He Peeled Apples for Another Woman

Synopsis

At the annual company party, Brian Foster was called up on stage to peel an apple. He waved his hands with a smile. "I can't. I don't know how to do it." The host shoved a fruit knife into his hand. He tried three times, but ended up butchering the apple. The peel was in pieces, and the fruit was all gouged and messy. The audience burst into laughter. Brian scratched his head and returned to his seat, leaning over to smile at me. "It's all hacked‑up." I didn't respond. For ten years at home, every night he'd hand me an apple with the peel always a single, unbroken spiral. I stared at his still-smiling face, my throat tightening. There was no way a guy who'd been peeling apples for ten years didn't know how. Unless he was just pretending. Maybe he didn't want someone to find out the truth that he was good at it.