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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2193280
Rated: E · Fiction · Family · #2193280
Human relationships are not always easy.

Father and daughter

"Why can't you accept him?" Sue Elk looked up to her father's face. They were sitting on a porch. The country side opened before them.
"Sue, please. I have no time for this. Believe me, he is not the right guy for you."
Sue sighed. If her father had only known the truth...but Sue had vowed herself she would never reveal the truth. Not before the time would be right.
If you only knew, Dad...if you only knew, Sue thought and stroked her abdomen. But she had to keep her promise. She let her long, blonde hair drop down to her chest.
"Do you have something personal against him, Dad?" Sue asked.
"Sue sweetie...Mark Steel is not the right guy for you. I know you want to get settled and marry, but he is not the one I would accept. Why would not you try to meet someone else? Mark gets you only hurt, and I don't want to see you get yourself hurt."
Sue only sighed. Victor Elk, her father, had not accepted her previous boyfriends either.
"You accepted Ida's boyfriend", Sue protested.
"I did. He is a good man, and I know your sister will be very happy. The wedding date is set already. Have they sent you an invitation?" Victor’s voice was raspy and his hair and face were gray.
"I believe she won't even invite me. I do not know why. Maybe she and her husband just hate me. I admit I envy her happiness." Sue's voice was low but Victor was able to hear the gloom.
*****
“Sue, I know that man is not good for you. He has a secret. I know it. I can’t reveal it to you yet, but once the time is right, I promise I will. Right now I want you to help me to arrange your sister’s wedding.”
“All right, Dad.” Sue’s voice was flat. All the excitement was gone. They were walking near the lake and the church. That church was yellow and white. The roof was brown.
“I spoke with Ida. They invited me – as their last guest, like I would be some…bug they want to smash to get rid of it or something.”
“Sue, don’t say that. Your sister is nervous about her wedding. Her nerves are on edge. This will be the most important day of her life this far. Please, try to rejoice with her. I know your turn will come soon.” Victor tried to sound more convincing than he really felt.
“All right, Dad. Where should we start?”
“We have to decorate the church. Then you have to take care of the dresses. “
Sue sighed inward and followed her father to the church. The corridor from the door to the altar was long, way too long, Sue thought.
“I think I know what I am going to wear. That dark red velvet dress you brought me from Amsterdam. It is perfect for fall wedding.”
“And you look gorgeous when you put it on.” Victor’s voice was full of pride.
*****
It was November 17th. Ida's wedding day, Sue thought when she stood before her mirror. It showed her whole body from head to toe.
I am not that beautiful. I know I will be just a pile of dust in my dress when she sails in. But on the other hand, she has the right to be the queen of the day.
Sue brushed her long, blonde hair until all the tangles were gone. Then she tied her hair up and went downstairs.
"Dad, I am ready."
"You look gorgeous." Victor's voice was full of admiration and pride. "Your dress must be one of the most beautiful ones."
"Yeah, I guess so." Sue tried very hard to smile and sound excited, but failed miserably. She hoped her father would not notice.
"I don't know if I can eat anything right now...or during the reception."
"I don't accept your going there without eating first. You won't go anywhere without breakfast." Now Victor's voice had an edge Sue recognized well from her childhood.
"All right, father", was her only response.
"I can't take you there. I promised Ida I would walk the last steps with her. I mean the last steps before I give her to her fiancé. You know what I mean."
"Yes. Do not worry about me, I'll go with Stephen."
Oh Ida...if you only knew what I bring with me, Sue thought.
© Copyright 2019 Lucinda Lynx (lucindalynx at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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