What else was wrong? Nadya had asked him wearily just this morning, as they got dressed. A wedding that cost a year’s salary, he’d retorted. A DJ who played American music that sounded like a video game. Most of all, a celebration less than forty days after they’d buried his mother. The mass for her soul hadn’t even been said, and here was her grandson, dancing a strange dance with his skinny wife, flapping their arms like terrified birds. His new daughter-in-law who had a white cat she loved so much that it was a guest at the wedding. It sat up on the head table on a white satin pillow,
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