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A Thwart Of Plans

WHITNEY'S POV

"Dad, what is wrong with mom?" Martin asked as he stared steadily at him.

I was standing beside him as I tried to control the tears that were threatening to stream down my face.

"At least you ought to greet me before asking me questions," my father said with slight anger.

"I am sorry. Good morning, dad," he greeted.

"Good morning," he responded before he turned to look at me.

"Good morning, dad," I greeted him.

"Good morning, Whitney."

"Dad, please, tell me. What is wrong with mom?" Martin asked with concern in his voice

"Can we at least come inside the room before you start asking us questions? Can't you see that we are still standing outside?" my dad asked in exasperation.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Martin said as he moved aside and I also did the same making way for them.

I watched as my father wrapped his arms around my mother and they walked slowly into the room.

"Whitney, I want your mother to lie on your bed until we are ready to leave for the hospital. I have ordered a
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