Read Online Odyssey In A Teacup by Paula Houseman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Paula Houseman
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a joke, right? She didn’t flinch, so I guess not. It was, though:
(a) delusional
(b) naïve
(c) tragicomical
(d) all of the above
I’m going for (d). And how did I feel about this?
(e) angry
(f) devastated
(g) worn down
(h) all of the above
(h) had it, but (g) was foremost. Sylvia’s constant carping was wearing me down. She didn’t let up, but I couldn’t yet afford to move out of home. So it felt like there was no choice; I had to end it with Glen. But I wasn’t going to do it over the phone.
We went on one last date and I dropped him when he dropped me off. We were both (f) devastated. And judging by the burn marks he left on the road in front of my house, he was also (e) angry. So was I!
Sylvia was sitting in the lounge waiting for me to come in.
‘HAPPY?’
I yelled it with so much festering rancour she didn’t dare open her mouth. Looks like she actually did understand what a rhetorical question is. Oh, and by the way, I’m not a good girl. Or a nice one. I’m BAD. And I’ve been bad every Saturday night for the last twenty-three months—across the backseat of Glen’s car, on the front passenger seat, on the beach, and in the toilet of his rowing club! Bad, bad, bad! I went to my room, slammed the door and lay awake most of the night, crying.
The next morning, (e) was once again at the forefront. When I emptied out my bag, I found Glen’s wallet. I usually held onto it for him when we went out. This time, though, I’d forgotten to give it back and he’d forgotten to ask for it. Serendipity? Maybe. But definitely a good enough reason to call him. We took up again, secretly.
For three months, Glen and I met on the sly. But when he lost his job and a friend of his from the country offered him a six-month, well-paying stint, he took it. He needed to get away (he wasn’t the only one). We kept in contact by mail (he sent the letters to Maxi’s address), until I got a final letter from him saying that even when he did return, he couldn’t do it anymore. Glen knew he would never win Sylvia’s approval. Who could blame him for ending it. It hurt, though, and for a couple of months I didn’t much feel like going out. But I couldn’t get out of going to Zelda’s wedding.
CHAPTER FIVE:
HER BIG FAT JEWISH WEDDING
Zelda had just turned eighteen. I really did not want to go to her wedding; just being around her was intolerable at the best of times. It didn’t help that I was feeling very raw, that my left shoulder had been aching for days, and that Ralph had refused to come to the ceremony. There wasn’t much love lost between him and Zelda, although he wasn’t going to miss the reception. Anything for a free meal. Ralph and I would have to draw on some heavy, mutual propping up at the reception but for now, here I was in the synagogue minus reinforcement. Myron was in bed with the ‘flu. Lucky him.
Norma, Albie, Louwhiney and my parents were seated on the left side of the synagogue at the front. george and simon, both now married, sat behind them with their respective wives, Stella and Miranda. Zelda’s sisters, Mary and Betty weren’t in the bridal party because their relationship with her was strained. Also both married, they were sitting up front on the right hand side of the synagogue with their husbands and children. The first several rows on both sides were all taken, but Sylvia had reserved a space for me. I felt too anxious, though, to be around the crazy relatives, so I sat near the back where it was empty. There were complimentary red kippot (little cloth skullcaps for the men to cover their heads as is the custom in synagogues) placed on the pews, each kippah spaced a couple of feet apart. They were suddenly swept up by an onslaught of guests filing in and filling up the pews all around me. But ... oh shit!
This was not so much an overwhelmingly large number of people, as a number of overwhelmingly large people! The pews in these rear ranks were now
(a) delusional
(b) naïve
(c) tragicomical
(d) all of the above
I’m going for (d). And how did I feel about this?
(e) angry
(f) devastated
(g) worn down
(h) all of the above
(h) had it, but (g) was foremost. Sylvia’s constant carping was wearing me down. She didn’t let up, but I couldn’t yet afford to move out of home. So it felt like there was no choice; I had to end it with Glen. But I wasn’t going to do it over the phone.
We went on one last date and I dropped him when he dropped me off. We were both (f) devastated. And judging by the burn marks he left on the road in front of my house, he was also (e) angry. So was I!
Sylvia was sitting in the lounge waiting for me to come in.
‘HAPPY?’
I yelled it with so much festering rancour she didn’t dare open her mouth. Looks like she actually did understand what a rhetorical question is. Oh, and by the way, I’m not a good girl. Or a nice one. I’m BAD. And I’ve been bad every Saturday night for the last twenty-three months—across the backseat of Glen’s car, on the front passenger seat, on the beach, and in the toilet of his rowing club! Bad, bad, bad! I went to my room, slammed the door and lay awake most of the night, crying.
The next morning, (e) was once again at the forefront. When I emptied out my bag, I found Glen’s wallet. I usually held onto it for him when we went out. This time, though, I’d forgotten to give it back and he’d forgotten to ask for it. Serendipity? Maybe. But definitely a good enough reason to call him. We took up again, secretly.
For three months, Glen and I met on the sly. But when he lost his job and a friend of his from the country offered him a six-month, well-paying stint, he took it. He needed to get away (he wasn’t the only one). We kept in contact by mail (he sent the letters to Maxi’s address), until I got a final letter from him saying that even when he did return, he couldn’t do it anymore. Glen knew he would never win Sylvia’s approval. Who could blame him for ending it. It hurt, though, and for a couple of months I didn’t much feel like going out. But I couldn’t get out of going to Zelda’s wedding.
CHAPTER FIVE:
HER BIG FAT JEWISH WEDDING
Zelda had just turned eighteen. I really did not want to go to her wedding; just being around her was intolerable at the best of times. It didn’t help that I was feeling very raw, that my left shoulder had been aching for days, and that Ralph had refused to come to the ceremony. There wasn’t much love lost between him and Zelda, although he wasn’t going to miss the reception. Anything for a free meal. Ralph and I would have to draw on some heavy, mutual propping up at the reception but for now, here I was in the synagogue minus reinforcement. Myron was in bed with the ‘flu. Lucky him.
Norma, Albie, Louwhiney and my parents were seated on the left side of the synagogue at the front. george and simon, both now married, sat behind them with their respective wives, Stella and Miranda. Zelda’s sisters, Mary and Betty weren’t in the bridal party because their relationship with her was strained. Also both married, they were sitting up front on the right hand side of the synagogue with their husbands and children. The first several rows on both sides were all taken, but Sylvia had reserved a space for me. I felt too anxious, though, to be around the crazy relatives, so I sat near the back where it was empty. There were complimentary red kippot (little cloth skullcaps for the men to cover their heads as is the custom in synagogues) placed on the pews, each kippah spaced a couple of feet apart. They were suddenly swept up by an onslaught of guests filing in and filling up the pews all around me. But ... oh shit!
This was not so much an overwhelmingly large number of people, as a number of overwhelmingly large people! The pews in these rear ranks were now
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