PJ Swift

Watermelon

Like all people who towered over them, the kids treated her as an adult.  Yet, she felt very young, maybe self-conscious that the kids did not immediately address her by first name and was not quite sure where she fit in as a new young girlfriend of one of the grad students.  Like the other adults at the picnic, she was at the counter preparing food.  Here you go kids: watermelon! What could be more exciting on a hot day?  But a soft glow of guilt transformed her face.  Even the kids could see her pink color, markedly.  Just as distinct as the flavor.  Tastes like onion, doesn't it?  She asked as if afraid to hear the answer.  The kids spit out their bites and tossed their slices.   I guess I should have cleaned that knife. She smiled benignly at the boys who were already racing away.  She looked on, her guilt tormenting her further, thinking, I am never going to make it at this adult thing.