Battle at the Breakfast Table

I smirked slowly as I stepped dangerously closer to her. I could feel her shaky breath on my face. But she stood her ground, her shoulders still squared and her chin up, defying me. I cocked my head to the side, admiring her bravado, but she had no right to challenge me in my own house.

Her silence spoke volumes. She was attracted to me. I could feel her searching her mind for something to say, something to get me to back off. She twisted the fabric of the dress she was wearing, a dress she had no business wearing.

Everything she was, she had no business with. She had no business with my wife's face.

"Did I hit a nerve? Are you attracted to me? I am old enough to be your father."

"Grace loves you." She said, slow and controlled, but I still caught the tremor in her breath. "You do not want her to see that you care because you think caring makes you weak."

"The last time I cared about someone, she ripped my heart apart. No fault of hers, but it broke me. You think I will give anyone that power over me again."

"Grace already has that power over you; you just refuse to acknowledge it."

"You are getting on my nerves." I growled out.

"Why then haven't you kicked me out? Why are you helping me? You do not know me. You do not owe me anything, and yet you give me a house and a bed to sleep in. You give me a job."

"I'm beginning to think I made a colossal mistake." I turned away from her. In trying to intimidate her, I was reacting to her in the worst way I could think of. "You are still here because Clara would skin me alive if I kicked you out."

"I don't think a man of your standing, intimidating like you are and I am guessing powerful, is afraid of a woman in her seventies."

I bit my tongue and wiped my face. "You need to focus on getting better. And then you can get out of my hair." I ended the conversation and walked by her into my bedroom.

I knew she was going to be a problem.

*****

I was sipping on my coffee and reading the financial section of the newspaper when I heard the sounds of heels clicking towards the direction of the kitchen. The perfume hit my nostrils, and I could tell who it was before I even saw her.

Nancy.

This week is cursed. I didn't bother looking up from my newspaper when she sauntered into the kitchen like she owned my house. Ever since her sister died, she was holding on to hope she would take her sister's place.

"Victor, sweetie," she called, moving to the coffee machine and pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Good morning."

I took another sip of coffee. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood. I thought to stop by to see Grace… and you."She turned to me, her red lips curving in a smile, her eyes seductively undressing me under her long lashes.

"I haven't seen you in a bit. You look great," she noted and moved to sit down beside me, feigning an accidental brush of my thigh beneath the kitchen table.

"I would like to enjoy my breakfast in peace and quiet."

"I think you enjoy my company much more than you let on."

I gave a derisive snort. "You're delusional."

Before she could think of an embarrassingly sultry thing to say, the soft patter of feet running down the stairs interrupted us.

"Good morning, sir," Isla greeted as she led Grace to sit beside me at the table. "Morning, ma'am,"

"Good morning, Daddy," Grace said happily.

"Morning, darling." I turned to Isla. "Isn't it too early for her to be headed for school?"

"She isn't headed for school. I prepared her earlier so she could have breakfast with her father."

We are on this again?!

I turned back to my newspaper but felt that Nancy was as still and quiet as a board. Her fingers curled around her coffee in a death grip, and I knew she saw it too. A younger version of her sister, her only competition when she was alive and even in death.

Isla moved around the kitchen, oblivious to the death stare in her direction. I was going to watch this play out; maybe Nancy would be the one to put Isla in her place. This I was going to hang around to watch.

"Who is this?" Nancy asked, but I didn't answer. Isla turned to put a plate in front of Grace.

"I'm Isla,"

"She's my new nanny," Grace chipped in. "Her name is pretty, isn't it? Aunt Nancy."

"So, Victor, you hired a nanny that looks like your late wife?"

"Is that a question or an observation? Because I don't see the resemblance." I lied.

Isla moved to sit beside Grace and to feed her.

"Grace, didn't you have something to ask Daddy?"

I know I should have left.

"Daddy? Could you come to my school's art thing?" Grace looked at me with her cute eyes.

"Uh… uh…"

"I can come." Nancy chipped in.

"I'm sorry, but she wants her dad there." Isla asserted.

"How dare you?" Nancy growled, getting up from her seat. "Who in the hell do you think you are?"

"Nancy?" I called.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense; it's just that I thought you might understand why Grace needs her father there and not you." Isla tried to explain.

"You are here to babysit Grace! Keep your opinions to yourself!"

"Nancy, you will not raise your voice in front of my daughter." I said, still not looking up from my coffee.

"But…"

"Ever." I shot her a terrifying look, shutting her down instantly.

I turned to my daughter. "I won't be able to make it to your art thing." I saw her face fall, and my heart squeezed at the sight. Maybe Isla was right. "But uh…" I cleared my throat dramatically. "How about I drop you off at school myself today?"

Her face lit up in a smile, and it seemed my heart lit up alongside it. What was happening to me?