Transitions in Love
Guilt and regret surface over a secret that leaves a family in tatters while a daughter tries desperately to build a nest of her own.
The stiff vinyl hospital chairs clung to their backs with the same absence of comfort as church pews, and as during Mass, Val and Clive Foster sat stiff with their heads bowed, praying forgiveness for what they had done.
At the sharp click of the metallic door lock, Clive opened his eyes but kept his gaze on the floor, hoping to see two sets of shoes stepping into the green-tiled corridor. The door opened slowly, and the hazy blue electric light of the room behind it bled into the snowstorm-white of the hospital hallway, and a pair of brown loafers stepped out. The solitary, unremarkable pair kicked another stone to the bottom of his empty soul.
Then the door opened wider, and two small, rose-petal pink flats joined the brown shoes, took one step into the hall, and stopped. Clive raised his head and gazed upon the pale face of his daughter, who stood, seething with anger at her mother and father.
Despite taking her daughter’s glare like a slap across the face, Val jumped up from the chair and moved with arms outstretched to her only child. “Oh, Meg, sweetheart, I’m…,”
