"But it's my mother's," Kate said.
"I understand, sweetie, but I bought you more expensive ones for a reason," he explained. "You can wear that anywhere else, but not when I'm meeting with high-profile individuals, okay?"
"Okay," she replied with a lowered hand.
I could feel Olivia's rage as she sat next to me. I placed my hand on hers and shook my head negatively. She pulled her hand away forcefully and continued eating with anger.
I understood her anger. But that was the kind of man my father was. If any of his children messed up, no matter how tiny it was, that child was sure of beatings in front of an essential guest of his friend.
Mother was no help either, and most times, I would prefer father's beatings to mother.
She would leave the child in a tiny room with mirrors for us to sit and reflect.
Imagine staring at yourself for over an hour. Doesn't sound too bad? I don't know, and it was hell.
"Hmmm… there's something odd about this breakfast, don't you think so, Lucas?" he asked.
I stared at the omelet and toast that I had been eating. True, it was different, but it didn't taste bad. In fact, I liked it more than I was used to.
"It does taste different," I admitted as I took another bite. "Is there a problem?"
"I just wonder why it doesn't taste the same," he replied.
"I made it," Kate announced, a bright smile on her face. "It's been a while since I tried cooking, so I thought I would actually get back to it. It's nowhere near Olivia's level, though, and she also had to help me."
Oh, how sweet.
I started to wonder how Olivia's cooking would be.
"The cook allowed you and a guest to cook?" Father frowned.
"Wait, no," Kate shook her head negatively.
Olivia put down her fork.
Oh boy.
"That seems to be the issue. Why else would you be handling the preparation of a meal? I need to have him fired," Father said.
Kate's eyes widened with horror. Her good intentions had robbed someone of their income. I hated what he was doing. If the chef was fired, it would only cause issues amongst the staff.
Kate had it tough. She was the new mistress, and the father's children were either not fond of her or indifferent toward her. If the staff hated her, then my emotionally dense father would be all that she would have.
Olivia was hardworking, so she'd focus on work and would move out soon, myself included.
"She made it because it's one of the many primary duties of a wife," I said as I cut a piece of the omelet. "It doesn't taste terrible, does it? So why not appreciate your fiancé’s intentions."
Father paused and looked at the meal. "I understand. Maybe you should tell me the next time you intend to cook."
"If she ever cooks again, that is," Olivia muttered under her breath as she ate the rest of her meal.
She was right. Kate didn't look like she planned on cooking for my father again anytime soon.
Now came the hard part.
****
Olivia refused to look at me as we drove down to the office.