Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Walking on Egg Shells

A disturbed woman lies to her adult daughter about her relationship to the daughter's father. Read the rest on
Walking on Egg Shells  

Alicia Morovia couldn't take in whom she was speaking to when she received the telephone call.
The man said his name again, "Jack Halling." He added, "I'm your father. I hope you don't mind that I phoned?"
"No, no."
"I wonder if you'd like to meet me and…my wife. And Christine."
"My …daughter. Actually that's why we're in Melbourne. Christine's husband has been transferred here."
Alicia had a feeling he almost said eldest daughter. She was his eldest daughter though she hadn't seen him since she was two.
“We could have lunch…or a coffee…” Jack Halling’s voice trailed off.
“Lunch sounds fine.” Alicia mentioned a place in the city where she’d be sure not to meet any of her friends.
She put down the telephone and glanced at the clock. Half-past-three. The children would soon be home from school.
She ran her fingers through her hair, stressed after the call. She didn't know what her father looked like. She'd never seen a photo of him. Her mother would have destroyed them.
Her father said he had a wife and daughter.
Her mother had never said they were divorced. She still spoke of him, even now, thirty-five years later, as if they were still married. She'd fled with two-year Alicia to the other side of the country to get away from his beatings and drunken rages.
Alicia had lived with the horror tales all her life. The stories became worse as her mother's anger grew and her eyes glittered with hate as she spat the name: Jack Halling. Sometimes Alicia felt she'd scream if her mother didn't stop.
The door banged. Ten-year-old Tommy came in. Dropping his bag on the floor, he headed straight for the kitchen and spread a slice of bread thickly with butter and peanut paste, emerging with half the slice stuffed in his mouth.
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