My host family didn’t complain about my lack of physical activity. They were an older couple who had never had any children and they were quite happ... to have a surrogate son staying with them. They treated me very well. Mrs. Foster was happy to cook and clean for the family every day while Mr. Foster, now retired, sat around reading his newspaper and smoking his pipe. I sat all day long on the sofa devouring novels I had brought over from Europe. We made quite the old-fashioned family in many. The ceremony passed in a blur, and we adjourned to the reception - the wedding feast, as Donna had referred to it throughout the planning, emphatic italics firmly in place, as if the gluttony and excess of the celebration would prepare us for the indulgences that would follow. The two of us ate only a little, and drank still less, reluctant to dull our senses before the big event. It had started when we were discussing her wedding dress, back when the event was nothing more than a few sketchy. More

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