Free A Hole in My Heart by Rie Charles

but you don’t hear.” I swish out the rest of the sink, dry my hands on my apron, then pull it through the handle of the refrigerator.
    â€œRegardless, I don’t want any of you talking that way. We’re family. Be nice to each other.”
    I lean over Dot, my arms outstretched to give her a hug. She rolls her eyes at me. “Faker,” I mumble.
    â€œCareful, you.” She hangs onto my hair as I pull away. Just enough so it hurts, not enough to make me squeal.
    â€œThat’s better.” Dad stands in the kitchen doorway. “Now back to Lizzie. They’re coming down a few days before the operation.”
    â€œCan’t they stay somewhere else? We don’t have the room.”
    Dad scowls at Dot. “Aunt Mary and Uncle Robert will sleep in your room.” I hear a sucked-in sort of gasp from both my sisters. “The boys are remaining behind in Penticton with Granny Frazer. Lizzie can bunk in with Nora on the camping mattress.”
    â€œWhat about Jan and me?” Funny how Janet doesn’t say a word. Because Dorothy says enough for both of them? Or maybe she’s nicer.
    â€œI can’t believe you said that, Dorothy Mackenzie.” Red creeps up Dad’s face. “You’re here two nights out of the week, at most, and you begrudge your aunt and uncle a bed when they have to go through this? You and Jan will sleep on the floor in the rec room.”
    Dot turns her face to the window. “So do we at least have a mattress?”
    â€œNo, I’m thinking you might like stones or pieces of glass to sleep on. And of course no sheets or blankets.”
    I grin. “When are they coming exactly, Dad?”
    â€œIn two and a half weeks. Friday, November fourth, I think it is.”
    â€œFor how long?” I hear Janet bang the plates down in the cupboard.
    â€œThat depends on how it goes. But we’re planning for the best. Robert will go home after the operation, after they see that everything’s fine. Mary’ll stay on at least until Lizzie comes home from hospital. And home means here.” I see Dorothy stiffen again. “Lizzie will stay with us until the doctors say she can return to Penticton. She has to be near a good hospital.” I can almost see the lines of fire streak from Dad’s eyes to Dot. “The success of an operation such as this — I suppose it’s true of any operation but because this is such a tricky one and so new, it is doubly important — depends on having a group of highly skilled doctors and nurses and modern diagnostic aids like cardiography and a blood bank. The post-operative care must be impeccable. It’s just plain lucky we’re here or your aunt and uncle could not have afforded this.”
    I go to my room with feelings falling all over themselves. I should be happy, I know. Happy that Lizzie will be staying here and happy that Lizzie’s heart will be fixed. But there’ll be sickness in the house all over again.
    What if it doesn’t work? What then?
    What if she dies?
    And Mum, you were so pale and weak when you came home from hospital. There was that special bed Dad set up in the living room so you could be with us, not upstairs tucked away from all that was going on. You were so quiet, Mum. It felt like we had to whisper or it hurt you. You told me stories of when I was little. Do you remember? Like how embarrassed you were when Mrs. Boulton gave me new mitts when I was two or three and I wailed, “No fumbs, no fumbs,” because she made baby mitts that are all one piece with no thumb part sticking out. And the time Vicki and I had that screaming contest until Vicki’s mum phoned over and told us to be quiet. You got more of a telling off than we did.
    I feel my stomach contract. It pulls and grabs at my insides. What will happen to Lizzie? She can’t die. There can’t be a death in this house too. There mustn’t be.
Dear Nora,
    Apple pie