The Alpine Kindred by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online Page B

the ads together Tuesday to meet deadline.
    My mood had plummeted again as I faced another empty Saturday night. Briefly, I considered checking out the latest offerings at Videos-to-Go, but somehow that seemed like running up the white flag on my personal life. I'd simply stay home and watch the Mariners on TV. Just like Milo was going to do. Just like the way we used to do together.
    The Mariners lost to the Orioles at home.
    On Sunday after Mass, I tried to call my brother Ben in Tuba City, Arizona. He was out, no doubt making the rounds of his parishioners on the Navajo reservation. I longed to call my son in St. Paul, but having chosen to follow in the godly footsteps of his uncle, Adam was onlyallowed a certain number of telephone conversations per month at the seminary. We'd already used up his allotment for May.
    Nor did Vida answer her phone. Perhaps she was with Amy again. Disconsolately, I went out into the backyard, but didn't feel like another bout of gardening. Instead, I watched the Mariners. They lost again, a three-game sweep by Baltimore.
    The phone rang at precisely nine o'clock. “I was right,” Vida said, and sounded disappointed. “Carla and Dean Talliaferro are getting married in November. You'll never guess where.”
    “Where?” I didn't need to guess and be wrong. I'd had enough of losing for one weekend.
    “The Petroleum Museum in Seattle. Now, who on earth gets married in a petroleum museum?” Vida sounded flabbergasted.
    “Carla and Ryan?” I said in a feeble attempt at humor.
    “Oh, honestly! Why can't they get married in a church like sensible people?” Vida heaved a heavy sigh.
    “Maybe because Carla's Jewish and Ryan's not,” I suggested. “With a name like Talliaferro, he may have been raised a Catholic. They might be hedging their bets.”
    “Ridiculous. Who's going to marry them? An auto mechanic?” Vida was no doubt wringing her hands, at least metaphorically.
    “But she came by your house tonight?” I inquired. “Was Ryan with her?”
    “No, she came alone. Apparently they'd driven over to Spokane to visit his parents. They wanted to wait to make the announcement until they'd seen Mr. and Mrs. Talliaferro. I gather they've already conferred with her family in Bellevue.”
    “November?” The date finally struck me. “But thebaby's due in December. Why don't they get married now?”
    “Because Carla wants a big wedding.” Another sigh heaved over the telephone line. “Big is right. Can you imagine? She'll be big as a house!”
    “Well …” I was at a loss for words. “It's their business, after all.”
    “A funny business, if you ask me. Carla will announce all this at work tomorrow, so act surprised. Oh, by the way, her pictures of Einar Rasmussen Jr. didn't turn out. Something happened to her camera. They're reshooting at the RUB tomorrow night.”
    “Why at night?” I asked, now holding my head. “Why not during the day when she can use natural light?”
    “Because Einar Jr. is ever so busy,” Vida replied tartly. “I must go, Emma. The kettle is boiling, and I definitely need a cup of tea after Carla's visit.”
    I didn't blame Vida. I could have used a drink. Instead, I made popcorn and added extra butter.
    Carla duly made her announcement Monday morning. We all gushed, even Leo, who had managed to come to work despite a hacking cough. Not wanting to spoil the euphoria of the moment, I put off asking Carla about the buried gold she'd buried in her warehouse story. That could wait until Tuesday. Or so I thought at the time.
    We were on target for the weekly edition, however, including the special RUB dedication section. I hadn't been in the office when Birgitta Lindholm had come in for her interview, but Vida informed me that the session had gone reasonably well. It was standard fare, my House & Home editor informed me. Birgitta had wanted to see the world, and had decided that being an au pair was a practical way to go.
    It had been a busy day, as