Jillian Chantal

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt, leg. I’m still at the BBQ in my story.

Check out the other tales here.

“Thanks.” I finished eating the rib as Del left to fetch reinforcements. I glanced over to where Levi sat with another group. He was staring off into space and the muscle in his jaw was working as if he was gritting his teeth. I felt sorry for him. Here he was trying to have a wonderful Saturday evening with friends and Annette had ruined it just like she ruined his date with Susanne last night. He probably was ruing the day he ever took Annette out even once. I surprised myself by the depth of my feeling bad for him. This was definitely a change from my younger days. Not that I ever would have been unkind about him suffering any heartache. More likely, I wouldn’t have believed it possible. But he did look angry as well as sad at the same time.

Del came back with a few more ribs on a plate and set them between us. “Help yourself.”

I took one more, planning to eat it after the piece of chicken I already had on my plate. It looked good too. Just the right amount of sear as well as a bit of char on the sauce. Yes, this John guy was truly gifted with barbecue skills.

A blob of sauce landed on the leg of my jeans when I picked up the chicken leg to bite into it. “Great,” I muttered.

The girl on the other side of Del said, “At least it wasn’t on that white shirt.” She put her hand out across Del’s plate. “I’m Valerie, by the way.”

I shook her hand. “Heather.”

“Hey, didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to reach across the table?”

“If you’d been polite, you’d have introduced me to Heather when you asked her to come sit with us, bucko.”

Just as it was dawning on me that they might be a couple, Valerie winked at me. “Besides, we have the same mother.”

“That’s beside the point.” Del helped himself to another rib.

I laughed. “And here I was thinking you two were dating.”

At the same time Del said, “God forbid,” Valerie said, “John might have something to say about that.”

“Ahh so one of you is lucky enough to be dating the brilliant barbecue artist.” I looked from one to the other trying to determine which one.

“It’s worse than that, I’m afraid,” Del said.

“Good God, Del, you’re going to make her think we’re some weird, incest obsessed threesome.” Valerie shook her head. “He’s such a jerk sometimes trying to get a reaction from people. He and John are married. He likes to tell people that’s a fate worse than jail.”