Disclosure

This piece is part of Greta's Story.  It happens sometime after The Godmother and before What She Wants.  Of course, I hope that it can stand alone if you're not familiar with her storyline.


He found her slumped against the wall, lean legs stretched in front of her.  Baby weight had never had the courage to creep into those legs.  Tears clung to her eyelashes, unsure about falling.

“Lu?  You ok?” Paul asked, concerned.  Louise’s tears were usually reserved for an audience, maximizing their effect.

“You know she’s my life, right?”

“Elisabeth?” Paul asked, confused.

Louise nodded.  Paused.  Sighed.  Blinked back her tears, letting them moisten the glittering blue orbs into sapphires.

“Did something happen to –“

“No!  Oh Paul, no.  Nothing like that,” Louise answered, unguarded, adoring eyes wandering to the Moses basket where their young daughter slept, curled around her closed fist.

Letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Paul sank to the wood plank floor next to his wife.  Perfectly diffused light danced around their feet, chipped polish beautifully lit, the reason Louise had fallen in love with this house.

Louise slid her feet around Paul’s, leaned into his shoulder, and sighed again.  Paul breathed in the scent of her hair, lavender, and as familiar to him as the dramatic façade that hid her better, secret emotions.

“It’s just that my career, my photography career, had just started coming together,” she explained, patiently, sighing again.

Paul barely let himself think that one fashion shoot didn’t make a career.

 Love, loyalty, and honest appreciation for her talent prevented him from losing confidence in her, even when he rationally knew how high she was reaching.

“Becoming a mother doesn’t mean you’re not a photographer anymore,” he said, instead, gently speaking into the top of her head.

“Vogue’s not exactly seeking out moms taking senior pictures between nursing sessions.”

Frustrated, she pushed her camera across the floor, carefully gauging its weight to make sure she didn’t slam it into her wide desk, sleek and modern across the windowed wall.

“Some days I wish I would have been more like Greta.  She made sure she had this amazing career before even thinking about starting her family,” Louise said, wavering between petulant anger and envy, her genuine love for her sister-in-law keeping her from fully realizing either emotion.

Paul compulsively swallowed, suddenly unable to find any moisture in his throat.  Hiding things from Louise was foreign to him, but his sister’s miscarriage hadn’t seemed like his secret to disclose.

“Lulu.  I, uh...  Lu.  I need to tell you something about Greta.”

photo credit

the prompt:

Write a short fiction or non-fiction piece inspired by any or all of the photo