He’d just returned from the market, and she was rooting through everything.
“You’ve gotten everything on the list?”
He looked away as if he hadn’t heard.
“Hun?”
“What? Yeah.”
“Okay, good.” She placed everything on the counter: the artichoke hearts and cheeses on one side, and the baking ingredients on the other.
“Is there another bag?”
“Nope. That’s it.”
She started sifting through the different items, searching.
“Hun…”
“Yeah?”
“Where’s the rhubarb?”
He looked down at the linoleum floor, avoiding eye contact.
“Where’s the rhubarb?”
He tried to look away, but she followed his gaze.
“Did you forget the rhubarb?”
“Can you stop saying rhubarb?” he asked.
“Where is it!?!”
“Okay, well, I didn’t want to tell you, but I have no idea what rhubarb is. So no, I didn’t get it. Can’t you make the pie without it? I’ve never even heard of it; how important can it be?”
“You want me to make rhubarb pie without the rhubarb?” Anger was in her voice. He looked away again.
“Um…yeah, that probably wouldn’t make sense.”
“Well? Why didn’t you just ask someone!”
“Ask them what rhubarb is? I didn’t want to look stupid, that’s why!”
“What is this, like asking for directions?”
“No,” he said defensively.
“Wait, you DO ask for directions! What the HELL? Why didn’t you just ask someone what rhubarb looked like! Or where they had it!”
“I looked all over the damn produce section, and couldn’t find it! What did you want me to do? Magically learn what it was?”
“Well, did you ask someone?”
“Yes. I asked the man who worked there. He didn’t know what it was either.”
She put her hand on her hip and gave him an angry look.
“Okay, that was a lie.”
“Wait, why didn’t you just call and ask me what it was?”
“I thought you’d make fun of me.”
She grabbed at her hair, pulling it a little, and growled. He tried to leave.
“Where are you going now?”
“I was going to Google rhubarb so I’d know next time.”
“Aren’t you afraid Google will know what a dummy you are?”
He stopped in his tracks and cringed a little. She knew how to insult, that was for sure.
“No!” he said in a childlike voice as he ran from the room.
Inspired by the word rhubarb, sent to me by Elle.
A Flash of Inspiration 