David Cummings

You know how much I hate them.

Why not strawberries?

Something sweeter.

Less bitter.

Strawberries can be bitter, too.

Not like your blueberries.

He chuckled, seemingly pleased with his own comment.

However, it must have occurred to him how rude he sounded, because he quickly added...

Of course I'll eat anything that you make, dear.

I raised a gloved hand, still dirty from my work, and stroked his cheek.

"'Aren't you a gentleman?'

I was aware that Howard hated blueberries the day I bought the seeds at the store.

My gardening habit had been taken up a short time after the ordeal with Janet, and I must admit that my husband's best interest was not in my heart.

Although I had forgiven him, there was still a deep urge within me to punish him somehow.

I don't believe that I thought much about the act,'

My hand had simply grabbed the bag and placed it in the cart.

It was instinct.

What was not instinct was my choice to always pick the berries early.

I suppose, much like the fruit, I was still a bit bitter.

Let me grab the basket for you.