Crowding Out

She wakes up. Another day, a Tuesday this time. It’s the same story as every other day. She showers, does her makeup, puts on her corduroy dress, and pours her husband a glass of champagne. It is an odd morning beverage to enjoy but she knows it makes Lajos feel a certain way. Two wars, a freedom fight, and years of money troubles behind him, champagne is his victory lap. His medal of honor. A sign that all the sleepless nights paid off. She places the kolbász and bread on the corner kitchen table. For her, coffee will do.

 “I talked to Gábor yesterday,” she notes while munching on a bread end. “He is healthy, so is our baby grandchild. I can’t believe she is almost three years old.”

                      “   “

Do you think she’ll learn Hungarian?”

 “   “

 “Gábor says he speaks English with her most of the time. He wants to prepare her for kindergarten.”

 “   “

 “I hope the other kids in LA are not as stuck up as they seem on television. Do you think she’ll come visit Budapest?”

 “   “

 “I suppose tickets are quite expensive, aren’t they?”   

 “   “

“They’ll surely come visit someday.” 

 She finishes her coffee and looks out the window. Grey. It’s 7 o’clock. Time to go to the cemetery. It’s All Saints Day after all and any proper Hungarian would bring her loved ones flowers and candles on this day. She washes up and puts on her clogs. The glass of champagne is untouched. It joins the ten other filled glasses on the table. Soon, there won’t be any space left to put down her coffee.