Weddings and Gambling

By Patricia

Well, here I am, trying to sleep on the couch on my last night at home. Doesn't seem fair that Id be stuck on a couch when I should be saying goodbye to my very own bed. A bed that has cradled me since I was ten years old. Now, with all the company in the house, the sofa is the only place remaining and the only cover left for me is the afghan Grandma made many years ago. Because I am tall, when I pull the afghan up under my chin my unpolished little toes stick out. So I cover my bare feet and just opt for cold shoulders. I probably won't sleep anyway. After all, it's the big crapshoot tomorrow. I wish I meant that I was going to go casino gambling in Vegas but, alas, it's in the church down the street. A wedding.

Marriage. Isn't that the biggest gamble of all? Sprawled on the couch I rethink what I am doing and wonder if there is any way out of it. Is this what they call getting cold feet? Maybe Grandmas short afghan wasn't the reason my feet were uncomfortable! Lets see, I have known my groom for three years. We only broke up once and otherwise seem to have a peaceful relationship. It's not like the couples we know at college who were either screaming at each other or screwing their brains out. We are comfortable. Like old shoes. But I am only twenty-one years old. Soon to be 22. I have never even had control over my own grown-up pay check. I don't start my first official post-college job until two weeks after this wedding. And then there's the move. By tomorrow at this time I will be living in another town 3 hours away; with a man. And his parents are just down the street. A new job. A new town. A new husband. In-laws. A crapshoot. This is worse than gambling I think. Pondering all of this has made me a little teary eyed. Padding into the bathroom for a tissue I realize that crying will make my face puffy for the wedding. Crying cannot be an option now. There has been too much money spent on the photographer for me to mess up the pictures with bloodshot eyes.

Hmmmmperhaps a drink will help. Though mom and dad do not allow alcohol in the house, earlier I noticed that Uncle Floyd stashed some tiny airline bottles of vodka in the refrigerator. Those tiny bottles ought to do it, I decide. After 30 minutes or so I realize that I no longer have cold feet or cold shoulders for that matter. Grandma's afghan was wrapped around my waist as I danced in the middle of the living room to imaginary music. Ahhh what a graceful bride I will be. It's not long before those little vodkas wear off and I'm back where I started from: The sofa. Short afghan. Wedding. Added to that, a sore ankle from twirling in the middle of the living room with a coverlet wrapped around my waist. Lets get back to the issue at hand. I need to sleep so I will be radiant tomorrow! Good thing God invented make-up.

But what about the gamble I was about to take? Just to get married, I had passed up a job in sunny Florida to stay in Po-dunk, Ohio. Closing my eyes I try to focus on the good times we had together as a couple. How we would meet at a local bar every Friday to celebrate the end of the school week. How there was a fluffy white snow that greeted us as we excited the movies on our first date. How safe I felt when I walked with him. Sleep arrives.

In the short time I sleep I dream of being in a big glitzy room with lots of people roaming around. Some are sitting at tables playing blackjack. Some are stationed at slot machines. I am shaking dice in my hands at the craps table. People are surrounding me and watching as I release the dice. They all gasp in horror as the dice settle on the table. I wake up. What did I roll? Ill never know. But I decide that anything in life is a gamble. If you don't take a chance you don't live. So sometimes in this new marriage I may say, Oh,CRAP!. Sometimes I may say, Oh, SHOOT! But hopefully I will feel like I got a 7 or 11 on the first roll! Then Ill shout, I WIN!