“She, uh, she has boobs, Vic,” I stammered. “Yeah, no, she has like B cups, those are breasts. I have double D’s, now those are real yiddies!�...� Vic laughed. I couldn’t believe how open she was being. Did she just randomly tell me her bra size? Was she bragging about her boobs? What a strange girl. “B’s are fine and so are smaller breasts,” I argued. Why was I still arguing? There was no point. “Yeah, they’re big enough if you’re an ass man, exactly my point,” Vic beamed as if she was right. “You. Even though I might have Dad back I would never haveMum. When Beth recovered, it would still be just three of us.I began to recount some of the holidays that I remembered. The first Irecounted was the holiday we had at Oban in Scotland where it rained allweek. Next came the summer mountain holiday in Switzerland where Dad gotterribly burnt legsI felt her hand twitch a bit. She didn't open her eyes or say anythingbut I'd got some response so I continued recounting the happy times. Theholidays. More

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