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Eating was such a sensuous delight; in fact, it could be downright comforting, with nothing else to do. Wait a minute, there was the radio. She turned it on, then lay back, popped another chocolate in her mouth, stared up at the ceiling and listened to the soft music play … wasn’t that pretty …
    My dear, sweet Jesus, only you know how I needed a friend that first year of my marriage. Now wouldn’t you expect my own husband would understand the difficulty I had adjustin’ into his new world? He had everythin’, this was the place he’d been born, he had a brand-new bride and a baby on the way. But what about me, I’d left everythin’ behind, all my loved ones, my traditions, the familiarities, the customs I’d known all my life, the place of my birth and my birthright. I missed the long, lovely, hot summers, sittin’ out on the tree-sheltered piazza, just whilin’ away a lazy afternoon with Mama and Rosa Ann, gossipin’ and drinkin’ cold lemonade. How wonderful it was when my relatives would drop in for casual visits on Sundays and stay for supper … the fun we had. Lawd, the food Mama would serve. That marvelous southern food … well, you can’t leave all that behind and not have a few pangs of nostalgia. Goodness, how I missed and adored New Orleans at Mardi Gras … especially at Mardi Gras, with all the excitement of make-believe. It wasn’t easy cuttin’ myself off … everythin’ was so different, so changed. The weather, so damp and cold in San Francisco, it burrowed right into the marrow of my bones, and I thought those damned foghorns would drive me crazy at first. But when I think back to the beginnin’, Dominic never took time out to try and understand how lonely I really was. He used to get … oh, so upset when I’d tell him I didn’t have anyone or anybody to talk to. He’d always give me the same kind of argument over and over. “You could, if you wanted to. There’s nothing wrong with my family, they’d be only too happy to befriend you, but no, you keep your distance with them, I don’t know what the hell’s wrong, I really don’t.” “I’ve told you, Dominic, time and time again, I just don’t feel comfortable with them. We’re simply not the same kind of people.” “Well, what the hell kind of people do you think they are?” “You’re not tryin’ to understand what I’m sayin’, Dominic.” “Alright tell me … what are you saying?” “I’ve told you before … we just don’t have anythin’ in common.” “Now, what the hell is that suppose to mean?” “I mean we’re just from two different worlds.” “Two different worlds? Really, is that a fact? Well, let me tell you something … in the seven months we’ve been married, not once did you make an effort to have my family here and don’t think for one minute they don’t understand.” Then I’d get mad, really mad and ask, “What are they supposed to understand?” “That you have some sort of an inflated opinion about yourself … that you think you’re too good for them.” “Is that what they think?” I’d scream. “Yes,” he’d scream back. But that wasn’t the truth … it was unfair for him to say things like that to me, “Alright, if you must know, I do resent them, wantin’ to hang on to you so tight, to smother you, to keep you tied to them. That’s what I resent.” “Is that so, is it really … well, let me tell you something, my family are fine, simple, down-to-earth people, and if you gave them half a chance, they’d embrace you like one of their own.” “See, there you go … always takin’ sides against me … defendin’ them against me.” I’d cry, as though my little heart would break. “You love them more than you love me … I just want to die … and I don’t have anyone here … no one … not even you.” With that, I’d run into the bedroom and lay down sobbing. Dominic would wait, holding down his temper I suppose, then come to my side, take me in