As if life wasn’t hard enough.
My new wife holds her own at the poker table, though. Maybe she’s too much of a gambler, but she’s talented, dangerous. She and I haven’t talked about poker too much since the wedding. I do know she is concerned about money. I’ve heard her talking about not having any money at all, about being broke as Polish jokes, about being hungry as a child and how this can never happen again. She asks me how much money I have saved, if I own a house somewhere. I tell her I have a house in Vermont and that I might take her there sometime. She says she cannot wait for this, that she loves the mountains, so I tell her that we can go up to Vermont after we visit with my sister. She talks about rich American doctors and lawyers and how they think they can play poker. I think she thinks I’m one of these. She says that she can’t believe how lucky she is that she met me. I feel like a million dollars when she says this. I haven’t said anything about being a doctor or lawyer, but I’ve decided that it doesn’t matter. So far she hasn’t paid for anything and I’ve decided this doesn’t matter, either. I’m not sure exactly how our lives will work once we get back to it. I imagine we’ll find a place together. I’ve been living in a hotel and I’m not sure what her situation is, where she lives, what exactly her hustle is. I know she has a hustle, they all do. I think I remember her mentioning a roommate, maybe she’s in on it, too. They could be working girls, high-end. You can’t tell. The very first thing I asked her was if I could take her home, on account of her being upset. This was before buying that first drink at the bar and falling in love. She said, I don’t like this idea. I asked what idea she might like, and she said, A drink with fruit inside it and then another one after that.
So now we are in Piscataway or someplace that looks like Piscataway or how I imagine Piscataway should look. My new wife isn’t impressed. She says things like, Why you bring me to this pit? Why you bring me someplace like Piscataway? I tell her about the park with the trees and brook and the blue jays. I tell her it’s pretty here. I tell her that she should meet my sister, that I think they have a lot in common. I tell her about the tea and cello. I say that family is important. I tell her if things get bad we can always steal the cello and pawn it for good money. I tell her that my sister is an easy mark. My new wife doesn’t react when I say this. She could be holding anything at this point, a high pair or rags.
I decide to tell her some stories about my sister, how she used to be a concert cellist but was injured in a playground mishap. I tell her a little boy tripped her and we don’t know if it was an accident or not. I tell her that my sister had two children but they were taken by the state on account of her being an unfit mother. I tell her about the drug use and the prostitution. Still, I say, she is a good person with a good heart and we shouldn’t judge her. I tell my new wife that she will love my sister and they will grow to be great friends. I tell my new wife that my sister needs this as much as she does. This is when I suggest we pull over, get something to eat, stretch our legs. My new wife wants to check into a hotel so we can watch TV. So far we’ve watched hours of TV every night before going to sleep sometime around 4:00 a.m. The truth is, we haven’t even consummated our marriage yet. Every time I try, she says she is trying to watch something or that she doesn’t like this idea. I explain to her that this is what married people do in this country, and she says, Everything about this is a problem. I want to ask what this means, but I don’t. Instead I go out and get her chips. She likes chips, calls them cheeps, eats them straight from the bag, one at a time.
What no one knows is that it doesn’t take much for me to fall in love and get married. With my new wife, it’s how she pronounces
