Hangover

Rose woke up first. She looked at Ben sleeping and kissed him. It would be another year till the uproar started again. She was glad it was over. She was dying of thirst, the result of too much beer. She put on a bed jacket over a flannel nightgown and drank a glass of water, too tired to shower. She felt so depressed. She couldn’t handle beer anymore. She looked in the mirror, studying the wrinkles between her eyebrows and at the sides of her eyes. Crow’s feet. Crows were really ravens. Her hair hung witchily down her shoulders. She was brushing her hair when Ben came up behind her and said, I invited Avdo to spend Christmas with us. Well, he worked so hard in the play.

What?

He has no one in town.

But I thought it was going to be just Juliette and Bert and us.

What’s one more?

It will be weird. It’ll be Thanksgiving all over again, people who don’t belong together.

Juliette and Bert will like him.

Oh, God. It’s just like the days when you were a diplomat. It’s like living abroad again. Never a moment to ourselves, Ben. Not even on Christmas.

She threw a sponge at him.

Hey!

I had Megan for a month, then I had your whole cast and God knows who else last night, and I had to comfort a woman crying outside our bedroom.

Well, I can’t disinvite him.

She left the room. How could she love a man who irritated her so much? In the living room Avdo stood up anxiously to greet her, but she couldn’t bear to see him, either. He had slept drunkenly on the couch. She had assumed he would go home in the morning. Was he going to be living here until Christmas? That was three days away. She rushed into the kitchen and put on the coffee.

Coffee. Coffee would save her. She loaded the beans into her special coffeemaker and it ground and brewed them. Coffee dripped into the coffeepot. She did not have to leave the house to have coffee the way she had when she was young. As a student she had drunk instant coffee in her rented room. Did anyone still drink instant coffee?

When the coffee was done, she held the warm cup in her hands. When Avdo came in she gave him a cup of coffee and shooed him out.

I have to drink coffee before i can talk in the morning, she said.

He looked worried. She didn’t smile.

Outside the window she saw seagulls wheeling over the river. Urban seagulls in December. What were they doing here? Why didn’t they fly away? The river was so cold even in the sun this time of year. She had once had to rescue Binkie from the river when he got carried away and ran in. Ice was on the water. She had no idea what had possessed Binkie.

Binkie came in from the back yard and rubbed up against her.

Binkie, she said. Tears flowed.

She couldn’t believe she was crying. She never cried.

You’re brave, the nurses had said when they stuck her with needles. She had been ill, very ill, with what the doctors couldn’t figure out. She had wheeled her IV around the hospital, arms black and blue, till she completely broke down. Then she refused anaesthesia during the surgery.

The stoic thing was a gene, no doubt. Someone would borrow her DNA for that. She had heard a horrible story on NPR about genetic selection. The return of the Nazis right here in the U.S.

And that’s why she had to be kind to the Bosnian banker refugee. Otherwise she would be like a Nazi, she supposed. She didn’t want to be a Nazi. She wanted to accept difference and be kind. She didn’t want to spend Christmas with strangers, but she would have to do it. She had planned an easy dinner of a ham from Harry and David and fruitcake for dessert. She had made the fruitcake weeks ago. Her guests would sit around after dinner and eat fruitcake and watch a movie on DVD or listen to Ben’s music.

Now there would be a fifth wheel. He didn’t speak English well. They would have to ask him questions about his life in the U.S. (no one would dare bring up Bosnia). He was a person who had to pretend he had no history.

If only she could invite Dorrie...Avdo knew Dorrie. Dorrie would make him comfortable. But then Ben would have a fit.

Ben came into the kitchen. Are you all right?

Yes. She smiled sleepily. Just hung over.

it is Christmas. We’re supposed to open our house to others.

Sure. It’s all right.

We’re Catholics.

“Are there no workhouses?” She started to laugh.

Shut up. He pretended to shove her.

Okay. We’ll have a good time.