The thick, candied, warm liquid dripped into her open mouth and rolled across her tongue, gently massaging her tastebuds.
Her lips still parted, a sea of small, slivered, rugged pieces poured in right after—signaling her teeth as they crunched down on them carefully.
“How is it?” Ethan asked as he pulled away the large sterling-silver spoon.
“Amazing. As always.” Meri leaned back in her chair.
“You’re just saying that...”
“I’m never just saying that.”
“Well, thank you." Ethan sat back down across from her. He slightly leaned in, grinning. “I appreciate your compliment…
As always.”
He stirred the spoon in its large matching bowl.
“Don’t you ever grow tired of hearing the same kinds of compliments over and over again?” Meri turned to him.
“From you? No. And it isn’t just about the compliments.”
“Then, what is it?”
“You know what it is.”
“Maybe,” said Meri. “But I'd like to hear you say it…”
“It’s you…” said Ethan as his face perked up. “…Enjoying… my creation.”
“Why does that matter so much to you?”
“Because I created it. It’s my baby. So, I like to see it cherished. Appreciated,” he said as he continued to methodically stir.
“What if I didn’t cherish it?”
“What?”
“What if… I didn’t really like it? What if I were just saying I did...when I really didn’t?”
Ethan's eyes shot over at Meri—darted perfectly onto their bullseye. The spoon lay still in his hand.
After a few more moments, his gaze calmed, and he pretended to be unfazed.
He began stirring again.
“I don’t think you would do that."
“No. No, you’re right,” she continued to peer in his direction.
I wouldn’t.”
Meri finished the dish several minutes later, softly licking the last of the red sauce from her lips.
She swallowed the last of her glass of wine.
“What did this one look like?” she asked softly.
“Well, it’s the color of crimson. And rough on the sides, smooth on top.”
“Yeah,” said Meri. “I could feel it...”
“It’s actually quite a magnificent red, really. A very rare hue. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
Meri contemplated his words a few moments.
“I wish I could...s—"
“Well, that’s why I’m here.”
A silence fell over them as Ethan collected their empty plates, wine glasses, and silverware and walked towards the stairs.
“I remember..." Meri started, her voice suddenly lifted as Ethan paused mid-step and turned back to her. “...When I was a little girl, I was at a friend’s birthday party, and she had this big strawberry cake. It was a really bright red and shaped like a big strawberry with a huge smile in the middle. The smile and eyes were drawn on with blue-colored icing."
She smiled as her eyes brightly squinted, thinking back.
"I remember the cake was so, deep red, and it looked so good. Like you just knew it was going to be the sweetest, most delicious thing you’d ever eaten.”
Meri’s voice lowered as her smile slowly faded. “But when you bit into it, it was actually really, really bland. It was so bland, it was almost bitter.” She shook her head slowly, her face now slightly scrunched. “It wasn’t sweet like it was supposed to be...or like it looked like it should be.”
Her head lowered.
“It turned out my friend was diabetic, so she couldn’t have sugar, but instead of adding artificial sweetener or honey or something to it, or maybe even getting her something else completely, her parents just made her a cake...without any sweetness.”
She raised her head towards Ethan.
“Doesn’t that seem cruel?”
“Yeah… Yeah," he said as he stood there, his eyes lowered. "That… does seem cruel.”
“I never looked at strawberry cake, or strawberries, or cake, the same…after that. I’m sure neither did any of the other kids.
I wonder what those kids are up to today.”
“Probably nothing interesting,” Ethan said as he turned again for the stairs.
“Maybe.
Hey, what’s the weather like out there today?”
“It’s…overcast. Not much to see.”
“What's ‘overcast’ again? It’s been a while since you last mentioned it...”
“It’s like… Grey, cloudy… Looking like it might rain.”
“…Oh. Rain,” Meri repeated softly.
“....What?”
“I’d like to feel it again someday...”
“My Leanne, we already talked about this.”
“I know, but...I just don’t understand. I just want to… feel what it’s like out there again. It’s been so long. I just wanna feel it. That’s all.”
“There isn’t anything for you out there, my dear, I promise. Everything you need is right in here.”
Ethan took the dirty dishes upstairs.
Minutes later, he came back down for the trash, seasonings, and the remaining bowl of leftover food.
“When are you going to the store again?” Meri asked him.
“Later today. Why? Do you need something?”
“A new audiobook would be nice.”
“Well, I don’t need to go to the store to get that. But I'm glad you liked the first one. What kind do you want to listen to next?”
“Maybe something on… philosophy, or…. Psychology,” she said.
“Mmm I don’t know, that seems a bit...heavy. I think maybe something more lighthearted and funny might be more suiting for my Leanne.”
“Can you bring me a… real book?”
“A book? But you can’t—”
“I know, but… I’d just like to have one. Maybe I can learn...somehow.”
“Learn someh—? Okay,” Ethan chuckled. “Sure, whatever. I’ll bring you a book. What kind of book do you want? I know not philosophy—you might wanna crawl before you can walk.”
“An...encyclopedia.”
“An encloped— My Leanne, they don’t make those anymore. At least I don’t think they do. On the off chance they do, you’d probably have to go hunt them down in the library or something.”
“I’d like an encyclopedia.
Or something like that.”
“Look, I’ll bring you a magazine. Women’s Health or Vogue or somethin’. Hell, I honestly don’t even know if they sell those anymore.”
“No, no! I don’t want a magazine, it’s too so—I want something like an encyclopedia. So I can feel it.”
Ethan let out a low sigh.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you,” she said, smiling softly.
“Anything for you, my Leanne.”
Ethan ascended the stairs again.
Once he reached the top, he briefly glanced down before closing the heavy steel door behind him.
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Vivid details and heart wrenching. You drop hints that something isn’t right and slowly turn up the volume, with a gut wrenching punchline.
Powerful storytelling, well done!
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