Another Marvelous Thing by Laurie Colwin Page A

wouldn’t marry anyone.
    Billy was not a pursuer, but she grabbed Grey’s sleeve. She was entitled, because they had known each other as children and had never been strangers to one another.
    He turned around and she saw he was somewhat of a stranger—a grown man. Suddenly she was as shy as a child. For an instant she thought he didn’t remember her, but he held her hand and said her name. Then they both smiled with amazing happiness, as if they had just gotten away with an entirely ingenious prank. They were married within six months.
    Billy knew the road to Penny’s grandmother’s by heart. She had stayed there as a child and visited frequently as an adult. In fact, Grey had proposed to her near a swamp off Old Wall Lane, less than a mile from Mrs. Stern’s house. Billy remembered that day clearly: not only had she been proposed to, but she had seen the great blue heron for the first time.
    They turned off the highway and onto the country road. The sun had not yet dried off the dew, and the fat green leaves looked moist and velvety. When they unrolled the windows, the air smelled mild and sweet, of newly cut grass and chamomile.
    Billy leaned back carefully. To be in a car with your husband, going to the wedding of your oldest friend, to visit a place you knew every corner of made life seem as correct, upright, and proper as a Quaker meeting house. The fact that her lawful wedded husband had not, for example, been the first man to set eyes on her new dress was the thorn in the rose, the termite lurking under the wooden porch steps.
    Months ago Penny had taken Billy shopping, dragging her through a number of overheated, very expensive shops and department stores and sending her home with a beautiful blue-and-white-striped linen dress in a fancy box. Once at home alone, Billy climbed out of her teaching suit and back into her old clothes.
    No sooner had she thrown her suit over a chair than the doorbell rang, and Francis Clemens appeared. He looked tenderly at her and remarked: “As always, a vision of radiant loveliness.”
    He closed the door behind him and took her into his arms. He was thirsty for her, but he found her reluctant. Instead of kissing him back, she led him to the kitchen for a cup of tea.
    Their usual pattern was tea and then a trip upstairs to Billy’s cheerless little study to lie in each other’s arms on Billy’s not very comfortable couch. But something final was in the air, and they did not go upstairs. Instead, at Billy’s suggestion, they sat in the living room and drank their tea.
    On the coffee table was the dress box. Francis, who knew one fancy shop from another, recognized it at once.
    â€œDid someone leave this here by mistake?” he said.
    â€œIt’s mine,” Billy said. “It contains an expensive dress.”
    â€œReally,” Francis said. “But that means you intend to wear it somewhere and we know what you think of social life.”
    â€œIt’s a poisoned well,” Billy said. “This is for Penny’s wedding in June. You know who I mean.”
    â€œThe one with the formidable grandmother.”
    â€œThe very one,” Billy said. Penny’s grandmother was the only person in the world who called Billy by her given name of Josephine.
    â€œWell,” said Francis, stretching his legs. “It certainly would be nice to see you in it.”
    Billy sat on the edge of the couch. The idea of trying on this dress, which she would wear to the wedding of her oldest friend, who was one of Grey’s oldest friends, struck her as very wrong. It was a violation of something. She attempted to explain this to Francis, who looked very dark.
    â€œA woman absolves herself of guilt by brushing her teeth in the morning,” he said.
    Billy had never seen him angry before.
    â€œIs that a quote?”
    â€œIt’s a quote from some misogynist Spaniard whose name escapes me at the moment,” said