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Authors: Jessica Fletcher
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tables,” Marshall sang out. “Bon appetit!”
The adage that time passes when you’re having fun certainly applied to this particular evening and party, and I couldn’t believe how quickly the night slipped by. Before I knew it, waiters and waitresses were bringing in trays of magnificent desserts specially baked for the party by one of Boston’s top bakeries, many of the sweets decorated with imaginative Halloween figures, tiny marzipan witches and pumpkins and white chocolate ghosts and other symbols identified with the day.
By midnight, most of the guests, filled with food and conviviality, had said good night to their host and gotten into cars delivered to the front portico by parking attendants hired for the occasion. Before the guests left, however, the women were each presented with a small sterling silver paperweight in the shape of a pumpkin, the men a silver tie clasp formed to resemble a broomstick, momentos of a memorable evening.
“Shall we, Jessica?” Seth asked me a half hour later.
We’d lingered to chat with the Metzgers and the Lerners.
“I’m ready,” I said. “I can’t wait to shed The Legend and get back to being just Jessica.”
“Me, too,” Maureen said. “It was fun being Cher for a night, but I wouldn’t want to have to dress up like this every day.”
“Well, you can come as you normally are to our party,” Joan said with a smile, “providing you wear something slightly military.”
As we started for the door, Paul Marshall approached. “Not leaving so soon, are you?” he said.
“So soon?” Seth said. “Long past my bedtime.”
“Oh, stay a few minutes longer,” Paul said. “I’ve asked a special few to join me for a night-cap. You’ll hurt my feelings if you go.”
As much as I wanted to leave, it would have been impolite, I felt, to decline his invitation. Paul told a waiter to deliver a tray of brandy to the living room, and Seth and I, along with the Metzgers and Lerners, followed him there, where a small group, many in moose costumes, mingled. The patio doors were open, and guests wandered in and out. A skeleton staff—literally since that’s how they were costumed—had begun to gather the dishes and glassware and other remains of the party, and to bring back the furniture that had been removed to make room for the dance floor. Marshall grabbed one of the moose. “Have you seen Erica?”
The moose shook his head, and Paul sent him—I think it was a him—to turn off the sound effects, which were still groaning and rattling in the background.
“Please excuse me. I won’t be but a moment,” our host said. “A little business to take care of.” He strode from the room.
As the Metzgers and the Lerners went to join the Deckers on the patio, Seth looked at me and shrugged. “Might as well sit down,” he said. “Bein’ on my feet for so long’s got me all tuckered out.” He moved toward a wing chair, one of a pair flanking a marble fireplace, and sank into its soft cushion with a grateful sigh. I took the chair opposite and watched as one of the skeletons made the rounds of the room, delivering drink orders.
Marshall rejoined us several minutes later and pulled up a chair. His voice was hearty, the success of the party obviously buoying his spirits.
“You know, I never get a chance to really talk with my guests,” he said. “There are so many things that pull me away during the evening.”
“It was a wonderful Halloween party, Paul—as usual,” I said as the waiter appeared with brandy in snifters. “Thank you for inviting us.”
“Thank you for coming. Wouldn’t be as much fun without you. By the way, you look terrific as The Legend. Are you sure I didn’t just see you haunting the cemetery?”
“This is the night she’s supposed to appear,” Seth put in, “but I can vouch for Jessica’s presence all evening.”
Paul started to say something, but changed his mind and said instead, “Yes, tonight was fun. I just wish Tony
The adage that time passes when you’re having fun certainly applied to this particular evening and party, and I couldn’t believe how quickly the night slipped by. Before I knew it, waiters and waitresses were bringing in trays of magnificent desserts specially baked for the party by one of Boston’s top bakeries, many of the sweets decorated with imaginative Halloween figures, tiny marzipan witches and pumpkins and white chocolate ghosts and other symbols identified with the day.
By midnight, most of the guests, filled with food and conviviality, had said good night to their host and gotten into cars delivered to the front portico by parking attendants hired for the occasion. Before the guests left, however, the women were each presented with a small sterling silver paperweight in the shape of a pumpkin, the men a silver tie clasp formed to resemble a broomstick, momentos of a memorable evening.
“Shall we, Jessica?” Seth asked me a half hour later.
We’d lingered to chat with the Metzgers and the Lerners.
“I’m ready,” I said. “I can’t wait to shed The Legend and get back to being just Jessica.”
“Me, too,” Maureen said. “It was fun being Cher for a night, but I wouldn’t want to have to dress up like this every day.”
“Well, you can come as you normally are to our party,” Joan said with a smile, “providing you wear something slightly military.”
As we started for the door, Paul Marshall approached. “Not leaving so soon, are you?” he said.
“So soon?” Seth said. “Long past my bedtime.”
“Oh, stay a few minutes longer,” Paul said. “I’ve asked a special few to join me for a night-cap. You’ll hurt my feelings if you go.”
As much as I wanted to leave, it would have been impolite, I felt, to decline his invitation. Paul told a waiter to deliver a tray of brandy to the living room, and Seth and I, along with the Metzgers and Lerners, followed him there, where a small group, many in moose costumes, mingled. The patio doors were open, and guests wandered in and out. A skeleton staff—literally since that’s how they were costumed—had begun to gather the dishes and glassware and other remains of the party, and to bring back the furniture that had been removed to make room for the dance floor. Marshall grabbed one of the moose. “Have you seen Erica?”
The moose shook his head, and Paul sent him—I think it was a him—to turn off the sound effects, which were still groaning and rattling in the background.
“Please excuse me. I won’t be but a moment,” our host said. “A little business to take care of.” He strode from the room.
As the Metzgers and the Lerners went to join the Deckers on the patio, Seth looked at me and shrugged. “Might as well sit down,” he said. “Bein’ on my feet for so long’s got me all tuckered out.” He moved toward a wing chair, one of a pair flanking a marble fireplace, and sank into its soft cushion with a grateful sigh. I took the chair opposite and watched as one of the skeletons made the rounds of the room, delivering drink orders.
Marshall rejoined us several minutes later and pulled up a chair. His voice was hearty, the success of the party obviously buoying his spirits.
“You know, I never get a chance to really talk with my guests,” he said. “There are so many things that pull me away during the evening.”
“It was a wonderful Halloween party, Paul—as usual,” I said as the waiter appeared with brandy in snifters. “Thank you for inviting us.”
“Thank you for coming. Wouldn’t be as much fun without you. By the way, you look terrific as The Legend. Are you sure I didn’t just see you haunting the cemetery?”
“This is the night she’s supposed to appear,” Seth put in, “but I can vouch for Jessica’s presence all evening.”
Paul started to say something, but changed his mind and said instead, “Yes, tonight was fun. I just wish Tony
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