June 2024 Flash Lit 5.3 - Passionfruit

Bill was grumbling again, so Louise turned down her hearing aids.  That turned his voice into a low continuous indistinct rumble not unlike the sound of the waves on the beach.  Bill was not having a good time, poor dear, but Louise was determined to enjoy herself.

The air smelled of salt and plumeria.  Plumeria had been a pleasant surprise for Louise from the moment she had seen the first one clipped above the flight attendant’s left ear.  The white and gold flowers looked almost fake; the thick petals could have been porcelain.

 

“Hurry up and sit down,” Bill had said.  “My feet hurt.”  Louise had plopped happily into the window seat, luxuriating in the blue of the sky and the blue of the ocean, the latter looking like a slightly wrinkled version of the former.

 

Louise had chosen the coffee shop for this morning’s breakfast because it looked like it had been there a long time.  She knew Bill had trouble dealing with novelty before breakfast.

 

But she had forgotten about novelty in breakfast.  The coffee was just the overcooked mass-produced kind Bill favored, the eggs were over easy, and the bacon crisp.  Bill had been able to overlook the presence of linguica on the menu, but the wedge of pineapple garnishing his plate irritated him no end.  When the waitress set down Louise’s fruit salad with yogurt Bill couldn’t believe it.  “I don’t even know what those are.  Those aren’t fruit.”

 

Louise savored the papaya, the guava, the passionfruit, the pineapple, all sweet and a little sharp and a little musky.

 

The deep drumbeat of Bill’s irritation faded as more coffee and bacon disappeared into him.  Louise turned her hearing aids back on in time to hear him say, “But I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

 

“Happy anniversary, honey,” Louise said.