January 21st - Telling Mum and Dad

Mum and Dad were not expecting me. I arrived carrying a bunch of flowers and the roasting dish I had borrowed from them at Christmas.
Mum, in the kitchen, seated at table going through her bank statement and checking off items in her cheque book. Enter Steph through back door.
Mum: Hello! Hi Neffie! What brings you here?
Steph; Hi Mum, I just thought I'd say hi, and I really needed to bring back this roasting dish.
Mum; Oh, okay. Just a minute, I'm in the middle of these bank statements. (busies self with adding up and totalling things on table).

Mum carries on. Steph wanders into lounge to find Dad in a chair, trying to do his speech therapy exercises - making a face and uttering a sound - eeeee, mmm etc.
Dad is suitably surprised to see me. Gives me a 'you ok?' expression. I never drive 70 miles to visit them unannounced, and never ever in term time. I tell him, it's all right I haven't been sacked or suspended, but I do have a day off and wanted to come and see them. I said I'd talk to them both together a bit later on. Dad is patient, and we 'chat' about other things.

Mum offers cups of tea and then explains that Dad has a chiropodist appointment in twenty minutes in the village. We all go. It's quite good.

The chiropodist has a spare slot and does my feet too. Wonderful; now I have soft feet - hard skin removed and nails properly serviced - all for £15!

Then we have to fuss about lunch. Then we have to eat lunch, Dad and me. Mum ate earlier when she left us at the chiropodist. She fusses in the kitchen. I tell Dad that I have come to speak to them both, and I have a little cry on his shoulder. Dad tries really hard to get Mum to come and sit down and listen to whatever my news might be. He stands around flapping and gesturing. He reminds me of Daddy Pingu.
Mum lashes out. Why should she have to stop the very important job of loading the dishwasher / wiping out the fridge / tidying the shelves / whatever just because Stephanie has turned up out of the blue and wants an audience!? She delays some more.

I just sit in the dining room and wait. Poor Dad tries again. Gets his head bitten off again. Eventually she comes and I get her to sit down.
I feel really mean doing this. She has more than enough angst every day ever since Dad's massive stroke in October. Who will she be able to talk this through with? Dad too - how can he mull it over? He can't speak. And she can't listen.

Deep breath.

Steph and parents sitting at dining table.
Steph: Right, well, I could be here because I have lost my job, but it's not that. Or I could have been suspended, falsely accused of child abuse. But it's not that. It could be, but it isn't, that we need money, -
Mum: Is Bill all right? Has he lost his job?
Steph : No. And the children are fine, and Bill and I are very happily married. In fact better than ever. So what does that leave? Well.. (another breath).. it's me... I've got breast cancer.
Mum: Oh Neffie!