felt a little sick every time Cassie laughed at one of his father's jokes, praying she wouldn't be taken in by him.
His mother gave the appearance of someone who was attending closely to the conversation while being peculiarly absent at the same time. Calder tried to see any evidence of the lively, daring girl Dave had described, but it was impossible. Had she ever been like that? When he was very young she had played with him, and he
distantly remembered games of hide-and-seek around the house. Then that all stopped, and she became the drill sergeant of proper manners and behavior, until he was more frightened of disappointing her than he was of the social occasions she was trying to groom him for.
He remembered, too, a time when he failed, when he was six. His parents trotted him out during a party in his uncle's honor, most likely when he won the vicepresidency. There were a host of political cronies and powerful men in attendance, and he blurted out the wrong thing to the wrong person. His father laughed at the time and sent him up to bed with his nanny. But late that night, he appeared in Calder's room, woke him up, and delivered a tongue-lashing as brutal as the unexpected beating that followed it. It was the only time he remembered his father hitting him, but it was memorable. He cried for his mother, but she didn't come, not until the next day after his father left the house. She brought him something for the pain, and rubbed some liniment gently onto his bruised back, and then quietly but firmly began the lessons that would dominate mealtimes with her for years. He hated it, the endless repetitions of "If someone says such-and-such to you, what should you say?" until the answers were so automatic he could give them even when terrified. He knew from books that other parents read their children stories at bedtime; he had bedtime lessons in public deportment.
Now, as he watched her, he couldn't fault her deportment, but he wondered what lay behind it. Did she ever think of those years and wish she had read him stories instead of teaching him how to behave? He doubted it. He wondered how much of a disappointment he was to her. After all her training, he was choosing a life where his ability to perform in public didn't matter.
The discussion over lunch was illuminating to Cassie. Once Senator Westing managed to stop subtly maligning the members of his family, she discovered he could be a stimulating conversationalist. It was clear where Calder came by his sharp intellect and quick thinking. She could see his father's success in politics lay not only in his ability to charm, but also in his talent for infusing energy into even the dullest subject. It reminded her of Calder's writing ability, the way he engaged a reader's feelings. How easy it would be to be caught up in his father's selfassurance, if it weren't for how he treated her before. She would never trust him, but she understood his famed charisma better now.
Finally it was over. Back in the car with Calder, she let out a deep sigh. "I hope we don't have to do that very often. I'm exhausted." When Calder didn't reply, she looked over at him with concern. "Are you all right?"
He shrugged. "Just thinking."
"What about?"
"You had a good time talking to my father."
"Someone had to keep the conversation going. Your father is smart, funny, and quick on his feet, and I'd rather be in a room with a poisonous snake."
"Really?" He gave her a sidelong glance. "It looked like you were getting along pretty well."
"Calder, I do my best to get along with everyone. Do you think I don't notice those little cuts he makes? The only reason I'm civil to him is because he's your father."
He was quiet for a minute, but she could see his shoulders relax. So he had been unsure of her loyalty to him, just hours before their wedding. This was happening too fast.
Cassie stepped out of the car in front of the church that afternoon to face a barrage of flashes. Startled, she froze for a moment but regained her composure when Dave Crowley materialized, taking her arm and leading her into the church. "Don't worry," he whispered. "We've got security here, and the press know that anyone who tries to ask questions or intrudes will be thrown out."
"How did they find out? I thought no one knew," Cassie said in dismay.
"Who do you think wants full publicity for the fact that he's here and smiling?" Dave said, a note of distaste in his voice. "Never mind. The only photographer inside the church is the one Ann hired. She runs a tight ship."
"And I'm grateful for it," said Cassie. If her picture
was to be splashed all over the papers, she was glad she let Ann talk her into an elegant gown.
Her father was right behind them, looking uncomfortable in a suit and tie, and no doubt even more ill at ease about the cameras. When they paused in the vestibule and Dave slipped away into the church, Cassie wondered how her father felt about giving his eldest daughter away not only to another man, but also to a different world he could barely imagine and would never be comfortable sharing. But she had moved out of his world when she signed up for her first library card at age twelve, and there was no going back. She felt a moment of sadness, realizing how little common ground they ever had beyond living in the same house. She wished she had tried harder to find some interest to share with him. Calder had shown how easy it could be with his sports talk. She had just never made the effort. Her thoughts were interrupted as the doors opened in front of her and her father held out his arm for her. She smiled at him and gave his arm a squeeze as she took it.
The actual service passed in a blur, more like a movie than her own life. Cassie remembered looking into Calder's eyes while saying their vows and seeing both his affection for her and his discomfort at being the center of attention. It didn't begin to feel real until they exchanged rings and she could see the solid proof of their marriage on her own hand. She had a hazy recollection of receiving people's congratulations and passing by a gauntlet of news photographers, no doubt tipped off by Joe Westing.
The reception, in the private room of an elegant restaurant, had few trappings of a traditional reception beyond a wedding cake and place cards, a last minute addition to limit the Westing family's exposure to the other guests. Cassie paid little attention to the food, though everyone else seemed to be enjoying it—everyone except Scott and Erin, who were too busy looking into each other's eyes to notice anything.
When she and Calder started to circulate through the room, their first stop was a duty visit to his family's table, where Calder introduced her to his brother. Tom was a pleasant young man with some of his father's polish but lacking his sharp edges. Cassie chatted with him and his wife briefly and found it hard to imagine Tom and Calder as brothers. Life seemed to have touched Tom Westing only lightly, but she reminded herself how much she had misread Calder at first. Perhaps Tom had hidden depths as well. If so, they were well disguised beneath the veneer of the promising young politician.
Cassie said quietly to Calder, "I want to talk to Jim for a minute. He and Rose have to leave early to catch their flight."
Calder looked across the room to where his father worked the room as if votes from Pennsylvania mattered to him. On an impulse, he said, "Go ahead. I'm going to stay here for a bit." He caught Cassie's eye as he sat down next to his mother, and she nodded slightly.
Deciding to talk with his mother was easier than doing it. She said all the correct things about how lovely the wedding was and how beautiful Cassie looked, the meaningless but proper conversation he detested.
"Your Cassandra is a very nice young woman, Calder.
You've chosen well." Caro Westing's hands were neatly folded in her lap.
Calder kept his shoulders straight, the way she had always insisted upon. "There's no reason to pretend, Mother. I know perfectly well that as soon as my back is turned he's going to be out there trying to break us up."
She arched a perfectly curved eyebrow. "I don't believe so, Calder. He's come to the conclusion she will be good for you."
"Without money and the right connections? I doubt it."
"She has something he values more. She's ambitious. He knows where she started and how far she has come. He thinks she'll make something of you." She might have been speaking of the weather for all the emotion in her voice.
"Of course, I should have known," he said icily. "Whatever makes you happy and keeps him off my back is fine with me."
"No, that's not what makes me happy." She turned to look full at him for the first time in the conversation. "I'm happy because she'll keep you safe. Excuse me, Calder." She rose and walke
d gracefully in the direction of the restrooms. He watched her for a moment, his eyes narrowed, wondering what she really meant.
Cassie hugged Jim, trying to remember the last time she had seen him in a suit. "I'm glad you could come on such short notice."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. You've been leading an exciting life. Not that I'm unhappy about the results, mind you. I always did think he was interested in you, no matter what you said."
"Yes, you can say you told me so. I bet you'll never let me forget it." Thinking about Calder was comforting.
"No, I won't. Especially since Rose got curious when we found out he was a writer and decided to read one of his books."
Cassie blushed fiercely. "Oh, God. I was counting on you scientist types never picking up a book without footnotes. Now I'm embarrassed." A thought suddenly struck her. "I hope Rob hasn't read it."