A Roast on Sunday by Tammy Robinson

be great. Can you let her know that I’ll get the bill for the damage to the truck tomorrow, but we can discuss that over dinner. I’ll pick her up around seven. Tell her to wear something sexy.”
    That was it. Maggie went to stand up, outraged, but in her hurry she failed to back out far enough and smacked her head on the underside of the table as she got up.
    “Son of a bitch,” she swore, rubbing it.
    “Don’t swear,” said Dot.
    “ Maggie,” Jack said in fake surprise. “Excuse me,” he said, and leant forward over the table to peer down.
    “What are you looking for?” Maggie ask ed him irritably.
    “Just checking if there’s anyone else hiding down there.”
    “I wasn’t hiding , for your information. I was getting more soap.”
    He looked pointedly at her empty hands.
    “You interrupted me.”
    “Right. I was just telling your mother that I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow. For dinner. Wear something nice.”
    “I heard. And obviously I wasn’t clear enough this afternoon when I said not in a million years . So let me see if I can spell it out a little clearer. I’m not interested. You are annoying, rude and arrogant, and I wouldn’t date you if you were the only man left alive.”
    “ Phew,” Jack whistled through his teeth. “Say what you really think why don’t you. Don’t hold back out of any concern for my feelings.”
    “Feelings? I doubt you understand the meaning of the word. You insulted my parenting and my home today and that showed zero concern for my feelings.”
    “That was a misunderstanding, and if you crawled out of your own butt for a second and looked at it from my point of view you would appreciate the fact that I was only expressing my concern.”
    “ See that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Rude. You just proved my point one hundred percent.”
    He sighed and held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m sorry, again. Look, how about we start afresh. Pretend today never happened, and get to know each other properly.”
    “Like I said, I’m not interested. Besides, I think my husband might have something to say about it.”
    She heard Dot start to say something beside her and kicked out, connecting with an ankle again.
    “O uch. Will you please stop doing that?”
    Maggie ignored her and stared at Jack defiantly. He held her gaze longer than was polite, his eyes roaming over her face. She could see something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen from a man in a long time, and it both thrilled and terrified her.
    “My apologies,” he finally said. “I was led to believe you were single and available.”
    “You were given the wrong information. I’m married.” She tucked her hand behind her so he wouldn’t see the lack of a ring.
    “ My apologies again,” he said, but she could tell from the questioning tilt to his head that he knew she wasn’t telling him the entire story.
    “Oh great, it’s you.” Willow was back with the ice creams. She frowned at Jack. “What do you want?”
    “Willow, don’t be rude,” Maggie said, despite the fact that the statement made her a hypocrite. She took the strawberry cone that Willow passed her. Her daughter had lingered and detoured on her way back, and the ice cream had started to succumb to the heat that still shimmered in the air. Ribbons of melted ice cream were making their way down the sides of the cone and on to her hand. Without thinking she licked them off, and blushed when she saw Jack watching her.
    “What are you still doing here?” she snapped, embarrassed that her body had reacted without her control. “Go away, you’re blocking potential customers.”
    He turned and looked over his left shoulder, then his right. There was no one behind him. Making his point without a word, he turned back to her.
    “Fine,” he said. “I’ll leave you to it. Lovely to meet you Dot, and as always a pleasure to see you, Willow.” And with one last smile flicked at Maggie he left. Her eyes followed him