My sister is getting married. My family is the last to arrive; it almost feels like our arrival is an afterthought. She is walking down the aisle and we are baulking at taking our seats so she has to break character and bark at us, sit down! I sit in a pew next to my cousin whom I feel an infinite affinity with. My dad rushes out into a field and climbs a tree to fetch an apple. Then he starts gasping and falling off a limb. My sister runs over to him wearing blue jeans which shocks me. Someone accessing the main breaker is warned: Watch out – it’s live!
I am a tourist in a big city. I assume its Manhattan since that’s my sole association with a big city. My husband and I are estranged, then we come together. He lets me put my weight on him. We are walking in a mode in which I don’t touch the ground, heavenly! I ask him if it’s okay, him bearing my weight like this, and he says yes. It feels like a return to childhood. Then, a bit later, there is a baby. Perfect and new. It isn’t my baby, but it’s close enough to feel like mine. My mother-in-law is there. She asks, what’s going on? by which I know she’s asking about our marital status but I talk about the baby, how fun it is to walk around the city with a baby. I know I’ve sidestepped her question but I can’t help it. The baby is everyone’s focus naturally.