Strawberry

Sundaes and Princes

Dinner was loud, as expected, which made it difficult for you to hear the guest sitting beside you.

You'd been zoning out ever since Din's eyes met yours from across the table. He'd been kind enough to listen to a woman named Dima who was known to be a bit of chatterbox. She meant well, but most of the time she spoke it was about her family or her dog which had a tendency to put anyone sucked into her trap into "rest mode". Nevertheless, Din listened carefully and nodded when nods were appropriate and smiled when smiles were pertinent. The man was pleasantly charming, grin faint but with affable disposition. It wasn't any wonder when those around him continued to ask questions about himself, to which he answered with vague reserve.

While dinner was entertaining enough, it lagged on more than you'd anticipated. The roast was tender and well-seasoned, simmering with heat, and the company praised your culinary skills with hearty acclamation. Afterwards, the guests separated into their respectable groups, jubilant conversations echoing about the yard. Your sisters were busy amongst their own crowds with faces familiar since childhood, letting out a chorus of laughter whenever someone said something amusing. They were your confidants as well, but you were so distracted by the mess left behind that you couldn't help but start tidying it up.

It wasn't long until Madeline set her hand atop your own while you reach for a dirtied plate. She gave you that look she bore when she felt you were doing too much, eyes heavy with exasperation at the idea you'd even considered cleaning at a time like this. You pause and smile feebly at her, a little guilty.

"We can do that later." She takes the plate from your grasp, setting it back down a little more forcibly than you'd like. "Enjoy the party. Grab a sundae at the bar - it was your idea to set it up."

You glance at the setup near the house. An ice cream station with dozens of toppings and syrups beckons you temptingly.

You sigh and pat her hand. "Alright," you murmur in defeat. "Do you want one?"

"Sure, I'll take one." She links her arm within yours and places a kiss on your cheek.

The two of you go a little crazy with the ice cream. You've piled it high with chocolate and vanilla scoops, decorating it with colorful sprinkles, and dousing it in raspberry syrup. Madeline decides on plain vanilla with chocolate curls.

"You know..." she begins, voice a bit too playful in its caution. "I saw him looking at you."

You freeze, like the ice cream, but shake your head. So you hadn't imagined it. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Is it such a strange idea that a man might be interested in you?" she proposes, placing a long-handled spoon in both of your glasses.

"Yes," you reply with a small, bolshie laugh.

She says your name in pest. "You're beautiful and sweet. Charlie once called you enchanting."

Charlie was a childhood friend - like most of them. He was also bestowed the nickname "Charming Charlie" and it wasn't just because he was blond, handsome, and had the reputation of a Casanova. Charlie complimented everybody - especially women.

You remind her of this with a scoff as the two of you sit on a log beside the river. The water laps gently against the banks, rippling slightly from the hop of a bullfrog in the distance.

"Charlie may be charming, but he doesn't lie." Madeline takes a spoonful of her ice cream and then rolls her eyes in ecstasy at the sweetness. "This was the best decision I've made tonight."

"Don't think I haven't noticed Tommy giving you bedroom eyes throughout the entirety of dinner," you clap back. You also moan in rapture at the taste.