My Former Self Read Online Free PDF Page B

option.
    “I know, Sandy. I wish people would just leave me be. I’ll date when I’m ready. It’s really nobody’s business.” I regret it once I say it.
    “Can we head home? I need to shower before dinner,” she asks, and I can tell that she’s hurt. I know she cares about me and just wants me to have someone special in my life, but after the day I had yesterday—and the night before, with Rosanna—I am frustrated. But I let it go. I don’t really want to talk about it anymore, so why bring it up again?
    We get ready for dinner and I pour us each a glass of wine. Once we’re ready we sit down on the couch to figure out where we’ll go. We decide on Vietnamese.There’s a quaint little restaurant within walking distance. There aren’t many people in the restaurant, so grabbing a table isn’t a problem. We settle down, order a half litre of wine, and peruse the menu. The decor in the restaurant is what you’d find in many Asian restaurants here: pictures of Asian women gardening, paper fans on the walls, and fake plastic roses in vases at each table. I wonder if these “flowers” have ever been washed, because I notice dust on the leaves and a splash of some sort of sauce on the petals.
    At the table next to us is a couple with a baby who is only a few months old. The baby is fussing and the parents are doing everything they can to console their child. I have to wonder why on earth they’d come out to dinner on a Saturday night with a newborn. Do they miss their old life so much that they feel the necessity to cling to some semblance of the good old days? In the meantime, everyone around them is annoyed by the crying, and although the waitress says how cute the baby is, it’s obvious that she too is irritated.
    The thought of caring for a baby is so foreign to me. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do to console a newborn. I remember when Sandy first had her baby, she was insulted that I didn’t want to hold Anna more than I did. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my niece; I just had no idea how to hold a baby and it felt unnatural to me. My sister eventually came to understand that it was nothing personal.
    I am nudged back to my table when my sister speaks. “So, have you spoken to Dad lately?”
    “Not since his birthday, you?” I feel guilty when I realize that his birthday was over a month and a half ago.
    “Yeah, I spoke to him a few days ago,” she says. “He’s doing all right. He signed up for two classes at the community centre. One is a computer course, which he definitely needs. I think it’ll be good for him to get out—that is, if he goes. Remember when he signed up for that wine-tasting course and went once and never again? I think it was too soon for him. Now, he seems to be ready to go out and meet new people.”
    “I hope so. I should call him.”
    “Uncle Jack has been really good. He always tries to get Dad out. Have you seen him at all?”
    “No, I haven’t.” I reach for my wine and end up knocking over Sandy’s glass. Her wine spills onto her lap. I leap up.
    “Oh my God! I am so sorry, Sandy.”
    “That’s okay. My napkin absorbed most of it. Luckily, it was white.” The waitress comes up with a cloth to wipe the table. She asks us if we’d like more wine. I say of course, before my sister has a chance to respond.
    We spend the next few hours eating and drinking and talking. We reminisce about the family vacations we went on when we were small and all together. I am not sure if it is the wine or the memories or both, but we end the night with tears in our eyes.

Summer 1989
    I am awakened by the sound of a dog sniffing my things. I look around and remember that I am at Kaitlyn’s. My head is pounding and my mouth feels like a desert. I need some water. The water here tastes disgusting, as Kaitlyn’s mom lives just outside of town and is on a well system. I have no idea what they put in their water, but it’s yellow, it smells, and it doesn’t taste like