Read Where'd You Go, Bernadette: A Novel for Free Online Page A

the subject, please indulge me while I tell you the story of the first and last time Bee ever claimed she was bored. Bernadette and I were driving Bee and a friend, both preschoolers, to a birthday party. There was traffic. Grace said, “I’m bored.”
    “Yeah,” Bee mimicked, “I’m bored.”
    Bernadette pulled the car over, took off her seat belt, and turned around. “That’s right,” she told the girls. “You’re bored. And I’m going to let you in on a little secret about life. You think it’s boring now? Well,it only gets more boring. The sooner you learn it’s
on you
to make life interesting, the better off you’ll be.”
    “OK,” Bee said quietly. Grace burst into tears and never had a playdate with us again. It was the first and last time Bee ever said she was bored.
    We look forward to meeting you in the fall, when Bee arrives with her fellow third formers.
    Sincerely,
    Elgin Branch
    *
    I am not sick! I was born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome, OK? It’s a congenital condition where the mitral valve, left ventricle, aortic valve, and aorta don’t develop completely and which required me to have three open-heart surgeries plus three more because of complications. The last surgery was when I was five. I know I’m supposed to be so smart, but guess what? I don’t remember any of it! And double-guess what? I’m totally fine now, and have been for
nine and a half years
. Just take a time-out and ponder that. For two-thirds of my life I’ve been totally normal.
    Mom and Dad bring me back to Children’s every year for an echocardiogram and X rays that even the cardiologist rolls her eyes at because I don’t need them. Walking through the halls, Mom is always, like, having a Vietnam flashback. We’ll pass some random piece of art hanging on the wall and she’ll grab onto a chair and say, Oh, God, that Milton Avery poster. Or, gulping a big breath, That ficus tree had origami cranes hanging on it that awful Christmas. And then she’ll close her eyes while everyone just stands there, and Dad hugs her really tight, tears flooding his eyes, too.
    All the doctors and nurses come out of their offices hailing melike the conquering hero, and the whole time I’m thinking, Why? They show me pictures of when I was a baby tucked into the hospital bed wearing a little cap, like I’m supposed to remember it. I don’t even know what the point of any of it is besides I’m totally fine now.
    The only thing now is I’m short and don’t have breasts, which is annoying. Plus my asthma. Lots of doctors said I could have asthma even if I was born with a good heart. It doesn’t keep me from doing anything like dancing or playing the flute. I don’t have the thing where you wheeze. I have the even grosser thing where any time I get sick, even if it’s a stomach virus, it’s followed by two weeks of disgusting phlegm, which I have no choice but to cough up. I’m not saying it’s the most pleasant thing to be sitting across from, but if you care about how it feels to me, I’ll tell you that I barely notice it.
    The nurse at school, Mrs. Webb, is totally ridiculous the way she’s obsessed with my cough. I swear, on the last day of school I want to pretend to drop dead in her office just to freak her out. I seriously think that every day Mrs. Webb leaves Galer Street and it’s a day I didn’t die on her watch, she feels this soaring relief.
    I’m totally off-task. Why did I even start writing all this? Oh, yeah. I’m not sick!

T HURSDAY , D ECEMBER 2
    From: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal
    To: Audrey Griffin
    You have been very dear
not
to ask me how the Microsoft town hall went. I’m sure you’re dying to know if I was a casualty of the epic downsizing that has been all over the papers.
    This was a top-to-bottom RIF, a ten percent haircut. In the old days, a reorg meant a hiring spree. Now it means layoffs. As I might have told you, my project was about to be canceled, and my PM got a little unhinged and flamed