Page 89 of Releasing 10
“I beg your pardon,” she feigned outrage. “How about the birth of my first and only son?”
“Mam, come on.” Slumped over the table, I rested my chin on my hand and sighed. “What’s that word that queen over in England used about having the year from hell?”
“Annus horribilis?”
“That’s exactly what this year is for us,” I told her. “1995 is our annus horribilis.”
“You know what, son? I think you might be too clever for your own good,” Mam mused, hanging a plastic skeleton from the ceiling. “I doubt there’s another mother in Ballylaggin whose child quotes Latin.”
I shrugged, too pissed off and sad to appreciate the compliment.
PART 4
Crushing Realizations
THAT’S A BAD TOUCH
Lizzie
AUGUST 31, 1996
“HEY, HUGH,” IASKED ON THE LAST DAY OF OUR SUMMER BREAK, SHATTERING THElong-stretched silence we’d been basking in. Sprawled out on the flat of my back in the treehouse, with my legs resting on Hugh, who was lounging in a beanbag, I tilted my head to one side to look at him. “Have you changed your mind?”
“About what?” he replied, attention riveted to the book he was reading.
“About being a doctor when you grow up?” I filled in, setting down my copy ofFive on a Treasure Island.
“Nope,” he replied, turning over a page. “It’s still the plan.”
“And you want to fix hearts, right?”
“I want to be a cardiologist.”
“And that’s a heart surgeon, right?”
“Yep.”
I pulled up on my elbows to get a better look at him. “Why?”
“Because there’s too many broken hearts around here.”
My eyes widened. “In Ballylaggin?”
He peered over his book at me and smirked. “In the world, Liz.”
“Oh.” I nodded in understanding. “What about my heart?”
He laughed softly. “Your heart works just fine.”
“But what if it breaks?”
“That won’t happen.”
“How come?”
He turned another page before saying, “Because I won’t break it.”
“But what if someone else breaks it?”
