“Where can I? I mean I need help.” A wedding dress wasn’t the sort of thing one could put on or take off by oneself, to say nothing of the corse....“This is your room, now, dear. Use it. And I’ll help if you tell me what to do. Mildred -- Harriet for that matter -- is still dealing with the remains of the reception.”Bridget didn’t have another choice. Her mother had helped her on with the wedding dress, but she wasn’t here. She wouldn’t be here. Bridget couldn’t imagine asking Mrs. Powell for. ‘Well,’ Melissa said, ‘it started a long time ago…’ She began telling Bill the tragic story Ann had told her. ‘Jesus!’ Bill exclaimed when Melissa finished. ‘I see what you mean. And she blames herself because it happened? Can’t she see that it wasn’t her fault?’ Melissa shook her head. ‘I think, maybe, she started to see that she shouldn’t be blaming herself when we were talking,’ she said, ‘But it could be a while before she finally accepts the fact that she really couldn’t have done anything. More

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