Or of making embarrassing to-the-point comments.
“Jason, you do know that you can bring a boyfriend home to spend the night if you want?”
Jason was so astonished his mouth dropped open and he gaped like a fish. His discombobulation must have shown in his face, because Mrs Cumberledge laughed.
“I'm not completely green you know,” she said. “As long as you don't make a racket in the wee hours.”
Jason looked at her then bowed his head in thanks. “Thank you. Actually, as it happens, I don't, um, have a boyfriend at the moment.”
“Well, when you do,” she replied placidly.
All at once, Jason felt he could tell her everything about himself and Brent.
So he did.
Halfway through Jason's tearful recitation of what had happened, Mrs Cumberledge went through to the the kitchen and returned with a box of tissues.
“The kettle's on, she said,” and we can have a nice cup of tea.”
“I'm so sorry I'm making such a fuss,” choked out Jason, wiping his eyes.
“Love is important. And so is grief. I don't mind in the least.”
She listened quietly to Jason's tale, and at the end sighed, and said, “You know, every one of us has done something we're ashamed of. But if we give ourselves to self-disgust and self-blame, we won't make things any better. All we can do is learn from our mistakes so that we don't repeat them.”
No comments:
Post a Comment