It was their golden anniversary. The children had grudgingly come over to celebrate with them. He’d insisted on it, of course, and they had acquiesced. For his sake, to be sure. Not for her. Never for her.
So she decided to pull out all the stops. She’d spent all week cleaning the house from top to bottom, even moving the refrigerator and the stove in order to clean behind them. She’d put fresh linens and fresh cut flowers in all of the bedrooms. She’d polished the silver and hand-washed the antique lace tablecloth that had been in his family for generations.
Then she’d turned to the menu planning. For appetizers, she would serve cantaloupe and prosciutto as well as fig and chèvre wrapped in bacon. Then, a hearts of palm salad. The main meal would be surf and turf, his favourite. She’d ordered fresh lobster from the fish market and filet mignon from the butcher. Steamed jasmine rice and parmesan roasted asparagus on the side. For dessert, another favourite – white chocolate cheesecake with white chocolate brandy sauce.
She’d taken her time setting the table, making sure the gleaming silverware was perfectly aligned. Each crystal wine glass sparkled invitingly. Each linen napkin was expertly folded into a swan and sat at an exact 45° angle in the middle of every china plate. Everything was perfect.
The children arrived and heartily greeted their father, offering congratulations and pseudo jokes about “trading in the 50 for two 25s”. She accepted their jokes and the perfunctory kisses they proffered with what she hoped was a graceful silence. She invited everyone to the dining room, where the meal awaited. She felt a rush of pleasure when they were unable to conceal their admiration for the beautiful setting.
He moved to the head of the table and sat down. She took the seat to his left and waited for him to begin eating. Once he did, she picked up her fork and knife and cut into her filet mignon. As she chewed the tender morsel, she knew instantly the meat was cooked medium, not medium rare. One bite. And she knew.
The silverware clattered onto her plate as his right hook connected with her cheek.
Welcome to Day 12 of the Second Third Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing. Today’s prompt was One Bite and it was brought to you by the bane of my existence and past president of the Tri-State Amateur Jenga Players Association, P.J. Please click on the links below to visit the other people participating in this challenge. Don’t make me tell you twice.