Monday, July 15, 2002

Her Turn

Now Eileen gives English lessons to a young couple from Mexico. They both come for the lessons, but only he seems to be improving his English and that only marginally. He’s taking the class to please the wife and keep her occupied. For every fourth or fifth question, she says, “Your turn,” to him, but she pronounces it, joor toorn, with what sounds like a French inflection. Otherwise, she blurts out answers as if oblivious to his presence. They are an attractive couple and would be more so if she would let him get a word in edgewise.
Eileen wonders if the husband, who introduced himself as Paco, but whom his wife insists on calling Francisco Javier, was so quiet before they moved to New York. She is fairly sure she knows whose idea the move was.
The oversized tennis racket-shaped brooch studded with what appears to be diamond chips that the wife frequently wears was instrumental in Eileen's decision to move to Mexico. She has told them she is about to go, any day now.
The wife tells her she "is being, how do you say, improbable?"