Brussels Sprouts

‘Andy’, she said quietly, peeping her head round his door.
‘Yeah, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, nothing. I just brought you a slice of strawberry cheesecake, I know you like it and I’ve not bought it for a while’, she said smiling, holding out the wedge of red ooze.
He could feel his face get warm and he turned his back to her to climb off the bed, hoping she wouldn’t notice.
‘Thanks’, he smiled. It was Andy’s favourite.
She passed him the cake and watched as the boy settled back on his bed, spearing the fork into the mush and watching as the cream explored its way around the bowl.
He looked up at her and spoke through mouthfuls of sticky dessert, ‘Wos wrong?’
‘Nothing dear, why do you keep asking’, she said puzzled but still amused at the obvious enjoyment of his treat.
‘I’ll leave you to it’ she said softly and the door clicked closed behind her.

Andy liked the texture of cheesecake the best, the runny top with whole strawberries, the creamy middle that stuck to the roof of his mouth and the crunchy biscuit that tasted like broken up digestives.
‘Andrew!’
He froze on his bed.
‘Andrew come here!’ she snapped from downstairs.
He leapt from his bed, taking the stairs two at a time while holding onto the thick wooden banister to steady himself. He sped through the hall and hurtled into the kitchen.
‘Andrew, what’s this?’
She held a scrunched up piece of soggy kitchen roll containing four squashed brussels sprouts.
He looked up at her and she jabbed the offending objects towards him, ‘Well?’
‘I dunno mum’ was the reply.
‘Andrew…’ she began but she didn’t seem to want to finish the sentence.
The boy curled his fingers round the sides of his t-shirt.
‘I dunno mum’ he said again, quietly, unsure of where his denial would get him.
‘I found them next to the plant pots behind the shed.’
‘Mum I really don’t know.’
She sighed and dumped them unceremoniously on the kitchen worktop.
‘Your gran made them especially’, she said and the boy thought his mum looked a bit sad.
‘I know and I don’t know why. Can’t she bring cake or sweets or if she’s gonna bring dinner stuff can’t it be sausages or mash or something nice. Mum, who brings brussel sprouts round for dinner?’ Immediately he felt a slightly ashamed for saying it but it didn’t change the fact it was true.
She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again.
‘I just want you to try them. Fruit and veg are really very important for little boys and I think if you gave them a chance you’d start to quite like them.’
‘But they look like brains mum. I don’t want to eat brains.’
At these words her lip curled and she breathed out a measured, slow breath.
‘Well, no, I suppose few of us do.’
Andy smiled tentatively.
‘I ate one mum, I did. But it was horrible and mushy and it made me think of brains, not just how it looks but the taste as well, when I bited into it it sloshed around my mouth and it was cold and I swallowed it anyway. And I ate the carrots mum, I ate them and I don’t like carrots that much but they’re better than brains and I ate my sweetcorn because I like sweetcorn can’t I just have sweetcorn instead of the brains mum is that okay?’
There was a pause.
‘I see you’ve thought about this’, she said as she leaned back against the worktop.
Andy looked hopeful now, ‘Well it’s just if I have to eat this stuff, can’t I just eat other nicer ones instead?’
‘I’d still like you to give them another try’ she said smiling at him.
Andy looked down at the floor and shifted his feet when his mother bent down to tie one of his grubby shoelaces.

As Andy loped slowly back to the stairs he passed the bathroom and glanced in. He gazed at the toilet for a moment and slowly began to smile to himself, suddenly he wasn’t dreading his next dinner with gran so much. With that he bounded back to his room to finish off his cheesecake.