This story is by Steven C Cochran and won an honorable mention in our 2024 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.
Steven C Cochran is an American living in New Zealand with his wife, son, and two cats. As a longtime video and podcast producer and editor, he has helped tell many stories. Now, he’s channelling his creativity into writing his own tales. Steve also likes an occasional burger.
Fred lays back in his favourite recliner two weeks after heart surgery. A cooking show is on the television and his mouth waters as the chef digs into a burger. The juices drip down the chef’s chin as he chews on the beefy goodness.
The clatter of his wife’s cooking comes from the kitchen next to the lounge. Fred’s pulled out of his dream state as a sulfury stench comes wafting into the lounge. “Fwah, what the hell’s that?”
“Your dinner. You’ll love it,” says Ivy as she stirs the cabbage on the stove.
“Smells like the sewage plant I was repairing a month ago. Is that actual food?”
Ignoring him, she reads the rest of the recipe and turns on the extractor fan. She’s taken leave from her retail job to take care of him for the past two weeks. The doctor told him to eat healthy or he won’t be around much longer.
“That’s not broccoli, is it? I’m throwing it out the window if it is.”
Ivy rolls her eyes and finishes the recipe. She’s no gourmet cook, but she’s trying her best to change his diet. She always takes care of herself by eating plenty of fruits and vegetables. Fred would never touch the salads she enjoys most nights. He’ll have to start coming home for dinner after his plumbing jobs now instead of going to the pub for his meals.
“It’s ready,” she says as she sets two hot plates of food on the table.
Fred comes to the worn wooden table and sits in his usual seat. The travel brochures for Santorini are on the table. He’s looking forward to getting away for a couple of weeks after he’s recovered.
Ivy sits opposite him, picks up her fork and digs in. Fred stares at his plate, his fork limp in his hand as he pushes the food around. “Is this another one of your heart attack specials?”
“It’s quite tasty. It’s from an old cookbook of Mum’s.”
“What’s it called.”
“Bacon Surprise.”
The bacon in the title gives Fred some hope. He sticks his fork into the overcooked cabbage and brings it to his mouth. He starts chewing and winces as the reality hits him.
“You look like Jimmy when I fed him pureed green beans when he was little. You’re a bit pudgier though. And hairier.”
“Piss off. You said there was bacon in this.”
“No, I said it’s called Bacon Surprise. Surprise, there’s no bacon.”
“Obviously not.” He takes another bite. “What’s this chewy stuff.”
“I substituted tofu for the bacon. Much healthier for you.”
Taking another bite, he imagines being the chef on the telly biting into the burger, but it’s too pungent. “It smells like month-old boiled eggs.”
“Oh, stop being such a fifty-year-old baby. You’ve been doing well with your eating the past few weeks.”
“This isn’t eating. It’s torture. I just want a burger again.”
“Well, you’ve gotten yourself into this mess with your lifetime of burgers and chips.” She throws the travel brochure in front of him. “Keep it up and I’ll be cashing in on the life insurance. I’ll buy a new bikini and have a fabulous time by myself picking up a young buck in Santorini.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be going to Santorini with you. And, you’re not buying a bloody bikini so all the blokes can stare at you.”
“I love it when you’re jealous.”
“I might buy myself a new thong for the beach though.”
“You’ll scare all the children, love. And the adults.”
“Ha ha.”
“I’ll try a veggie burger recipe tomorrow.”
“Those aren’t the same.”
Fred’s halfway through his meal as he puts his fork on the table and scoots his chair back. “I love you for cooking for me. I’ll finish this later.”
She knows he won’t. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going a bit stir-crazy locked up in this flat. I’m feeling better so I think I’ll pop down to the pub.”
“Maybe that will put you in a better mood. Can I trust you?”
“You can trust me, love. I’ll only have half a pint. The doctor said it’s fine. I’m sure Jono will be around.”
“I don’t trust either one of you,” she says as she opens a brochure. “Remember your phone. I’ll shop for bikinis while you’re gone.”
All the regulars greet Fred as he walks into the crowded pub. He pauses and takes a deep breath of the fried beef, chips, and beer as he scans the room. Jono is sitting at the bar and waves Fred over.
“Fred, great to see you,” Jono says as he stands and hugs him.
“Glad to see you too, and good to be back,” Fred says as he sits on the stool beside him. The sound of the pool balls cracking and the glasses clinking puts him in a better mood. Jono motions at the barman holding up two fingers.
“I’ve missed ya mate. I would’ve stopped by but I know Ivy’s not fond of me. How you doing?”
“Okay, but it still feels like a bus hit my chest. Ivy’s taken a couple of weeks off work to care for me.”
“Scary stuff. I hope I can avoid having one of those heart attacks. Are you sure you should be here?”
“I need a break. I think we’re on each other’s nerves. I’ve had nothing but vegetables and chicken the past week. What I wouldn’t give for a greasy burger. I hope you’ve eaten. I don’t need any temptations.”
The barman sits a plate loaded with three beef sliders and chips in front of Jono, along with two beers. “How are you, Fred? Can I get you anything to eat? I suppose you don’t want your usual?”
Fred gazes at the sliders. “Tempting, but I better not, Bill.”
“Maybe we’ll put a salad on the menu for ya,” the barman chuckles as he moves on to another customer.
Fred rolls his eyes and takes another sip of beer. His smartphone vibrates so he takes it out of his pocket. A photo of Ivy by a beach is his wallpaper. She’s texted him to check if he’s okay but he ignores it and places the phone on the bar.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming or I would have ordered these before you got here,” Jono says. He picks up a slider and shoves most of it in his mouth, grinning.
“Bastard,” Fred says as he takes a drink. “Oh, that’s lovely. Haven’t had a beer in ages.”
“Hops are good for your heart,” Jono says as he finishes the slider. He pushes the plate toward Fred. “What about chips? Those are a vegetable.”
“I can’t even have those unless they’re baked.”
“Definitely not the same,” Jono says putting another chip in his mouth.
“Ivy’s got us some tickets to Santorini. Be great to get away from The Motherland for a while.”
“I went there a couple of years ago. Exquisite scenery on the beach there, if you know what I mean. Your ticker might not be able to take it. There’ll be plenty for Ivy to look at too.”
“Don’t rile me up.”
“Just taking the piss mate. I need a wazz. Be right back,” says Jono as he stands and walks to the toilet.
“Right-o.”
The sliders and chips are in full view now. The burger on the cooking show keeps replaying in his head. He reaches for the plate and slides it next to him. Bending over, he inhales the beefy vapours.
“You okay, Fred?” says the barman.
“Leave me be. I’m having a moment.”
The barman smirks and moves along. Fred pushes the plate away and takes another sip of beer. He tries to stop at half a glass but fails. The beer is going straight to his head and the temptation is too overpowering. He slides the plate over again and reaches for a slider. It’s still warm and he brings it to his mouth.
Ivy’s face appears again as his phone vibrates and her text appears. “I’m worried about you, love. Please answer!”
He pauses and remembers their fantastic times together over the years. Raising a child and seeing him off to University, weekends away travelling around England. Even nights in the flat when they cuddle up on the sofa and watch a movie. All the meals she’s been cooking for him lately have been his idea of hell, but he wants to have many more memories with her.
He places the burger back on the plate, slides it over, picks up his phone, and replies. “All good my dear. Dreaming of Santorini with you.”
Jono walks back and sits down beside him again. “You alright, mate?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
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