There were times I could not ignore her. When Holly was getting teased, I had to step in, only to run away when things cleared up. This push and pull in the schoolyard made me feel sick. I hated the burden of being the jie jie of the playground, and I knew I was not the jie jie my parents expected me to be.

Holly often gave Bea and me treats to try to win us over. During the Mid-Autumn Festival, she brought us a mooncake, an extremely coveted delicacy. Her parents or a visitor must have made a trip to a larger city with a Chinatown, bringing the burnished cakes stamped with creative designs.

Bea and I came home from school the day of the party excited that Holly revealed there would be egg tarts. Father, however, was not one for parties. “Why such a commotion? You girls should be studying, not gossiping! Let’s just stay home.”

“Ah Loy, don’t forget that Carrie was the first one to come to our home and bring us meals after we arrived,” Mother admonished. “She introduced us to everyone, found beds for the girls and brought them to our door. She’s always there to watch the girls when I need to go to an appointment or run an errand. Ming found your first car for you. It would be an insult not to go.”

Father was unmoved. “I’m happy to send them an ang bao, of course.”

“Ah Loy, it’s not just the gift. We should be among those with good fortune.” Mother glanced at me, and then whispered, “Yes, we lost a son back home, but it should not prevent us from celebrating the good fortune of friends.”

“This has nothing to do with that baby,” Father whispered back.

“Then what is it?”

Father saw me listening and relented. “All right, let’s go,” he said.

Mother ushered us upstairs to change. Bea started to put on the dress I wanted to wear, but I didn’t fight her. I felt like a fake: I was not the oldest child. As a second child, I imagined, my life would have been easier. I wouldn’t have had to be responsible for Bea. My goh goh would have looked after both of us. I could have been like Hilary. What happened to my brother? Why did my parents pretend he didn’t exist? I was afraid to ask.

The Oriental Palace was not just the only Chinese restaurant in town but also one of the largest, making it a popular location for the families of Sparwood to celebrate milestones or simply enjoy Sunday dinner. The restaurant was filled with large round tables with Lazy Susans to allow everyone to share the family-style dishes placed in the centre. And it was always open, even when the town shut down during the Canada Day long weekend or the Christmas holidays. The menu was extensive, offering Chinese Canadian fare, since the majority of the customers in Sparwood were not Chinese, as well as Chinese and Vietnamese food that my parents could find back home, because owner Uncle Joe Ng was both Chinese and Vietnamese. Father loved Uncle Joe’s banh mi. Bea and I always wanted Mother to order the lemon chicken, ginger beef, and fried wontons, but she insisted on ordering the Cantonese dishes she loved and considered authentic that weren’t on the menu, like gong chow ngau ho, bo zai fan, and ai gwa: fat noodles with beef, clay pot rice, and eggplant.