In The Garden Of The North American Martyrs by Tobias Wolff

Author:Tobias Wolff
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2011-10-28T01:41:42+00:00

Howard spent most of the dinner talking to Ron. Ron reminded him of a horse. He had a long face and muddy brown eyes and when he laughed his upper lip curled up over his teeth. He worked in his father’s jewelry store in Wilmington. They specialized in synthetic diamonds and Ron was willing to bet that Howard couldn’t tell the difference between their product and the real McCoy. He had Stella take off the tiara she wore, an intricate silver band dense with stones, and handed it to Howard.

“Go on,” he said. “If you can tell the difference you can have it.” He waited, smiling at Nora and Stella.

Howard turned the tiara over a couple of times, then scraped it along the side of a water glass.

“No fair,” Ron said, snatching it away. “I already told you it was synthetic.” He stared at his wife constantly as he talked. Stella had platinum hair going brown at the roots and long black fingernails. She didn’t say much; most of the time she sat with her chin cupped in her hand, gazing around at the other tables and scraping her fingernails back and forth over the linen tablecloth. Ron had met her in the shop. She came in to have some earrings converted and one thing led to another. “She’s an incredible person,” Ron whispered. “You ought to see her with kids.”

After dinner the waiters moved all the tables out of the center of the room and the band started to warm up. Tweed walked out to the middle of the dance floor holding a microphone attached to a long wire. The room fell silent.

“Tonight,” Tweed said, “we have with us what you might call the summer and winter, the Alpha and Omega of human love. Let’s hear it for Ron and Stella Speroni, married three days this very afternoon, and for Mom and Dad Lewis, who celebrated their Golden Anniversary last Wednesday.” Everyone clapped.

“We here on the Friedman have a special place for our senior sailors. To those who are afraid of time I say: what tastes better than old wine or old cheese? And where the art of love is concerned (Tweed paused) we all know that old wood gives off the most heat.” Everyone laughed. Nora sent a smile around the room. Howard cracked his knuckles under the table. Stella grinned at him and he looked away. Then Ron and Nora and Stella all stood together and he stood too and found himself dancing with Stella. He held her awkwardly as the music began, not knowing what to say and not wanting to look down at all the faces looking up at him.

Stella spoke first. “You’ve got strong hands.”

“I used to do a lot of lifting.”

Stella raised his hand and opened it and ran a black fingernail across his palm. “You’re very passionate. Look.” She traced a crease running from his wrist to the base of his forefinger.

“Probably comes from my grandfather. He had fourteen kids. He was still grinding them out in his sixties.

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