‘What’s wrong with her?’
My elderly aunt, visiting with her family from the US, asks me this in a very small voice. She, like the others around the lunch table – my uncle, my two middle-aged cousins, and me – is sitting in big-eyed stupefaction.
My 30-something daughter, Beth, has just leapt up to answer a call on her cellphone, and has left the table, screeching with laughter at something the caller has said, and turning heads throughout the restaurant. Prior to this, she had kept us – and, involuntarily, many people seated at tables near us – in rabbit-in-the-headlights appalled fascination with a convoluted story, replete with expletives, about an intimate issue a woman in her close friendship group was grappling with. It wasn’t just the inappropriateness of the…