Dear Rudy,
Aunt Cath came over tonight, and she took us all out for an expensive dinner. Everyone is being extra nice to us this month. You know why. Mum told us to wear something nice so I wore a dress and Ollie wore a collared shirt and Mum wore high heels. Dad said he didn’t see the point of getting dressed up just to eat, but when he came down the stairs he was wearing a collared shirt too.
Cath seems so much more than ten years older than Mum, doesn’t she. She’s practical I suppose. She still wears her hair short and dresses in shorts and trainers all the time, even at parties and nice dinners. I like that she doesn’t expect us to hug her when she arrives, but I don’t like that she is harsh with her words to Mum. I think Cath is harsh with Mum because Uncle Owen ran off with that woman who worked for him, his secretary or whatever. Mum is soft looking and soft speaking, so she’s an easy target. Still, it was nice of Cath to take us out for dinner.
She told us a few times to order whatever we wanted from the menu, so I decided I would order the bugs. Mum and Dad would never take us to this restaurant down on the waterfront, and if they did they would never let me order bugs. I used to think bugs on the menu meant real bugs, like beetles or grasshoppers. Obviously I know now they are a type of lobster. Dad ordered steak and Mum ordered a prawn salad. I could have guessed that was what they would both get, just by looking at the menu. Oliver wanted chicken nuggets but they didn’t have chicken nuggets so he ordered a kid’s burger. Cath ordered the fish. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but I thought maybe you’d like to know what everyone ate at the special dinner in September. So you can picture us, sitting there in our nice clothes eating the nice food even though we were all struggling to know what to say.
Cath spoke a little bit about you; she said you were strong-willed like your father and caring like your mother. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard her say anything nice about you, or about Mum. She used to say you were reckless and selfish, remember? That time at Christmas a few years ago, when you showed up at her place a little bit late. You’d stayed up until midnight helping Dad assemble Ollie’s new swing set and Mum and Dad had wanted you to enjoy the sleep-in. It was Cath’s first time hosting without her husband so I suppose it was hard. You were perfectly well behaved and used nice manners, but it was not enough. I hated it when Cath yelled at you and when Mum cried. I hated most of all when Dad slammed the bathroom door so hard the mirror fell off the wall and broke. ‘Seven years bad luck,’ Cath said. ‘And $80 for a replacement please.’
At dinner Mum and Dad both said nice things about you, but I wasn’t really listening. My bugs arrived and I ate them even though I didn’t feel hungry. They were cooked in garlic butter and I love that flavour so it was easy to eat them even without an appetite. Oliver was the only one who finished his meal. He said you were the best big brother in the world and everyone nodded. If I ever want to make myself cry I’ll just have to think of Oliver at that big table talking about his best big brother.
I’m going to go now—I’m too sad. I would rather hear a million bad things about how selfish and reckless and awful you are and have you here, than all the nice things people say because they miss you. I didn’t say it at the dinner, but my nice thing about you is that you are kind to everyone, and especially kind to people that other people are not kind to.
You’ve ruined September, Rudy, maybe even bugs too. And bugs are my favourite.
Love, Erin