Page 37 of Five Years
Kathy was making a mimosa, as she did every morning. She only offered others a drink when she ran out of her expensive Champagne and needed to dip into Grace’s stash—who didn’teven like Champagne, but still resented contributing to Kathy’s indulgence. Steven had just returned from an early morning round of golf and was now doting on Kathy in a cringe-worthy “cute voice.” Leah caught Grace making a dramatic barfing gesture at the sink.
Leah actually felt sorry for Steven. He had no idea Kathy merely tolerated him. It showed in everything she did—in the way she recoiled when he kissed her cheek, cringed at his compliments, and smiled with tight-lipped indifference. Grace, Ariana, and Ryan had all tried to get through to him over the years, separately and together, but it made no difference.
Ariana stood at the fridge, nudging Grace aside with a gentle bump as she gathered ingredients: a pack of bacon, a tray of eggs, and fresh bagels.
“Good morning, sweetie,” Grace greeted Leah, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. “How did you sleep?”
“Okay, I think.” Leah rubbed at her eyes, adjusting to the household chaos.
Ariana glanced over and gave a quick smile—it looked forced. Ryan had begun yelling at the twins, who were mid-Froot Loop throwing contest.
“Want some breakfast? Ari’s making bacon and egg bagels.”
“I...” Leah began, but Ariana cut her off.
“She doesn’t like eggs.”
Grace laughed. “Oh, right—your fake allergy.”
“I never said I was allergic,” Leah muttered, rolling her eyes.
Ariana stayed quiet.
“You say you’re allergic all the time,” Grace chuckled.
“Because it’s easier than explaining why I don’t like them.”
“You don’t like eggs?” Steven turned, bewildered. “Not even poached?”
“Nope.”
“Scrambled?”
“Nope.”
“Fried?”
“Dad,” Ariana snapped, “she doesn’t like eggs. That meansalleggs, regardless of how they’re cooked.”
“Maybe you should try boiled. In a salad or something?”
“They’re theworstkind!” Grace laughed.
“Dad, she doesn’t want eggs, and she doesn’t need you giving dietary advice. Your food pyramid is just meat and potatoes.” Ariana dodged a pop of sizzling oil as the bacon cooked.
“Someone’s cranky this morning,” Steven teased.
Grace chuckled, her buttering hand jiggling with the movement.
“I’ll have Leah’s eggs,” Kathy offered casually, turning around.
Ariana scowled.
“Have all the eggs you want. I’m just not cooking them for you,” she said lightly—but meant every word.
“Ari, that’s not very nice, is it?” Steven frowned. “The least you could do is make eggs for your favourite stepmom.”
Grace audibly gulped. She and Leah glanced at Steven, then at Kathy, then at Ariana—whose face was turning red. Grace gently placed a hand on Ariana’s arm.
