Shiny, Happy People

Come dinnertime, everyone is perfect. Perfect teeth, perfect suits, perfect hair, perfect lives and perfect children. Photographs flashed as if on cue, more often than not, on cellphones or handhelds. Beautiful, perfect children perfectly capable of filling pa's or ma's perfect shoes.

Which is why it was a relief meeting Jose and Gina, who drove up in a gleaming Merc. Jose has a ponytail and Gina, crutches. Gina starts telling me about her daughter and I mentally start switching off. Then, suddenly my senses jolt into action. Your daughter's an acupuncturist and a belly dancer? Whew! Jose starts telling me about their trip to India and Gina asks me about my family. I tell them I am single in a rather defeated fashion and then Gina endears herself by winking and saying, "Mmmm... You should ask me about the days before I met Jose." Before I can ask, it's time to leave. Jose and Gina say, "Take care, we'll meet again next year and if you're still single, we know this nice Indian boy." Only, there was to be no next year. Gina died and they say Jose sold his practice and is a recluse now. This year, I ask about children, husbands, wives and swap stories about my new house and about that time when I needed to sip cognac at ten in the morning in Finland.