The idea was"Parents don't take their own advice." Only written 500 words and my intention was not to write a short for a womens mag but it apears to becoming that? Do you agree?
What if?
“But mum , what if ……”
“For chrisakes Lorraine, stop saying “what if.” It’s getting on my nerves. You know what?”
“What.”
“IF my mother had been my father then I would be my brother.”
Lorraine twiddled with her dark brown hair and said,” That don’t make sense.”
”It does – you think about it.”
There was no doubt that she would not think about it. Being fifteen and an only child of Dave and Fran, she was spoilt, but her parents adored her. This meant that she did not need to dwell on “what if’s” of life or anything else that resulted in her thinking or making a decision. Her parents did that for her.
“How about you finishing your homework?” her mother asked.
Lorraine disentangled her hand from her hair and slowly made her way to the bedroom.
Fran carried on with the washing up and became lost in thought and at the same time took deep breaths to overcome her feeling of frustration. Her mind wandered as she mouthed the words,” what if.”
Her life with Dave and her daughter was good even though Lorraine was now in her difficult stage and like most parents Fran found it difficult to cope with the moods and the undercurrent of anger her daughter expressed. She rinsed the plates and wiped her hands on the tea towel and sat at the table. Looking at her hands she realised it had been some time since she wore nail polish; her thoughts turned to when her hands were smooth and unblemished. That was when she worked in a sports shop and life had no problems and the optimism and dreams of the young.
What if I hadn’t married Dave and married Paul. Where would she be now? Paul was so different to Dave; he had fair hair and grey eyes and was the same height as Fran. He had called into the sports shop where she worked and asked to see some sailing shoes.
This encounter was the first time she experienced the enveloping cloak of a warm glow. She had no way of knowing, but suspected her cheeks and ears were flame red. Quickly she turned and led Paul to the sailing section to have a moment to compose herself.
Fran knew they did not stock a great range of shoes, which was a pity, for she wanted to delay him in the shop for as long as possible. He was softly spoken and self-assured but later when she got to know him she realised he was reserved with a strong undercurrent of confidence. She was now really confused, her unannounced blush and thoughts of keeping him in the shop did not make sense, but later it did.
“We have these, and also these and these……” she stopped herself. This was another sign she was unnerved, the need to talk and talk and gabble on. She bit her tongue.
“These look fine,” he said.
“Yes they are good and we sell a lot of them and er …….” Her voice trailed away, she managed to hold her tongue for a second time.
