Read Online A Hole in My Heart by Rie Charles - Free Book Online Page A

hanging around with this lot.
    â€¢ • •
Penticton
    October 7, 1959
    Dear Nora,
    It was great to have a visit, even though it was short. I wish Mum didn’t have to get back here so fast. Surely Dad and Gran could have looked after the boys longer. But Mum said she still has lots of canning and pickling to do and work for the church for Thanksgiving.
    I wish you’d write more. We didn’t even get properly caught up because I was in the hospital. I’d like to hear about the Quinns and maybe when I’m down next time I could meet them.
    Mum and I talked a lot on the bus going back. She said you remind her of Aunt Rita when they were little. I wonder if I look like Mum when she was little. I thought of asking Dad, but he didn’t know her then. The only people I can ask are Aunt Alice and Auntie Beth. But we never see Aunt Alice anymore now they’ve moved to Montreal. And I don’t remember having met Auntie Beth. Has she ever visited from California? Oh, I just thought, Your dad would know . He grew up with them, didn’t he? But then I could ask her, too, and maybe she has some pictures. I’m going on and on.
    Do you ever wonder about being our parents’ age? You know, I’ve never thought about growing up or being grown up. Purposefully. But now, because of the operation, I do. I wonder, will you and I still be as good of friends when we’re big? Maybe we’ll have daughters like us. That would be nice. What would you call your daughter? I like the name Mona and also Margaret. If she was Margaret, though, I’d call her Peggy.
    Did you finish Anne of the Island ?
    Mum says I’m supposed to be resting, not writing. But writing at my desk is not much different from lying in bed reading.
    I’m glad we came down. You say no one at your house talks about Aunt Rita. It’s sort of the same here but different — no one here talks about my operation. But with the doctor in Vancouver I got to ask questions. Plus, I heard some of the questions Mum had. It feels more real. And more scary. I forgot to tell you that there’s going to be another girl being operated on the same day. Her name is Ingrid. That’s all they said. I didn’t meet her.
    I don’t look forward to the operation but I do look forward to seeing you. And to staying at your place for the weeks after. It sounds like it may even be until Christmas. Hopefully we can do some Christmas shopping together.
    Your cousin and best friend (I hope),
    Lizzie

10

    Thursday I have a run-in with Dad.
    â€œWhere’re the pictures of Mum we used to have on the piano?”
    â€œI put them away.” Dad snaps and cracks the newspaper as he reads.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause that’s where they belong,” he says from behind the paper.
    â€œI don’t see why. I don’t want to forget Mum.” That’s been bothering me for a while. “If I don’t see her picture, maybe I will.” Dad flicks the newspaper out straight again. It’s his only comment. “There ought to be a union for kids. Someplace where we can take our complaints when parents don’t listen.” This gets his attention. The newspaper crackles down on his lap.
    â€œI’m tired of your bad attitude, young lady. Go to your room and do your homework.”
    What bugs me is that he never used to be cross. We actually did things together. Now we never play cards or crokinole or checkers. I’m not particularly fond of crokinole because it hurts my fingers when I flick the tile, so I don’t miss that. But weekends we used to play hearts and crib. If just Mum and Dad and I were there, we’d use Grandad’s round cribbage board instead of the normal two-person board so that three could count easily. Now, nothing.
    What do I do? Go on strike?
    Go back to Penticton?
    And besides, last Sunday was Thanksgiving. Jan and I cooked chicken with vegetables and made pumpkin pie