“You should’ve married Valerie! She’s so well-kept, slender, and younger than you. I’m still in my prime, and my wife’s gone old…” “Why are you bringing up Valerie Simmons? Seen her somewhere? She wouldnt look twice at youshe married that colonel and lives like a queen!”
Rosemary was frying cheese pancakes for her husbands breakfast. He loved them. Hed wake up any minute, and theyd be readyhot, with sour cream.
“Rosie! Where are my trousers?”
He was up. Rosemary moved the pan aside and went to the bedroom where he was shouting.
“Nick, I put them in the washthey were filthy. Here, take these clean ones.”
“Filthy? When did I even get them dirty? Youre always doing things behind my back!”
“Oh, so youd rather wear them dirty for a month? Stop complaining. Here, fresh ones…”
“Ugh! I hate thesetheyre tight and uncomfortable! Hurry up and wash my favorite pair!”
“I *am* washing them! Stop shouting. Go wash up and eatthe pancakes are hot on the table.”
Nicholas stomped to the bathroom. Rosemary poured his tea, adding two sugars just how he liked it. She dolloped sour cream into a bowl.
“Ugh, stinking up the place with these pancakes! Nothing better to do?”
“I made them for *you*, Nick. Why the grumbling? Got out on the wrong side of the bed?”
Nicholas ate in silence.
“Teas scalding! Couldnt cool it down? Blimey, burned my tongue! And these pancakes are rubberydisgusting! Shouldve made bacon sandwiches instead. Keep this slop for yourself!”
“Dont be daft. Theyre perfect, same as always. Eat upyou dont need more sandwiches, not with that belly of yours…”
“Oh, now my bellys the problem? Whens the last time *you* looked in the mirror? Pudgy as a Christmas goose! And your grey rootstoo lazy to dye them? Proper old biddy now…”
Rosemary stared, stunned. Hed never spoken to her like this. What had gotten into him?
“Nick, watch your mouth! Ive always been curvysince whens it bothered you? And Im *not* dyeing my hairyou know Im allergic. Health comes first. Im not a spring chicken anymorenearly seventy!”
“*Your* bellys from ale, not my cooking. I make healthy meals, but you just sit glued to the telly!”
“You shouldve married Valerie! Shes classy, slim, younger…”
“Why keep harping on Valerie Simmons? Spotted her at the pub? Shes *married*, living the high lifeno kids, no worries, spoiled rotten. Meanwhile, we raised a fine son who helps us, grandkids to cherishwhats to complain about?”
“Like youd know! Valerie fancied methrew herself at me!”
“When? Pull the other one!”
“Back then… It happened.”
“And whatd you say?”
“What could I say? Im a bloke. Didnt want to hurt her feelings. She was a stunnerunlike *you*. Mum warned meDont marry Rosie, shes plain and older. Shouldve listened. Now Im stuck with a nag who cant even make a decent sandwich!”
“Let *Valerie* make your sandwiches, then! Too soft to say no… Chased skirts behind my back…”
“Why stick with me all these years if Im such a burden? Im only *three* years older!”
“Dunno. Retired now, realized my mistake. Youre dull as dishwater. Plenty of women fancied mebut I came home to *you* and our lad. And you never appreciated it!”
“*Never* appreciated you? I scraped and savedbest for you and Simon, second-hand for me. Look at your wardrobe! Boats, fishing gear, radioswhen did I ever complain?”
“Like you *bought* us anything! And your cookings foulnothing like Mums, God rest her.”
“Nick, was it *all* bad? Cant you say one kind word? Whats wrong with you today? Are you ill?”
“*Youre* the ill one! Sod thisIm watching the news. And it wasnt just Valeriethere was Tamara, too. Years back, when you visited your mum…”
“Oh, Tamaras a firecracker, was she? Not like *you*. Always popping pills, clutching your chest. Some life Ive gotshackled to a sickly old baggage…”
Rosemary untied her apron and walked out, chest burning.
Hed *cheated*. And shed never guessed. Theyd had a good marriageor so she thought.
Theyd married for love, sworn vows, built a life. Now hed spat it all back. A bad wife, apparently. How do you come back from that?
*Hed* proposed on bended knee. Shed loved him faithfully, spoiled him. Hed loved her toothough kindness had dried up years ago. But never cruelty like this.
“Tamara… *Valerie*… How *could* he?”
Shed never strayed, though men had trieda colleague, even an old school flame at thirty-five. “*Still love you*,” hed said. “*Leave himIll take you and the boy.*” Shed sent him packing.
And her cooking? Simon and Nick devoured her pancakes, pies, stews. What did *that* mean? Truth at deaths door, was it?
“Nick, Nick… I gave you *everything*…”
Rosemary wandered the streets, drowning in misery. Salt tears streaked her cheeks. The betrayal *ached*.
Meanwhile, Nicholas watched telly, wolfing down pancakes and sandwiches with tea.
Mood foul. Bad dreamRosie leaving on a train, laughing at him. Woke up raging.
Then hed taken it out on her. Head throbbedtoo many pints with the lads last night. Mick kept refilling his glass. Hence the morning bile. Wrong side of bed indeed.
A loud knock. He rushed to the door. Neighbor Deanna stood there.
“Nick! Its Rosie… *Hurry!*”
“What? Whats happened?”
“Just *come*!”
He grabbed a shirt and ran after her, front door swinging wide.
“Deanna, *talk*!”
“Youll see…”
She led him to the park. An ambulance waited.
“Are you her husband?” the medic asked. “Im sorryshes gone. Called it in, but she was already… Did she have heart trouble?”
“*Gone?!* Rosie? She just stepped out… Weak heart, yes, always on pills…”
“Stress can trigger attacks. Any upset today?”
“She was *fine*.”
“Well need an autopsy. Leave your number…”
Nicholas woke at home. No memory of returning. No Rosie. *His fault.*
Whyd he said those things? *Why?* Thered been no other womennever even looked.
Hed loved only herplump, grey, wrinkled, in that floral apron. Warm. *His.* Loved her, but never spoke it.
How would he live alone? It wasnt *true*, Rosie! Your cookings grand, our sons brilliant, we had a good life.
How could words *kill*? Hed known her heart was weaknever dreamed…
A womans hearts fragile. When had he last been kind? Couldnt recall.
But shed always smiled, cheered him, cooked, mended. Kept him right.
What had his spite done? Burned every good thing between them.
That stupid dream… Whatd he tell Simon? The grandkids? How to live? A foul tongues cost…
Nicholas paced like a madman. Too late. Rosie was gone. His Rosie, his love…
Shed dreamed of the seasidenever been. A cruise. Grandkids weddings. Now, *never*because of *him*.
He collapsed on the bed, sobbing.
“Nick! Lunch is readystill napping?”
He blinked. *Rosemary* stood over him. Rubbed his eyes. She stayed.
“Rosie… *You?!*”
“Who else? Nick, are you poorly?”
“Youre *alive*?!”
“Course I am! Blimey, did you and Mick *spike* your ale last night? I *told* you hes a bad influenceturns you daft!”
“Rosie, *forgive me*! There was no Valerie, no Tamara! Just *you*only ever you!”
He hugged her fiercely, kissing her cheeks.
“Nick, whats got into you? Tamara
