Ungrateful

Today’s A to Z Blogging Challenge is U for a short story I’ve written, titled Ungrateful.

Olivia and Caroline sought
out their usual table, nestled in the dimly lit corner of the cafe. Their monthly catch up was a long standing tradition for them. One that saw them
through their awkward teens, anguished twenties and tempestuous thirties.

Sipping their coffee,
Caroline observed her best friend. She seemed tense. “You’re looking well,
Olivia. What’s new with you?”

“Well? Don’t lie, Caroline, I
look like shit,” Olivia’s cup clattered as she slammed it on the table. With a
sigh of exasperation, she said, “Katie is driving me and Tony up the wall.
She’s such a spoiled brat. I don’t know what I’m going to do with her.
Last week, we took her and her friend, Megan, to the Sea-Life Centre. Katie wasn’t interested in any of it. She walked right through, from one end
to the other, without looking at the sea-life creatures. She said she was too scared!”

“Aww the poor
dear,” Caroline laughed.

“Poor? She’s a wimp! And
she shows no appreciation, whatsoever. Megan, on the other hand,” Olivia took
another sip, “we couldn’t tear her away from it! Poor thing doesn’t get anything
like this from her parents.”

“That must be awf-“.

“They don’t care about her
the way we care about Katie,” Olivia cut in, “Megan always turns up at school
with her clothes un-ironed; her hair messy; her nails dirty. Katie always has
her clothes pressed, her hair perfect and clean as a whistle, and does she
thank us?” she shook her head, “does she hell!”

She looked at her friend for a reaction, but Caroline sat expressionless. Olivia took this as a sign to continue.

“If you thought
that was ungrateful, you should have heard her last night. I made her spaghetti
bolognaise, and she didn’t want it! She complained of a sore tummy, but I knew
she was just lying because I wouldn’t give her chocolate earlier in the day. Unappreciative
little witch! She turns 8 in a few months. I just hope she grows out of this
diva phase soon.”

Caroline took a sharp breath.
“My goodness, 8 already? It seems like only yesterday I cradled her as a tiny baby,” her eyes misted at the memory, making Olivia raise an eyebrow,
confused. Pulling herself together, Caroline asked, “are you doing
anything nice for her party?”

Olivia snorted “We’ve rented
the Play Area down the road, but whether she deserves it or not is another
matter. We had to book it 12 weeks in advance as well! I invited all her
classmates the other day and she got upset. She said she didn’t want to
have a big party; that she just wanted to stay at home and read,” Olivia
spat the last word out like it was poison, “I told her ‘Katie, you’ve got to
get out of this shy stage. Nobody will like you if your head is always stuck in
a book. You should be grateful the other kids have even agreed to come along’. Honestly, she’s turning into such a weirdo; I don’t know where she gets it
from.” She took another sip of her coffee and looked at her friend for
comfort; for reassurance. “Caroline… what’s the matter?”

Caroline was no longer
listening. She was staring into her cup, her eyes filled with tears.

“What is it, Caroline?”

“I have to go now, but please
do me one favour”, she got up and struggled to keep her voice under control, “please just love Katie for who she is and be thankful for
every second you have with her. You might think she’s ungrateful, but there
may be people out there… who can’t have children… who think you’re
being ungrateful.”

Olivia looked hurt. Offended.
“I’m not ungrateful! I love Katie.”

Caroline’s chair scraped back
as she went to her friend. Bending down, she kissed Olivia’s cheek. “Please
make sure she knows it, every single day.”

She walked away, leaving Olivia
speechless.

Later that night, Olivia told
her husband, Tony, all about it, as they got ready for bed.

“Maybe she’s been told she
can’t have kids.” he said.

“Maybe”, Olivia agreed, “but
even so, that’s hardly my fault, is it?”

“Exactly,” Tony nodded, “it’s
not fair to call you ungrateful ‘cos she can’t have kids. Maybe you
should just phase her out of your life, darling. You’ve obviously outgrown her.”

And so she did.

After a few months, she was
surprised to realise that Caroline hadn’t tried to make contact with her
either. Incensed that Caroline may have thought to phase her out too, she
dialled her number.

It was Katie’s birthday party that day, after all, and
she’d be expecting a present from “Auntie Caroline.”

But she wasn’t there. It was
her mother who answered the phone.

Caroline had passed away, a
fortnight ago. She’d been diagnosed with ovarian cancer only three months
previously. “I’m really surprised you didn’t know about it, I always thought you two
were the best of friends” Caroline’s mother said, through fresh tears.

As she hung up the phone, Tony
appeared at the door, with Katie by his side, in her neatly-pressed tutu dress.
She’d been crying and looked terrified about her upcoming party.

“Are you ready? We’re going
to be late.” Tony checked his watch, impatient.

Olivia reached out to her
daughter and, wordlessly, folded her into her arms and squeezed her tight. She met Katie’s questioning eyes.
“Would you prefer to go upstairs and read your book?”

The young girl looked cautious,
as though being asked a trick question. She stayed silent, which pained Olivia’s
heart. Kissing her face repeatedly, her fresh tears meshed with her daughter’s
drying ones.

“Tony, call the party off. We’re
doing whatever makes the birthday girl happy.”

Katie had a wonderful birthday. And from that day onward, she was made to feel very loved. Every single day.

The End.

Today’s song is Unfinished Sympathy from Massive Attack. Enjoy!