Bitter pill to swallow

This was odd. Her mother calling in the middle of the day? Something was up. Ginny knew it couldn’t be she was ill. Her father would have called if that were the case. Although, he had been rather distant lately.

The usual smile Ginny wore when talking to her mother slipped away as she listened. “And he believes that? He actually believes I would say that?”

“You know your father. He’s stubborn and he always thinks the worse in people,” her mother replied sadly.

“But he obviously believes his sister over me! Well, you can tell him…”

“Ginny, I’ve tried to reason with him, but he’s bullheaded as usual.”

“I never said …”

“I know you didn’t. I don’t blame you. I blame Gretta. She’s a bitter, foul-tempered woman who delights in twisting things around. She could never be happy throughout her life though she had everything she could want. She loves to spread misery wherever she goes. I just wanted you to know.”

Ginny held back angry tears. “And I can’t even talk to him. He never says more than hello to me anymore, and I doubt he’d do even that, if given the choice.”

“You realize your visit here would be…cumbersome at best and downright uncomfortable at worst,” her mother said, in a defeated tone. “It’s not that I don’t want you, Ned and the kids here, but I don’t want you to feel…”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Ginny said, her voice cracking. “I gotta go.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye,” Ginny mumbled before hanging up. Only then did she allow the tears to fall, her thoughts centered on Gretta, the bitch! 

She heard footsteps and quickly wiped her face. She hated being caught crying.

“Hey, I need…” Ned said before he glanced at her face. “What’s wrong?”

As calmly as she could she explained the situation, but by the end of her speech it became more of a rant with language rarely used by her.

“Really?” Ned said blankly. “She actually told them that?”

Ginny nodded. “And if you think I’m ever speaking to that bitch, think again!”

“No, don’t blame you. What are you gonna do?”

 She shrugged and did the only thing she could think of, cook dinner and think.

How to deal with betrayal? She had never needed to know before. Ginny’s first thought was to phone her aunt and tell her precisely what she thought of her, but common sense prevailed, common sense and good breeding. Her mother would never do such a thing, so neither would Ginny. Unlike most women, Ginny prided herself that she had become her wonderfully sensible mother. 

Suffer in silence, that was the family way. That didn’t sit well, though. Shouldn’t the betraying, lying troublemaker have some sort of punishment dealt her? In a just world, yes, but who ever said it was a just world?

“Well, perhaps I’ll be cut out of Pop’s non-existent will,” Ginny muttered to herself as she tossed onions into the browned beef and stirred. “Gretta can have it all to herself. It’s not like I want it and then maybe she’ll be content.”

Ginny scoffed. She knew nothing could do that. But why not? Gretta had so much to be grateful for, a faithful husband, great kids, a lovely home and personal beauty. What more could she want?

What enigmatic thoughts must fill Gretta’s head? To what purpose does she spread her venom? This wasn’t, after all, the first time, but naïve as Ginny always was, she never saw it. She always liked Gretta, which made the betrayal all the more baffling. To what end did Gretta behave this way?

In every life some weltschmerz must fall. There was a difference between how Ginny would deal with it verses her ugly-minded aunt. Ginny wouldn’t allow this episode to make her bitter. Gretta could keep that all to herself.