Disclaimer: Don't own. A/N: Trying to do Annie Proulx's style of dialogue. Don't know if it worked. Not edited.
Apple Cobbler
He wasn't a newcomer to Alma's apple cobbler, he just didn't like it. Every time she'd make her homemade dessert, Ennis sought to find an excuse, find a way to get out of eating that cobbler that she worked so hard on, that cobbler his two little girls always looked forward to. Alma only baked it once or twice a month.
It wasn't as though he thought his wife's apple cobbler to be the nastiest taste in the whole goddamn world; Ennis would just rather eat a can of cold beans—with Jack, his fishing buddy.
"Alma," said Ennis, "Jack and me is goin fishin today." As if that was a valid excuse.
Alma's lips, at the mention of Jack Twist's name, became a tight, thin line; her eyes narrowed in the dim light of their apartment. Ennis never noticed, of course, never noticed the anger and confusion in her silence.
"So I can't eat it," he continued. "Got a start packin." He would then get up from the table, walk to their room, and would indeed start packing just as promised, leaving Alma to sigh inaudibly and to stare at the scratched-up tabletop. "Maybe you can pack a slice," he called from their room. "For Jack. Goin a be a long drive from here."
"Sure enough," Alma would reply. There was nothing else to say. Plop a piece on a plate, wrap it with foil. Jack Twist could choke on her cold cobbler for all she cared. Yet, she did care.
Jack Twist was ruining her. "Fuckin up our life," she'd mutter to herself, her arms folded across her chest.
The creel case Ennis always brought with him on his trips jangled, reminding Alma that Ennis chose Jack over her. What was wrong with her husband?
"Bye, girls," Ennis said fondly, kissing his two girls before he left. This was the time when Alma saw him the happiest, when he was leaving the three of them. Take the plate, leave.
Alma had long stopped asking Ennis to bring home some fish. Sighing, Alma looked out the window as Ennis excitedly got in the pickup truck, couldn't get to his fishing buddy any faster.
What was wrong with her cobbler?