"Now children," Luke said picking up the dessert menu for Tasty Morsels Café. He nodded. "Does your mother still make cream pies?"
Rebecca gazed at her engagement ring and wondered if saying yes was a good idea. Luke promised it would be a lovely family meal. Everything seemed to have gone swimmingly until Luke started bringing sexual innuendo into it.
Henry shook his little head. "We stayed over at Zach's this week. He made us Fesenjān."
"What's that?"
"It's a Persian stew with grounded walnuts and pomegranate juice."
Luke's lips quivered, his eyes squinted in disgust. "God, that sounds disgusting."
"We should have saved some for you," Annalise said. "It was very nice. It was like pudding and dinner all in one. I feel bad for the ducks."
"Why is that?" Henry asked his sister.
"Because we ate it."
Rebecca knew when Luke was going to say something out of term, especially when it comes to black people. Don't you dare, Rebecca thought. Keep your racist comments to yourself.
"You know what?" Luke covered his face with the menu. Rebecca didn't like the fact that Luke's hand went under the table when he said, "I really miss your mother's cream pies."
"Rebecca..." Annalise poked her on the back. "Why are you giving Daddy evils?"
She gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"So, children," Luke said trying to shake off the tension between him and his fiancée. "Do you fancy anything from the menu?"
The twins looked at the menu together and then looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders in unison. Then Henry turned his head towards his dad. "I think we'll just have some ice cream."
He raised his eyebrow, "You always have ice cream. You should try something different."
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "If they want ice cream, then let them have ice cream."
"I've got to think of Henry's sugar levels," Luke hissed at Rebecca. "Oh they've still got Peach Brown Betty, remember it on my stag do – so moist I could lick her all clean."
Rebecca's head shook, and her mouth dropped open. The twins were fixated at their father's rant. With the enthusiasm in his tone and the way he licked his lips. Rebecca was convinced that he was drunk. What she wanted to call him, she couldn't because of his kids.
"Oh what an Eton mess that was," Luke cheered on with his eyes on the menu and his most likely somewhere else. "Eve's pudding a bit too soggy for my liking. But I don't mind biting into a fat rascal from time to time. Gosh dead man's leg, what a fun name for little roly-poly. And I love tarts, Henry you must try the tarts out. And Annalise, dearie I think you'd love spotted dick."
"Right that's it!" Rebecca stood up and slammed her fists on the table. Everyone was looking, but Rebecca didn't care. The kids froze with their eyes open like they were watching a horror film. "I've had enough of you and dirty mouth."
"Rebecca! What's gotten over you?"
"Everything that's come of your mouth since we've came here is complete and utter filth."
Luke screeched as if he'd been kicked in between his legs. "I haven't said or done anything wrong."
"Talking about your ex-wife's cream pie and your love for prostitutes – all this in front of your own children."
Luke exploded with giggles. So much, his glass swayed out of his hand and onto the floor. "Holy shit, Rebecca, you really do have a one-track mind. I've been talking about puddings the whole time."
"Don't give me that bollocks, I know what you're like!"
"Um... Rebecca," Henry said. "Daddy's really telling the truth."
The waiter glided past the other tables with a bottle in his hand. "Would you like another drink, Sir?"
"Yes please!"
Henry whispered to Annalise, "We should tell Mummy about this."
She nodded. "I'll send her a message." Annalise got her Hello Kitty phone out and started banging on the touchscreen: Daddy and Stepmum are saying naughty words at the restaurant!
Meanwhile, Henry sent his mother his own text message on his iPhone shaped as a robot: Mummy, what's a prostitute? Rebecca says Daddy loves them.
YOU ARE READING
Pen Beneath The Bush
Short StoryA collection of Flash fictions and short stories including fanfiction I've written over the years.