Sweeter Than Wine (37 page)

Father Byrne gave the ring--Bill's ring--back to Siegfried, saying, "Now that you
have sealed a truly Christian marriage, give this wedding ring to your bride, saying
after me, 'In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Take
and wear this ring as a sign of our marriage vows.'"

Siegfried followed the directions, taking Alice's hand and slipping on the ring
that she had not taken off in the last five years except to have him put it back on
again.

She was married to him. Again.

Sonoma, Saturday, September 20

Siegfried laughed and joked as the people filed past their short receiving line
on their way into the hall. Standing beside him, her hand clasped firmly in his,
Alice felt the somberness that had clouded her in the church dissipate and vanish.
She felt giddy with happiness despite her new shoes, which pinched her feet
dreadfully and made her long for the moment when she could sit down and
surreptitiously slip them off.

Overwhelmed by the open-handed charity of her friends and neighbors, Alice
sneaked a glance at the buffet table. Everyone had brought dishes and platters of
food. There were deviled eggs, sliced ham, potato salad, bowls of ripe summer
fruit, plates of bratwurst, platters of sliced cheeses, apple strudel, pear tarts, and a
magnificent, tiered cake from Romeo Cantoni's bakery.

There was even champagne, unlabeled, shipped from somewhere in the
City.

Siegfried ate, and drank, and laughed, his hand frequently seeking hers for a
quick squeeze. There were so many people to talk to, so many acquaintances to
acknowledge, so much joy to share.

It seemed only a moment, then it was time to cut the cake. Maria appeared
with an engraved silver knife, her face glowing, and Alice received a quick kiss on
her cheek. "I'm so happy for you," Maria whispered. "You're so lucky."

I
am
lucky
, Alice thought, surprised, as she lowered the knife to
her wedding cake. Siegfried's hand settled over hers, and they pressed down
together. Being here with Siegfried seemed so right. Nothing else mattered any
more--not the opinion of her neighbors, not his wartime service. Only Siegfried
mattered. Dear, sweet, passionate Siegfried. Her husband.

I love him
. The thought sent an intoxicating shock rippling up from the
soles of her feet.
I do! I love him!

Absorbed in her transcendent discovery, she missed the wedding toast, but
came back to herself in time to share a glass of wine with Siegfried. To the din of
good-natured whistles and applause, they fed each other pieces of cake. Alice's
new awareness filled her to overflowing, but she did not know how to tell
Siegfried.

Not now. Not in public. Maybe later, when they were alone...Siegfried placed a
sweet, crumbly morsel between her lips, giving her a slow smile that made her
heart speed up and a slow flutter begin between her thighs.

She smiled back, silently promising him a private feast of something sweeter
than cake.

Another round of hand-shaking and backslapping, and it was time to throw the
bouquet. Alice raised the mass of flowers, hooking a thorn in her thumb, and the
bouquet soared askew.

Maria was standing on the sidelines, chatting with Hugh. Alice saw her catch
the bouquet reflexively as it sailed toward her. A disappointed shout rose up from
the eager maidens who had been awaiting the lucky flowers. "Oh, no, Mrs. R!"
Maria said, laughing, and lifting the bouquet to toss back to Alice. Even Hugh was
smiling.

Over the racket rose Peter's thunderous voice. "Maria!"

Maria turned pale as she saw him bulldozing his way through the mass of
people toward her. She flung the bunch of roses blindly at the knot of young
women, and moved hastily away. Hugh did not try to follow her, but stood
watching the scramble to catch the bouquet before it hit the ground.

"Siegfried, maybe you should--" Alice began, but he was already gone.

* * *

"But that bastard Hugh--" Peter protested as Siegfried grabbed his arm and
steered him towards the champagne table.

"You must try this vintage," Siegfried interrupted, hastily pouring. He thrust the
glass at Peter. "Doesn't it taste like
Opa
Roye's?"

Peter grunted and drank blindly, his eyes scanning the hall for his wife.
Siegfried did not release him until Peter had finished a second glass. The dull brick
color left the foreman's cheeks and he started responding to Siegfried's banal
chatter. Another glass, and Siegfried felt he could safely leave Peter and trust that
he would not initiate any violence.

The church hall was beginning to clear. It was the harvest, after all, and most
of the guests would have to rise early to work the next day, even though it was
Sunday.

He found Alice again, forced into a corner by Mrs. Breitenbach, who was
gushing, "My dear, you should have asked for a photographer, too! I have a cousin
in Petaluma--Oh, Mr. Rodernwiller, I have been telling your bride that you really
should commemorate this lovely occasion with a photograph. My husband has a
Kodak--"

"Yes, thank you!" Siegfried responded, mostly to get the woman away from
Alice, who appeared ready to fall down. "Alice,
liebchen
, you should
sit."

He fetched a chair in an instant, and helped Alice into it. She settled with a tiny
sigh, and Siegfried knew he should get her home, soon.

He put his hand protectively on her shoulder, then heard the command, "Turn
around! Smile!"

He obeyed, and a flash of light overwhelmed his vision. Instantly, he was
ready for the gun's retort.

But there was only a cloud of acrid white smoke, drifting away from George
Breitenbach's large, complicated-looking camera.

"Thank you," Siegfried managed to say civilly, despite the pounding of his
heart and the sudden cold sweat prickling his temples, "I look forward to seeing
the photograph."

"We'll bring it by," Mr. Breitenbach promised. "Many happy returns of the
day."

"Thank you," Alice murmured, placing her hand over Siegfried's.

"Do you need something to eat?" he asked anxiously, after the Breitenbachs
drifted away like their smoke.

"No. I'm fine," she insisted. "Oh, look. There's Hugh." She pointed to a pillar
towards the entrance of the hall. "He seems so unhappy. We really should--"

"Your wish is my command," Siegfried said gallantly. "I will go talk with him."
He left her, and wove through the remaining guests toward his cousin.

He had not thought much about Hugh since the Fourth of July. It rankled that
he had been so enigmatic then, and that he had never apologized for his
ungentlemanly conduct towards Alice.

"Thank you for coming to our wedding, cousin," Siegfried said, at his most
polite.

"How could I miss it?" Hugh sneered. "You invited half the county."

Siegfried was taken off guard. "Hugh--"

"Come outside with me," Hugh said. "I've wanted to say a few things to you,
and now is the time."

Siegfried looked back. Maria had come to stand next to Alice, and they were
chattering gaily about something. The remaining wedding guests had smiles on
their faces and plates and glasses in their hands full of tasty food, good beer, and
fine champagne. He followed Hugh out of the hall, and they stopped under the
rose-covered trellis that shaded the back patio.

"You think Alice is so wonderful," Hugh began, harshly, shaking his head. "You
have no idea."

"I will not tolerate further insult to my wife," Siegfried warned.

Hugh ignored him. "I told you that you wouldn't like what I had to say. But you'll
listen to me. Her father the wine-broker bought Grandpa's champagne for the
whorehouse her mother managed. The only reason Bill married her was because
O'Reilly paid him for wine that spoiled--and charming Billy couldn't pay him back.
Your sweet demure little Alice is a complete fraud. She's a whor--"

Siegfried's fist found Hugh's filthy mouth, connecting with a satisfying
crack
and knocking him back against a square redwood trellis support. The
climbing rose overhead shivered and white petals dropped softly onto their
shoulders.

Hugh struggled to his feet, his hand cradling his injured jaw. Blood dripped
freely from his lip. "You don't believe me? Just ask Tati." Hugh spat redly onto the
shade-dappled ground. "Montclair should have been
mine
." His voice sliced
through Siegfried with the force of shrapnel. "I was the oldest son! I always knew
Bill would never be able to keep it. But then he died, and
you
came. Well,
you may have married your way into the property, but, by God, you've married a
whore's daughter." Hugh laughed hoarsely. "Congratulations on your marriage,
cousin.
Drink your wine to the dregs."

Siegfried was paralyzed. He knew the flavors of falsehood. He had
commanded enough men in the army to tell when one spoke the truth.

Hugh was not lying.

What he said was so improbable, so terrible, so...consistent. Alice had not
invited her mother to the wedding.
She lives too far away
, she had insisted,
almost panicked, and then she had quickly changed the subject. None of Alice's
other relatives came, either, and Siegfried wondered if his new wife had even
invited them. If there were any.

Siegfried settled for shoving Hugh roughly. "Get out of here. Go home. I never
want to see you again."

"It's mutual," Hugh agreed, rubbing his jaw in a satisfied way that only
aggravated Siegfried more. "I wish you joy on your wedding day."

Hugh walked slowly away, not turning around as Jim Sullivan emerged from
the reception hall. "What happened?"

Ah, God, he hurt, and Hugh hadn't even touched him. And his eyes--
something had gotten into his eyes. He couldn't see. The world swam in a dazzling
blur.

"Hey," Sullivan asked. "Are you all right, Mr. Rodernwiller?"

"Yes," Siegfried whispered. "It was nothing."

He walked unsteadily back toward the wide doors of the hall.

Maria stood there, eyes wide with apprehension, gazing in the direction of
Hugh's departure. "What happened?" she asked in a low voice, as soon as
Siegfried drew near.

"
Nichts,
" he mumbled.

"Something happened!" she persisted. "What?"

"It does not concern you, Maria," he said heavily. "Where is my
grandmother?"

Maria blinked rapidly. "Was it about Peter?"

Siegfried gathered his fragmented attention. "No, Maria. What happened was
not about Peter."

She nodded in relief. "Mrs. Roye's over by the punchbowl."

Tati was talking with Mrs. Duhring, and both of them were chuckling about
something. Siegfried stopped in front of them and bowed, punctiliously. "May I
have a few words with you, Grandmother?"

Tati frowned suspiciously, but disengaged from Mrs. Duhring and followed him
out the back door of the hall to a deserted porch.

"What can I do for you, Siegfried?" Tati asked.

"Give me some answers,
Oma
."

"My dear, you know I'm always happy to oblige you."

Siegfried considered her his mother's mother. She had such a sweet, lined
face, and it did not seem possible that she was a master of manipulation. But he
had known her all his life. "
Oma
, Hugh has just told me the most despicable
things
about Alice. Why would he do that?"

Tati's expression hardened. "I have
never
been able to fathom that
man's mind."

Siegfried took a step closer, well aware that his height was intimidating. "Why
did Alice marry me?"

"Darling, I knew that if I could just get the two of you together, everything
would work out. I have a great deal of affection for Alice, and she needed
someone to help her run Montclair." Tati stopped, her gaze trapped in his. "I
merely encouraged--"

Suddenly, the remaining pieces fell into place. "You blackmailed her to ensure
that she married me. What exactly does she fear?" Siegfried asked implacably. He
did not want to hear Tati's answer, but he had to know the truth about his wife.

Tati blinked at him, then recovered herself. "Siegfried, I am
astonished
at your tone of voice. Oh, I can tell that you are annoyed--"

"
Ich bin wütend.
" He was indeed furious, his rage a flat, steely taste in
the back of his throat.

Involuntarily, Tati stepped back. She forced a laugh. "My dear, you wanted
Montclair. I got it for you. Don't quibble about the methods now. You have exactly
what you wanted." She tugged at her gloves again. "Alice will be a wonderful wife.
She is a perfectly decent girl." But her eyes slid away from his searching
gaze.

Siegfried's heart broke.

Tati was lying to him.

"Then you must have a great deal in common," he snarled. He turned on his
heel and walked away.

* * *

The reception ended at last. Alice received the last beer-scented good wishes
from the departing guests, then let out a sigh. The ordeal was over. She sank
down in a nearby chair as Siegfried approached. "I'm so sorry that Tati didn't want
to stay overnight. I see her so seldom, but she seemed determined to return to the
City."

Siegfried's expression darkened momentarily, then became carefully blank.
"Perhaps the idea of staying with newlyweds made her uncomfortable," he
suggested, without conviction.

"Perhaps. What happened to Hugh? He didn't even say good-bye." Alice
remembered his ill-humored face in church. Maybe it was a good thing that he
hadn't stayed very long.

Siegfried didn't reply, but leapt to his feet and helped steady a tottering tower
of floral decorations in Mrs. Breitenbach's arms as she passed by on her way out
the door.

"What--you two still here?" Gertrude Breitenbach made a shooing motion with
her chin. "It's your wedding night," she said, clucking. "You should be home, taking
off your shoes and having another glass of champagne."