Taste and See

 Cathy gripped the Louisville Slugger and reviewed her husband's suspicious behavior one more time.

Distracted, vague, looks right through me. Granted, Chris is an absent-minded professor, final exams are always intense and every semester at least one student develops a crush on him. But this bleached-blonde tramp is different. He even waved at her in Home Depot. What's a 20-year-old bimbo doing in Home Depot? He remembered her name, too, he never remembers names. Lana; perfect, blonde, bombshell name. Why did he take his phone into the bathroom this morning? What was he hiding? Things are so different since the kids moved out, we don't feel like us anymore. I'm older, heavier. He hasn't noticed my new hair color.

Cathy hefted the bat to her shoulder and headed for the front door. She'd do a Carrie Underwood on his four-wheel drive. She hummed some of the words, "Maybe he'll think before he cheats" as she jerked the door open.

A red mustang convertible was parked in front of their house, Lana was primping in the rear-view mirror. Cathy dropped the bat; she had a better idea. She'd use her cheating husband's truck to do a Fried Green Tomatoes on the floozy's car, take care of them both at once.

She rehearsed her line in the mirror beside the door, "Face it girl, I'm older and I have more insurance." She tasted bitterness.

Something captured her attention at the top corner of the mirror. A heart with "I Love You" written in lime green, dry eraser. Chris did that sometimes.

Cathy stared at her reflection, "Hello Insecurity. It's been a long time since I let you deceive me for a whole day."

She closed the front door and stepped briskly through the kitchen to the freezer, spooned balls of dough onto a cookie sheet and slid them into the hot oven.

While the cookies baked, Cathy located her husband hunched over his chaotic desk and kissed him on his bald spot."Lime green this time, very cheerful." He grunted, waving a distracted arm in her direction.

The timer went off. After arranging a dozen cookies in a flowered box, she crossed the front lawn to the curb and leaned into the Mustang from the passenger's side holding the warm box out as an offering. The cookies smelled of home.

"Hello, Sweetie. My husband says finals are brutal this semester, so I've baked you some chocolate chip cookies. Our daughter liked them fresh from the oven while she was studying. If you leave now they'll still be warm when you get to your dorm."

The girl froze, lipstick tube poised near her open mouth.

Cathy set the box on the passenger seat and smiled reassurance. "You look like a smart girl, I'm sure you'll do well."

Lana's mouth formed a thank you, but no words came out.

The convertible slowly pulled away from the curb. Cathy pressed her hands against her thick abdomen; chocolate chip cookies tasted better than revenge.