Free Strange Mammals by Jason Erik Lundberg Page A

don’t I?”
    “Not all the time,” Wade said. “Just most of the time.”
    “Like the time I took you to the natural sciences museum, and knocked over that display of stuffed birds?”
    “Yeah. Like that.”
    “Or the time I was in the stands at your little league game, and spilled beer all over my pants, so it looked like I peed in them?”
    “You know, you really shouldn’t have had beer at a children’s baseball game in the first place.”
    “Or the time I took you to the steakhouse and you told me you were a vegetarian.”
    “I was a vegetarian. Am.”
    “You know, I was kind of hoping you’d go into the family business.”
    “Well, lawyering is all right for Mom, but it’s not really my—”
    “No, no, I wasn’t talking about Mom.”
    “Oh, not this again.”
    “Come on! You’d get to see the world. Experience history for yourself, feel like you have purpose to your life.”
    “Dad, would you cut that shit out? I’m not seven anymore. It’s just a story. A dumb story.”
    Wade’s dad looked into his beer. Wade had never seen him look so old, so worn down, as if he’d already lived several lifetimes, his hair a shocking white, the crow’s feet and laugh lines etched into skin by chisel and time.
    “Fine,” his dad said. “Let’s just drop it. Happy birthday, kiddo.”
    They finished the pitcher, and then went their separate ways, Wade to his dorm room by campus bus, and his dad by cab to a roach-infested apartment downtown.
    ~
    It was Wade’s wedding day. He was marrying a pretty Chinese girl named Xiaxue. His mother had planned the event to perfection, driving him a bit crazy with it all actually, and his fiancée too, with the flowers and the catering and the venue and the band and the minister and the dress and the cake and all the minutiae. Wade and his fiancée wanted a small affair, but it ballooned from thirty people, to sixty, to a hundred fifty, to two hundred, and Wade didn’t even care anymore, he just wanted it all over with so he could start a life with his new bride. His mother, wanting to include Xiaxue’s family in the celebration, since they were flying all the way from Hong Kong, had decorated the Wegener House with Chinese lanterns of red and gold, some labeled “love,” some “happiness,” some “prosperity,” and the flowers were all different vibrant colors, no white because white was a bad luck color, and they were serving green tea and egg rolls alongside the numerous other heavy hors d’oeuvres . Xiaxue’s family seemed pleased with the references to their culture.
    The ceremony over, and Wade didn’t trip over his shoes at all, and said all the right things in all the right places, and smiled a big smile after kissing his new bride on the lips, even slipping her a little tongue, and they walked back into the house from the courtyard and prepared to meet and greet the two hundred guests. Dozens of “It’s so good to see you,” “Thank you for coming,” “I’m glad you enjoyed the ceremony,” “Yes, we got the fondue pot you sent,” “I’m sorry, I don’t know where the bathroom is” and “The food is right through there.” There was hardly time to eat because everyone wanted to talk to him, or give him advice, or ask where they were going on the honeymoon (Greece). Relatives, friends, or strangers continually put drinks in his hand, and the quantity of alcohol and lack of food were producing vertigo, a spinning room, a loss of equilibrium. And so Wade didn’t notice his father approach the table and start talking to his new wife.
    “So you own a clinic?”
    “Yes,” she said, “Wade and I are going to run it together.”
    “You two met in veterinary school.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Pets?”
    “Mostly pets. Dogs, cats, hamsters. The occasional turtle or rabbit. We have an iguana in a terrarium in the waiting area who likes to sun himself all day under the heat lamp.”
    “You’re from Hong Kong?”
    “Yes,” she