Copyright © 2022 James Russell Stoakes
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“Something sure smells good!” Sarah called out as she entered the kitchen and hung the keys to her mother’s car on their hook. She didn’t recognize the smell, but it was apparent that her mother had dinner in the oven. “What are you cooking?” She asked loudly towards the living room where she could hear the television.
“Just an oven roast,” her mother said as she entered the kitchen. “You probably smell the sear. Did you see Alice today?” she asked.
“Yeah, I stopped over after work,” she replied as she pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “Is this a good time to talk?” she asked and indicated the opposing chair.
Mrs. Mitchel briefly looked concerned before playfully saying, “This looks serious,” and sitting across from Sarah.
“What’s on your mind? You didn’t break up with Robbie, did you?” She chuckled. “No, that’s not it,” she mused, seeing the expression on Sarah’s face. “Some other secret eating at your conscience?”
Sarah’s face flushed. “Crap! She knows,” crossed her mind. “Sort of,” Sarah stammered. “I need some advice.”
“What kind of advice can I help you with?” Mrs. Mitchel asked with interest.
“I have a secret that I have to share with someone I care about, but they might be angry with me for having the secret in the first place, but I could not share the secret until I knew my suspicions were one hundred percent true,” Sarah blurted out and looked up to meet her mother’s eyes.
“That’s a mouthful,” Sarah’s mom laughed and returned Sarah’s stare.
Mr. Mitchel could be heard outside the door. He entered the room and said, “Wow, something sure smells good!” He turned and saw the two women in his life staring at each other uncomfortably. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No, dear. Have a seat,” Mrs. Mitchel said in a tone that did not invite further conversation.
Mr. Mitchel quickly seated himself at the end of the table.
“Sarah asked me for some advice,” she informed him.
Bill went pale and pulled in a short breath.
“Not that kind of advice,” Mrs. Mitchel comforted her husband before returning her stare to Sarah.
“What the hell?” Sarah thought to herself, confused.
“The longer you wait in a situation like this, the more likely the person you are hiding the secret from will be angry. So you should tell them as soon as you can,” Mrs. Mitchel said with authority.
On hearing his wife’s statement, Bill thought, “What the hell have I walked into?” He glanced towards the door.
“Okay,” Sarah said after a short pause. “Mom?”
“Yes, Sarah?” her mother responded.
“There’s something I need to tell you that you may or may not want to know,” Sarah said, struggling.
“Crap! My evening’s shot,” Bill thought selfishly. “I’m still going to eat whatever is making that delicious aroma!”
“Me?” Sarah’s mom said coyly before asking. “What kind of secret could you be keeping from a forsaken child like me?”
Sarah’s face went red as her anger spiked. “Correct me if I’m wrong, mother,” Sarah said through gritted teeth. “It sounds to me like you may have already figured out what I have to tell you.”
“Would one of you please tell me what’s going on?” Mr. Mitchel pled.
His answer was a quick glance from two angry women. Then, stunned to silence, he sat back, folded his arms, and began to brood.
“I’ve known since shortly after meeting Alice,” Mrs. Mitchel confessed. “I came home that day with a suspicion. So I dug out the photo albums that I inherited from Vivian, and I found enough to draw a conclusion. I’ve been wondering how long it would take you to tell me.”
“Well, it’s good to know I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets,” Sarah snarled accusingly.
Mrs. Mitchel blinked twice as she suddenly realized that Sarah was right.
“That’s enough!” Mr. Mitchel said, slamming his hand on the table and standing. Both ladies were startled by him. He addressed Sarah loudly. “Your tone is out of line from what I expect when you talk to your mother! Correct it.”
“Sorry,” Sarah said to him in recognition of her mistake.
Calming himself but still remaining firm, Mr. Mitchel said, “I’m still not clear on what’s going on here; explain it to me like I’m three.”
Sarah sighed and took a deep breath. “Alice is mom’s biological mother. I waited until I was absolutely sure before telling her. She figured it out before I told her.”
“Oh,” Mr. Mitchel said. “Yeah, that would do it.”
“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Mrs. Mitchel said, interrupting her husband. “Upon reflection, if I had shown you what I found, you probably would have confirmed my suspicions right away. So how did you figure it out?”
“I worked up the courage and asked her this afternoon,” Sarah said. “She said she was unsure how to approach you to tell you or even if she had the right to tell you. So the ball is in your court now.”
The mood in the room had changed. Mr. Mitchel excused himself quietly from the table and moved to the living room. Both women quickly wiped away the tears that had welled up unexpectedly in their eyes.
“I’ll set the table,” Sarah said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Mitchel said. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’ll go with you tomorrow to see my mother.”
Sarah smiled. “I’d like that,” she said.