“Why don’t you and Hank go up to the lake house for the weekend? You could both use the time away. Away from the jobs, the kids, the..”
“This could very well be our last summer on the lake you know.. We’ve talked about selling, Daddy and me. Nothing definite, mind you, but.. I’m not comfortable with him out on the lake alone anymore, and he says being stuck in a boat with a chattering female is worse than not being on the lake at all- so, maybe it’s time to let it go.”
Of course she knows.
“Oh, we’ve had some good times up there haven’t we? Ya had your first kiss up there. Bet you thought I didn’t know that, didn’t you? That lanky boy, came up with the Sullivans. Wasn’t that the same year you decided you were too fat for a two piece? Fat! My god you were still all knees and elbows!”
She probably knew before I did.
“Those were the days weren’t they? Everything was still so black or white. You met a boy. Fell in love. Got married. Raised a family. If you were lucky, like Daddy and me, you bought a little house on a lake- took your family there summers.”
Of course she knew. Everybody knew. But me.
“Remember the first time you brought Hank up there? Your Dad was beside himself, you know. The two of you sleeping in the same room. He wouldn’t admit it though. ‘I guess we’re meant to use this as a learning curve, Doris.’ Was all he said. But it was his silence. Spoke volumes. Daddy’s silence. Still does.”
Why doesn’t she just cut the bullshit? Confront me? Tell me that she knows.
“Jerome. Or was it Jeremy? The name of that boy you kissed. Or was it him that kissed you?”
This was written for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto Thursday writing prompt. It also incorporates the Lake theme suggested by Susan Braithwaite on Genre Scribes and the three phrasal prompts on tnkerr’s OLWG #44. Those phrases were:
- black or white
- use this