The Secret Life of a Funny Girl by Susan Chalker Browne

Author:Susan Chalker Browne
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Flanker Press
Published: 2012-10-11T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

IT’S SCARY ISN’T IT, how fast things can happen? Gran dead, Mom sick and out at the Mental Hospital. Who could have dreamed on that stormy Saturday morning in February—when Gran made bread at our house for the last time—that life would change so quickly? Probably it’s just as well you don’t know what’s coming. You’d be so upset just thinking about it, you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else.

The sky is grey and cloudy on a Thursday after school, as Beth-Ann and I walk down Poplar Avenue toward Aunt Kay’s house. The air is mild. No need for mitts and boots anymore; spring has finally arrived in St. John’s. The branches on the trees are still bony and bare, but if you look closely you can see fat buds everywhere, ready to burst in a few weeks. I always love the month of May.

But this May is different. Mom still at the Mental Hospital, Dad so broody, and no word from anyone on when all this will end. Not even Aunt Kay can tell me anything. I think the worst part is not having anyone to talk to—no one who’s interested in my life. I mean, Aunt Kay is sweet and always tries so hard, but she has no daughters and Billy and Bobby come first with her, which is how it should be, I’m not arguing with that. Dad is, well, Dad. He doesn’t understand anything. He hardly thinks about me, just so long as I get all the chores done around the house. And obviously I can’t talk to Beth-Ann about anything important.

See, here’s the thing—Debbie and I are the only two girls in class invited to the St. Matthew’s spring dance. Quite a distinction, don’t you think? If Mom were home, we’d be talking about a new dress and shoes and what way I’d do my hair. If Gran were alive, she’d be asking all about John and his family, and then figuring out that she knows his grandmother from bingo or something like that. I grin despite myself, just thinking about what she would say. But then my smile fades, because as it stands now, I have nothing to wear to the dance and no one seems to know that, much less care. I bet Mom doesn’t even realize I’ve actually been invited, because it probably wouldn’t occur to Dad to tell her.

At least at school everyone seems to think it’s a big deal. The girls are always asking if I like John (hardly know him), what I’m going to wear (no idea), are we going anywhere afterwards (highly doubt it), and on and on and on. This is brand new territory for me, some boy asking me out and everyone knowing it too. I like the attention—well, you know how I am about that. Just this recess time, for example, Bernadette was saying how lucky I was and that John Ryan was “gorgeous.” I smile remembering this, because I don’t really think he’s that gorgeous at all.

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