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‘You’re allowed to go back up and get more, you know,’ Helen said as she glanced at Owen’s plate. It hosted an assortment of pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs jostled alongside slices of fruit and thick wedges of toast.

Owen shrugged and picked up a knife and fork, shifting some excess food onto a spare plate alongside him. ‘Thought it was best to get a bit of everything.’

‘So I see,’ Helen shook her head slightly, then looked at the small bowl of bircher muesli, yoghurt, and fruit in front of her. Maybe she should have ordered a custom-made omelette. But her appetite had seemed to vanish once they had been shown to their table.

‘I’m starving,’ said Owen as he loaded up his fork with an assortment of food. ‘Never eat this late, even on the weekend. I might still have room for waffles after this. Or a bagel.’

There was relative silence as they ate, the surrounding space busy with people moving back and forth around the buffet, which was located in three different serving areas. Waiting staff moved swiftly to clear tables and offered special blends of tea or coffee, or exotic sounding juice blends. Owen cheerfully ordered a frappé and a long black, and not for the first time, Helen wondered where he actually stored all the food he was capable of eating.

‘Don’t you like it?’

Helen looked up, then down at the bowl, which she’d barely touched. ‘It’s okay. Maybe I should have been more adventurous, like you.’ She glanced at Owen’s plate, surprised to see he’d eaten everything on it. He gave her a grin and pushed his chair back.

‘Can I get something else for you? Why don’t you try something hot? There’s French toast. You used to love that.’

Helen smiled, but it didn’t make it all the way to her eyes. ‘Sure. A slice with a bit of maple syrup would be great.’

She watched as Owen made his way to the nearest buffet, chatting easily with another couple who seemed to be debating over what delicacy to have next. Whatever he said to them had them laughing, and Helen couldn’t help but smile too. Owen had an easy way of being that she tended to overlook.

Then he was back with two plates. He placed one down in front of her before heading to his seat. Helen looked down, surprised to see the toast had been made in the shape of a heart. There was an artistic swirl of maple syrup and a curl of crispy bacon on the side.

‘Did you do this?’

Owen grinned, a wedge of waffle poised on his fork. ‘Sure did. Thought it might remind you of those breakfasts in the Flower Pot café.’

And it did. It reminded Helen of a time when life seemed simpler, when she and Owen could talk for hours on end.

‘Happy anniversary, love,’ said Owen, raising a glass.

‘Happy anniversary.’

This piece was written to a prompt on the Writer’s Digest website. Brunch: set your story at an extravagant brunch.

Photo: delicious pastries from patisserie in Wentworth Falls, Blue Mountains