Without washing the tears off my face, I rushed back down to the street and jumped in a cab. I needn’t have bothered with the erotic lingerie. It came off too quickly for him to notice. Xavier and I drank Champagne and ate moo shu pork naked in bed. I looked at the clock. It was 2 a.m. Thank God. Valentine’s Day was over.

Ron Serrano was certainly not what my father had in mind when he thought about my marrying. I was a conventional middle-class Jewish girl, Ron the brown-skinned son of Mexican immigrants, raised Catholic.

In her traditional white satin wedding gown, Ann Belkov made a stately entrance into the wedding hall. But when she saw her guests, she threw her arms out and cried, “AT LAST!” For, at 75, she was a first-time bride.