here is Xander Berkley performing Vows.

I never caught exactly what was said about us and could only imagine the vicious forms the rumor took as it started at the church and jumped from house to house along the river, somehow making the two-mile leap over Tallman Mountain State Park as it headed to the town of Piermont where the Dickersons lived.

And then from Jenny Dickerson's mouth up the river several blocks, skipping the Morrison house, she was rarely at home, most likely to Sue Carson.

And then from her mouth to Andrew Jensen, the rector at St. Anne's, who I still like to imagine spiced the rumor with some biblical flavor, somehow couching his comments in theological terms, mentioning the fall and temptation and the sins of adultery and so on and so on as he passed it to Gracie Gray.

who tasted all the possible ramifications, twisted it even more to make me into a villainous anti-hero, unaware that both of us, Sharon and I, had betrayed each other, and then held the story in her mouth for several weeks where it sat until I turned from the window at our annual holiday cocktail party to find her looking at me.

in a teal dress tailored square to her shoulders, cut low in a rectangle, framing her pale flesh and her pearls, which swayed as she moved gently to the music.

Gracie winked at me and then turned away coyly, rotating at the waist and letting her legs, I swear I remember this, swing around in an afterthought, as if she were resisting a magnetic pull.

got to that