Gratitude

Written for https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2023/11/23/reenas-xploration-challenge-308/

“ Wear gratitude like a cloak and it will feed every corner of your life. ”Rumi

‘Wear gratitude like a cloak, and it will feed every corner of your life.’

‘Wear gratitude like a cloak, and it will feed every corner of your life,’ Martha said, an arm around Tabitha.

The brightness in her granddaughter had faded away. Her fashion sense changed too. Gone were the colourful skirts, which fell just below the knee. Shoes with a kitten heel faded into sensible boots. A quietness squashed the spark of life, to be replaced with a girl old before her time.

‘It’s not what you think, Nan. I have been working on my assessments for university; it is a lot of pressure to get them in on time. I thought the door was open, and just walked right into it.’

‘This is me you are talking to. That bruise didn’t happen from walking into a door. It happened because William punched you.’

‘No! Just because it happened to you doesn’t mean you get the right to punish all men. An accident can just be an accident!’

‘Tabitha, it is because I went through it I can see your relationship for what it is. Please love, you have only been together for two months. He is taking control of you, telling you what to wear, who to go out with.’

Negative air swirled, stretching the distance like a taut elastic band. On the verge of breaking, Tabitha hurried towards the bay window. She followed the slender path of rain, cascading down the cold glass. Tap, tap, tap; the sound of the storm battered her only hope.

‘Tabitha, I wish you had met Christine.’

‘Christine?’ Tabitha turned around, trembling hands plunged into her pockets. ‘She was your cellmate?’

Martha couldn’t help but smile at her flaming red hair and temper to match. ‘Without her, I would still be in prison. She made me see that the only person to blame for his death was your grandfather.’

‘William isn’t him, though.’

‘Isn’t he? How many times has he brought you flowers, or a gift to say sorry for getting angry? How many times has he told you he was sorry? I assume his latest outburst is your fault?’

Eyes lowered to the carpet, Tabitha tugged at her high collar.

‘It was always mine, or so he would drum into me. There could have been something in my manner which caused him to get angry with me. I moulded myself into this perfect woman. Baked cakes for his neighbourhood watch meetings. Blue was a colour he loved on me, so most of my clothes were always in that shade. I had all these beautiful clothes and the one I loved to wear the most was an old gardening jumper. I just want you to take a step away and come back home for a while. Put some distance between you.’

‘It’s not happening again, please Nan, I don’t want to argue.’