'You all remember Sally, don't you?' Grandma asked as introduction. 'He's a famous musician, and he's a girl sometimes.

He's got a whole bunch of pretty dresses and high heel shoes and makeup. He's even got one of them black leather bustier things with pointy ice cream cone breasts. You don't even hardly notice his chest hair when he's got that bustier thing on.'

'Now can he be a girl sometimes?' Mary Alice wanted to know.

Mary Alice is in third grade and is two years younger than her sister, Angie. Mary Alice can ride a bike, play Monopoly if someone helps her read the Chance cards, and can recite the names of all of Santa's reindeer. She's in the dark on gender crossing.

'I just dress up like a girl,' Sally said. 'It's part of my onstage persona.'

'I'd want to dress up like a horse,' Mary Alice said.

Angie looked at Sally's wrist. Why are you wearing an elastic band?'

'I'm trying to quit cussing,' Sally said. 'Every time I cuss I snap the elastic band. It's supposed to make me not want to cuss anymore.'

'You should just say a different word than the cuss word,' Angie said. 'Something that sounds like the cuss word.'

'I've got it!' Grandma said. 'Fudge. That's what you should say.'

'Fudge,' Sally repeated. 'I don't know… I feel silly saving fudge.'

'What's the red stuff all over Aunt Stephanie?' Mary Alice wanted to know.

'Blood,' Grandma said. 'We were in a shoot-out. None of us got hurt, but Stephanie was helping out Eddie Gazarra. He was shot twice, and he had blood spurting all over the place.'

'Eeeuw,' Angie said.

Valerie's live-in boyfriend, Albert Kloughn, was seated next to me. He looked down at my blood-spattered arm and fainted. Crash. Right off his chair.

'He fucking fainted,' Sally said. 'Oh f-f-fudge.' Snap.

I was done with my cake, so I went to the kitchen and tried to clean up. Probably I should have cleaned up before coming to the table but I really needed the cake.

When I got back to the table Albert was sitting in his seat. I'm not squeamish or anything,' he said. 'I just slipped. It was one of those freak accidents.'

Albert Kloughn was about five foot seven, had sandy blond hair showing the beginnings of male pattern baldness, and the chubby face and body of a twelve-year-old. He was a lawyer, of sorts, and he was the father of Valerie's baby. He was a sweet guy, but he felt more like a pet than a future brother-in-law. His office was located next to a laundromat, and he dispensed more quarters than legal advice.

There was a light rap on the front door, the door opened, and

Joe walked in. My mother was immediately running for an extra plate, not sure where she was going to put it. Even with the leaf in, the table could only accommodate eight, and Joe made ten.

'Here,' Kloughn said, jumping to his feet, 'you can have my place. I'm done eating. I don't mind. Honest.'

'Isn't he a cuddle umpkins?' Valerie said.

Grandma hid behind her napkin and made a gagging gesture.

Morelli held his response to a benign smile. My father kept eating.

And it occurred to me that cuddle umpkins fit Kloughn perfectly. How awful is that?

'Now that everyone's here, I have an announcement to make,' Valerie said. 'Albert and I have set a date to get married.'

This was an important announcement because when Valerie was pregnant she was thinking she might hold out for Ranger or Indiana Jones. This was a worrisome situation since it was unlikely either of those guys would be interested in marrying Valerie.

Valerie's opinion of Albert Kloughn improved with the birth of the baby, but until this moment my mother harbored the fear that she'd be saddled with Valerie gossip for the rest of her life. Unwed mothers, horrific painful deaths, and cheating husbands were the favorite topics of the Burg gossipmongers.

That's wonderful!' my mother said, clapping a hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. 'I'm so happy for you.'

'A wedding!' Grandma said. 'I'll need a new dress. And we need a hall for the reception.' She dabbed at her eyes. 'Look at me… I'm all teary.'

Valerie was crying, too. She was laughing and sniffling back sobs.

I'm going to marry my snuggy wuggums,' she said.

Morelli paused, his fork halfway to the roast chicken platter. He slid his eyes to me and leaned close. 'If you ever call me snuggy wuggums in public I'll lock you in the cellar and chain you to the furnace.'

Kloughn was standing at the end of the table with a glass of wine in his hand. I have to make a toast,' he said. 'To the future Mrs. Kloughn!'

My mother went still as stone. She hadn't totally thought through the consequences of Valerie's marriage to Albert. 'Valerie Kloughn,' she said, trying not to show her horror.

'Holy crap,' my father said.

I leaned close to Morelli. 'Now I'm not the only clown in the family,' I whispered.

Morelli raised his glass. To Valerie Kloughn,' he said.

Kloughn drained his glass and refilled it. 'And to me! Because I'm the luckiest man ever. I found my lovey pumpkin, my one true lovey dovey, my big fat sweetie pie.'

'Hey, wait a minute…' Valerie said. 'Big fat sweetie pie?'

Grandma refilled her wineglass, 'Somebody stun-gun him,' she said. 'I can't take no more.'

Kloughn rushed on. His face was flushed, and he'd started to sweat. 'I've even got a baby,' he said. 'I don't know how that happened. Well, I mean, I guess I know how it happened. I think it happened on the couch in there…"

Everyone but Joe sucked in some air. Joe was smiling. 'And to think, I almost missed this,' he whispered to me.

My mother looked like tomorrow she'd be shopping for a new couch. And my father was studying his butter knife… undoubtedly wondering how much damage he could do. Good thing the carving knife was in the kitchen.

'It usually takes Kloughns years to get pregnant,' Albert said.

'Historically we have a low mobility. Our guys can't swim. That's what my father always said. He said, Albert, don't expect to be a father, because Kloughns can't swim. And look at this. My guys could swim! It's not like I was even trying. I just couldn't figure out how to get the thingy on. And then once I got it on, but I think it had a hole in it, because it seemed like it was leaking. Wouldn't it be something if that was the time? Wouldn't it be something if my guys could swim through the thingy? Like I had Superman guys!'

Poor Snuggy Uggums was motoring down the road to doom, gaining momentum, out of control with no idea how to stop.

'Do something,' I said to Joe. 'He's dying.'

Morelli was still wearing his gun. He took it off his hip and pointed it at Kloughn. 'Albert,' he said, very calmly. 'Shut up.'

Thank you,' Kloughn said. And then he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirttail.

'What about dessert?' my father wanted to know. 'Isn't anyone going to serve dessert?'

It was close to nine when Morelli and I staggered through the front door to his town house. Bob-the-Dog came galloping from the kitchen to greet us, attempted a sliding stop on Morelli's polished wood floor, and slammed into Morelli. This was Bob's usual opening act, and Morelli had been braced for the hit. Bob was a big goofy orange-haired beast who ate everything that wasn't nailed down and had more enthusiasm than brains. He shoved past us and bounced out the door, in a rush to tinkle on Morelli's minuscule front yard. This was always Bob's first choice of bathroom, and as a result the grass was scorched brown. Bob returned to the house, Morelli closed and locked the front door, and we stood there for a moment sucking in the silence.

This wasn't one of my better days,' I said to Morelli. 'My car was destroyed, I was involved in a shooting, and I just sat through the dinner from hell.'