The Straight And Narrow ~ Canon Oneshot
Genre: Canon / Oneshot
Authors: cornflake2912
Warnings: Angst, written from a point of view we haven't heard of before
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Annie Proulx. I'm not earning any money from this and am writing just for fun.
Feedback: I'd appreciate it.
Authors' Notes: Thanks a lot to Nachtschatten for her help and especially to hellspark72 for taking the time to correct this angsty shot.
The Straight and Narrow
After washing his hands, he sat down at the table and ate dinner. His wife had fixed his favorite meal: beans and steak. His daughters were laughing and chatting about school.
“You know, Dad?” his eldest girl said, suddenly serious.
“Whut?”
“There’s this teacher, Mr. Gordon and he…”
“Shhh!” her sister hissed and shook her head no.
Their father frowned. “What is it then?”
“Well…they say that he…,” she looked down on her plate. “…that he likes men better than women.”
The father froze and nearly choked on a bean.
“I told you not to tell him,” the younger girl whispered and kicked her sister’s leg under the table.
Their mother stood up, tried to change the tense mood by getting her husband a fresh beer from the fridge.
“How was your day? Did you have a lot of work? You look exhausted.”
The man continued his meal, still frowning. He shrugged. “As always.”
“Did you get hurt?”
“Huh?”
“There’s blood on your shirt… and a bruise on your cheek.”
The man kept silent until they finished dinner.
The girls brought him dessert and apologized: “We’re sorry, Dad. We shouldn’t have talked about sinful things at the dinner table. We will confess in church on Sunday.”
The father hugged his girls and kissed them on their heads.
“It’s OK. You both are my angels, you know that, don’t you?”
The girls smiled and said “I love you, Dad.”
He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Touching the bruise on his cheek he remembered how had it felt when he had punched him. He took off his shirt and threw it on the floor, images in his mind of the man whose blood stuck on its sleeves.
His wife joined him and embraced him from behind. Their eyes met in the mirror.
“I’m worried, Jim. Are you sure you‘re alright? Did anything happen at the garage?”
“Everything’s alright. I told you.”
Her wife’s hand rested on his belly, then moved downwards.
“Come to bed,” she whispered.
“Carla and Sophie asleep?”
“Yes. Come on. Come on.”
“I’ll be there in a second. Just wait for me.”
He heard the door shut and looked at his hands. He remembered what it had felt like when he’d held the tire iron between his fingers, gripped tightly, hitting, causing him to struggle and scream.
It was the right thing to do. He had to protect his daughters.
And tomorrow he would take a look at the teacher, Mr. Gordon.
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Authors: cornflake2912
Warnings: Angst, written from a point of view we haven't heard of before
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Annie Proulx. I'm not earning any money from this and am writing just for fun.
Feedback: I'd appreciate it.
Authors' Notes: Thanks a lot to Nachtschatten for her help and especially to hellspark72 for taking the time to correct this angsty shot.
The Straight and Narrow
After washing his hands, he sat down at the table and ate dinner. His wife had fixed his favorite meal: beans and steak. His daughters were laughing and chatting about school.
“You know, Dad?” his eldest girl said, suddenly serious.
“Whut?”
“There’s this teacher, Mr. Gordon and he…”
“Shhh!” her sister hissed and shook her head no.
Their father frowned. “What is it then?”
“Well…they say that he…,” she looked down on her plate. “…that he likes men better than women.”
The father froze and nearly choked on a bean.
“I told you not to tell him,” the younger girl whispered and kicked her sister’s leg under the table.
Their mother stood up, tried to change the tense mood by getting her husband a fresh beer from the fridge.
“How was your day? Did you have a lot of work? You look exhausted.”
The man continued his meal, still frowning. He shrugged. “As always.”
“Did you get hurt?”
“Huh?”
“There’s blood on your shirt… and a bruise on your cheek.”
The man kept silent until they finished dinner.
The girls brought him dessert and apologized: “We’re sorry, Dad. We shouldn’t have talked about sinful things at the dinner table. We will confess in church on Sunday.”
The father hugged his girls and kissed them on their heads.
“It’s OK. You both are my angels, you know that, don’t you?”
The girls smiled and said “I love you, Dad.”
He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Touching the bruise on his cheek he remembered how had it felt when he had punched him. He took off his shirt and threw it on the floor, images in his mind of the man whose blood stuck on its sleeves.
His wife joined him and embraced him from behind. Their eyes met in the mirror.
“I’m worried, Jim. Are you sure you‘re alright? Did anything happen at the garage?”
“Everything’s alright. I told you.”
Her wife’s hand rested on his belly, then moved downwards.
“Come to bed,” she whispered.
“Carla and Sophie asleep?”
“Yes. Come on. Come on.”
“I’ll be there in a second. Just wait for me.”
He heard the door shut and looked at his hands. He remembered what it had felt like when he’d held the tire iron between his fingers, gripped tightly, hitting, causing him to struggle and scream.
It was the right thing to do. He had to protect his daughters.
And tomorrow he would take a look at the teacher, Mr. Gordon.
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