#FlashFictionMagic: Squash Soup

Four months into their relationship, Dave still couldn’t get enough of doing nice things for Fern. Today’s romantic gesture was squash soup. 

Fern used to make this every fall and bring several containers over for Dave and Grace. Truth be told, Dave didn’t like squash, and he usually gave the soup away, or served it to guests. But the image of Fern on the doorstep with something home-cooked and still-warm was a cherished memory. Dave wanted to honor that by making the soup for Fern, who did like it. 

Fern arrived around dinnertime. She peered into the pot. “Impressive.” 

Dave grinned. “It’s probably not as good as yours, but I wanted to try.” 

“I used to make so much of that for you guys,” Fern said. “It was all I could think to do with all that squash my mom gave me. I was always impressed that you could get Grace to eat it.”

Dave loved that she remembered and he grinned warmly. Falling in love with his best friend had been his best move of the last twenty years. But he should probably come clean. 

“To be honest,” he said gently, a bit sheepish. “Neither of us is a big fan of squash.” 

Fern looked at him for a second, and Dave briefly thought he had hurt her feelings until she burst out laughing and couldn’t seem to stop. 

“What?” Dave was amused by her amusement but otherwise bewildered. “What did I say?”

Fern gasped a few times, trying to gain her composure. Finally, she calmed down enough to say, “I don’t like squash either.”

Dave looked from Fern to the stove and back again. “You’re kidding,” he said, stepping in closer to her. 

Fern shook her head, still stifling giggles. “Nope.” 

Dave pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head. “Seriously?”  

She grinned up at him. “Completely. I guess even after all this time we still don’t know everything about each other.” 

“Not yet, at least,” said Dave. But he aimed to get there. Fern was his absolute favorite subject to study. 

“I could take the soup to work, and we could order pizza,” Fern suggested. 

Beautiful and brilliant, that was his Fern. He was so lucky. 

“Sold,” Dave said, already moving to turn off the stove.