Prompt from
Inspiration Monday: All this time I was wrong
(200 – 500 words)


The ‘57 Thunderbird careened around the curve barely missing the guard rail that overlooked the bluff to the ocean below. She was always late, always in a rush. He would be worried. He never got angry at her though. He simply accepted her for who she was.

She missed the turn. She spun the car around and turned down Mallard Lane. She checked her make-up in the rear-view mirror. Not good. Oh, well. No time to fix up now. She slammed on the brakes in the loose gravel behind the chalet, grabbed her overnight bag from the passenger seat, and banged the door shut.

“Hello!”

No answer. She looked back out into the driveway. His car was here.

“Are you here? Hello!”

Still no answer. She looked out onto the lake. He was in the canoe — fishing? What the…? He never fished. He hated fishing. She went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of merlot. He always kept her favorite in the cupboard. He was so thoughtful.

A knock at the door. Who could that be? She didn’t think they were expecting anyone. It was supposed to be an evening of movies and barbequed hotdogs — just the two of them.

An attractive young woman with mocha hair and deep dark eyes looked back at her tentatively. “Hello? Is this David’s place?”

“Yes. May I ask who you are?” A horrifying stab of jealously nearly cracked her heart. Her knees felt weak. She did not want to share her evening. This was their night.

Hesitantly, girl said, “I’m Margreet. I’m here to see David Perkins.”

Lana didn’t know what to do. Should she let her in or stake out her territory and send this woman packing?

“Come in. I’m Lana. David’s on the lake. Glass of wine?” What the hell.

Margreet looked terribly nervous. “Sure. Thanks.”

They were about to settle on the front deck, when a knock announced another visitor. They looked at each other questioningly. Margreet shrugged as if to say beats me.

Another woman; she was a little younger than Lana and Margreet with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Another beauty.

“And you are?” Lana queried.

The girl looked around, bewildered, and said, “Sharon. I… have the wrong place? I’m looking for David Perkins.”

“Come in.” Lana silently uncorked the bottle and poured another glass of merlot. They certainly were young! And beautiful! She could feel the hackles rising.

David finally appeared at the front door, looking skittish. Well, he should. Her fist clenched involuntarily.

“Please. Sit down, ladies.”

They obliged, sitting in the brightly painted Adirondack chairs.

“Ladies, I… um… have something to tell you.”

No one moved a muscle. The confession. Nothing like getting right to it. Pull the band aid off quickly. Son of a…! Lana’s anger flared.

“I’ll come straight to the point.” He looked at each woman in turn before he continued. “For years, I thought I was doing the right thing. I’ve made a lot of mistakes and a lot of poor decisions. All this time I was wrong. I’m sorry.  It’s time you met your sisters.”

***

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12 thoughts on “The confession

    1. Uh… maybe I missed an important element, but I didn’t want to give any thing away until the very end. They’re his daughters! Thanks for pointing out a potential flaw–a point that I saw in my head, but failed (perhaps) to make clear enough in my story.

  1. Dear Caerlynn,

    I enjoyed this story but was left with many questions, Half sisters? Whole? Who is their mother and why don’t they know her? Raised in separate orphanages?

    None of that matters though, Just wondering. From a writer’s point of view the following sentence ‘…..the guard rail that overlooked the bluff to the ocean below’, had me trying to fix it. Of course, it might not be broken but still, I kept returning to it.

    I think I’ll let it be and go outside for two hours and come back to see what else is written here. It’s cold tonight. About 20 degrees Fahrenheit. See you soon.

    Aloha,

    Doug

    1. Funny you mention the guard rail sentence. I revised that three times and still didn’t get it quite right.
      Cold and snowy here this morning after temps of 25+(Celsius) last week 😦

  2. The writing itself is excellent, you build tension with a fine art and it works overall – however I must agree that the nature of the tension isn’t clear. I know you want to keep the surprise, but it could still work if you gave away just the tidbit that Lana is the daughter from the beginning – maybe in the first paragraph, something like “Dad never got angry with her…” This in no way gives away the secret, because a daughter can be jealous of her time with dad, and she could even be reacting to these women by wondering if her dad got a girlfriend without telling her, etc. The reader can certainly wonder along with her why her dad has invited not one but two women to visit. Just a thought. And again, overall well done, your writing has a natural flow to it that keeps one reading.

    1. You’re absolutely right. Sometimes, it pays to put a story aside for a bit and then reread. At the time it was clear in my mind (of course), but obviously didn’t quite sit well with some readers. Thanks for the critique. Much appreciated!

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