In under the wire for the Recipe challenge
Pancakes
A young couple, both tall and blonde, still trying to find out what makes a happy family. One man, convinced by her love he’s not a freak, one woman convinced love minus alcohol might equal happiness, even without the necessary pinch of cash. She’s made pancakes, one of the five meals she knows she can duplicate, and she brings them to the table still feeling like a wife in a play. Maybe she waits for a peck; maybe sometimes in those early days she got it. Monday morning quarterback, he picks at his plate. “You used too much oil,” he explains, in the tone of a boy used to favoring himself.
“I did not...they’re just fine, you fucking baby,” When did that stop sounding fond and indulgent? Whenever that was, that was when it was really over, whatever the papers said.
“Well, you know, with my stomach..” Everybody knew about his stomach. She heads him off, because every meal is still a commitment. She can’t just throw out a plate of food. “I know they’re fine,” she bluffs, “And to prove it to you, I’ll eat them myself.”
Later that night, as she heaves, she hears him laughing. Did he also bring her crackers and lemon-lime soda? Making a story is like cooking...the things you leave out change what you make.