“There’s no need,” Katherine said, scrubbing soap across with the pan with a brush.

Abigail moved to her side, tugging at her apron, a sad look in her eyes as if she was going to cry.

“What?” Katherine said, turning toward with hands on hips.

Abgail stomped her foot and glared at her in a most adorable way. She signed, “You know what!” Then pointed at the table and puffed her cheeks out.

Katherine couldn’t say no to those big eyes of hers, a miniature version of their mother’s. She gave a wave of her hand. “Fine, I’ll eat with you.”

Her sister also slapped one hand against the other palm, looking from Katherine to her father, then signed, “Give thanks with us, too!”

“Okay, okay. I will,” Katherine said, taking off her apron and hanging it up. She cleared her throat and sat, Abgail hopping back in her own seat, beaming.

Katherine glared at her father’s upturned palm. She let out a sigh, rolling her eyes, then took his hand.

Katherine turned and grabbed Abigail’s hand as well, not caring that her father was smiling in a way as if he had won some prize.

“What are we thankful for, little one?” Richard said, eyeing Abigail.
“Hmm,” Abigail grunted as she flexed her hand in Katherine’s and motioned to her father with her chin.

“Ah, I see,” he said, leaning back slightly with a wry smile.

“What?” Katherine said, not sure what he meant, and getting a little upset at not being in on the joke, or whatever this was.

“She wants you to give thanks, Katherine.”

“What?” Katherine noticed Abgail nodding, and so she dropped her jaw. “Why?”

Abigail let out a little growl

“Okay, fine,” Katherine said, giving one of those silly smiles that was a mixture of playfulness and anger. “We’re thankful for… this delicious breakfast made by me.” She felt good saying that last part, accomplished. After letting it linger for another mom moment, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to add any more.

“I’m thankful for the pancakes,” Richard said with a twinkle in his eye. “And delicious syrup I can lather on them.”

“Mm-Hmm.” Abigail lifted her hands and clapped them above her head.

Then both Richard and Abigail rubbed their hands together vigorously as they eyed the delicious food.

“Let’s eat!” Richard said, and Abgail’s big saucers of eyes looked as if she agreed with that sentiment.

The two of them snatched up some pancakes, bacon, and sausage, lathering them in sweet syrup. While Richard had taken some eggs, Abigail did not.

Katherine shoveled some onto Abigail’s plate. “Have some eggs too.”

Abigail frowned and glared, a little growl coming from her throat.

“What, are you an animal?” Katherine said. “Use your words.” She couldn’t help it as she narrowed her eyes. While she felt partly like Abigail’s guardian, felt responsible for her, she still had that little pang that wanted to tease her like an older sister often did. She’d made fun of her a little, so what? Plus, Abigail needed some eggs in her diet.

“Hey, now,” Richard said, giving Katherine a warning glare which had no impact on her. Not like her mother’s glare had been able to do.

“Just eat some eggs, all right. You need to protein.”

Abgail simply shook her head and lifted a sausage, pointing her index finger at it as if to say, this is protein.

“Abigail,” Katherine said in much too similar a tone to her mother’s, knocking her fist against the table lightly.

Abgail took a bite of eggs and chomped down begrudgingly, smiling at Katherine with the food in her mouth, signing, “Happy?”

“I am,” Katherine said, shoveling some eggs and slices of avocado on her plate as well as two sausages.

Abgail looked at the avocado with glassy eyes, her chin resting on the edge of the table.

“What?” Katherine said, taking a bite of one. “You want avocado now? You never want avocado.”

Abigail nodded vigorously, kicking her legs and slamming her fists that held utensils against the table.

“Fine,” Katherine said through gritted teeth, as she couldn’t help but give into Abigail. “One slice.”

She poked a piece with her fork and dropped it onto Abgail’s plate. Abigail sucked the slice up like a vacuum cleaner, chomping down, swallowing, and beaming.

She watched Katherine much like a cat might look at someone while perched up high.

“No,” Katherine said in a way as if scolding a cat. Abigail persisted. “I said no.” She wasn’t going to say it again.

Abigail pouted, but eventually went away at gobbling her own food, because when a kid is hungry, they eat.

There was a moment where Abigail was eating with such mindlessness that she didn’t even realize that a drool of syrup was getting dangerously close to plopping on her pajamas. Katherine let out a little tsk noise and leaned over to Abgail to wipe the side of her mouth with a napkin.

Abigail jerked back and showed her teeth.

“You’ve got syrup on your—” she said, grasping at her arm and jerking her forward. “You just have to—”

It plopped against her pajamas and thus was too late. Katherine sat back with a frustrated grunt. “Fine, get your pajamas sticky for all I care.” She’d had enough of these shenanigans.

When they were done eating, Abigail patted her stomach, thanked Katherine with a big smile and hug, and shuffled out of the kitchen and down the hallway to her bedroom.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth,” Katherine called after her, standing from the chair with hands on hips much like their mother might have.

Richard couldn’t help but laugh, one of his arms bent at the elbow, letting his cheek rest against his palm.

“What?” she said, turning to him with a raised butter knife.

“Nothing,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “Abigail may look like your mother, but you are just like her with that stubborn nature and intense look. It’s endearing.”

Endearing? Katherine scrunched up her nose as she let a long silence pass, not knowing what to say as she couldn’t let him in. Couldn’t let his little comments melt her like the butter they had used on the pancakes. Instead, she thought about cutting him with the dull butter knife.

“Whatever,” she said, turning back to cleaning the table, gathering the dishes up, and placing them in the dishwasher. As she wiped down the table, she noticed him looking like he wanted something.

“About that talk?” he said, ponderous look on his face.

She turned to the sink and rinsed out the rag in warm water, ringing it out. “What about it?” She wiped the countertops with her back turned to him.

“I just wanted to let you know that I –”

“Sorry Richard,” she said, hanging the rag over the faucet and wiping her hands off on her apron before removing it and placing it back on its appropriate hanger. “I don’t want to be late for the first day of school. “See you.” It felt weird, but she certainly wasn’t going to talk about what he wanted to talk about. He had plenty of time and moments in the past to do that. The chances were gone.

And so was she, leaving Richard sitting there with one elbow on table, an intent and concerned look in his eye. He spoke, even though no one was there to hear it. Then again perhaps Masako was listening and watching from somewhere.

“Good luck, Katherine.”

Even if they hadn’t gotten along since Masako had passed over seven years ago, it was okay. Katherine had to grieve in her own way. Even if it took time, he’d always be there for her. Even if she rebuked him, shut him down, glared at him, hated him, he would be there for her. Part of him understood what she was going through, but part of him didn’t know anything, a whole universe of things in her mind, her mood, her attitude, her person.

She wished Masako was here, as she was much better at dealing with their daughters. They were girls, after all, one teenager and one soon to be a teenager, so he had no clue how to handle that.

There was one thing, though. One thing he knew to be true. And while he knew she knew, he couldn’t just let her know that their mother was killed by something she had claimed to have seen seven years ago. But what could he do? State the truth and be ridiculed? Or have his own daughters taken from him because of his insanity and insistence on stating that a werewolf from fantasy movies and novels had killed his wife? He couldn’t. But still, maybe he should acknowledge it to his daughter, to talk to her about it. To have a truthful discussion and let her know that while society and culture and others may not understand, that he understood. Even if they had to keep it a secret, he would gladly keep it with her, discuss it with her, and process it with her. Even if she fell apart, got scared, didn’t know what to do with it, he’d be there for her.

Yet, why? Why, indeed. He knew why. He smiled bitterly.

He had become like a character in a story, keeping the truth from his own daughter out of fear, to protect her. Perhaps he did it to salvage the memory of his lovely wife as she never wanted her children to know that truth, but it was a heavy burden to keep as a single father, especially knowing that his daughter, in a sense, disdained him, which was evidenced by her behavior toward him, or lack of any engagement besides being angry and resentful toward him. Still, he understood and forgave her. And, most important, he gave his word to his wonderful wife to not divulge that detail. Part of him wanted to, so very badly, felt that it was wrong to keep it from his daughter, but it was even worse breaking his word to his wife, even if she was gone now. That was something sacred, like asking for her hand in marriage, and committing to be with her through thick and thin, and in health and sickness.

Luckily, though, Abgail hadn’t followed suit, so he was thankful for that at least, even if that daughter hadn’t spoken in years, she had at least seemingly moved on from all that madness. As perky as ever, except for little moments, outbursts, incidents, but that was manageable, right?

He let out a sigh, wondering what Masako would think about this outcome. One daughter disdained him, shut him out. The other hadn’t spoken a word since the incident of losing their beloved mother.

Great job he was doing. Would Masako change her mind and tell him to tell them? No… she didn’t want them to know. Not ever. Still. He would stay strong for them, be there for them, whenever they needed. He smiled, knowing he could at least do that. And that was good enough for now.

Abigial returned to the kitchen with a mischievous smile on her face as she opened the fridge. She sneakily snatched a sausage link, wrapped it in a paper towel, and zapped it in the microwave for about 15 seconds, watching it like a puppy awaiting its meal for the evening. When it dinged, she quickly pulled it out, blew on it a few times to cool it down, then popped it in her mouth, chowing down. She noticed her father still sitting at the kitchen table, leaning against his propped-up arm in contemplation, totally in his own world.

She slid over to him and touched his arm, which made him jump as she wasn’t sure if he was sleeping or just zoning out. She knew he worked hard, had been through a lot, and did so much for them, so she was gentle in her smile and nodded as she peered up at him. She made a sign with her hands, asking if he was okay.

“Yeah, I’m just thinking,” he said, lifting his glasses and wiping his eyes.

She stared at him for a moment, then gave him a big hug and pat on the back. She signed with her hands. Everything will be okay, papa.

He beamed, patting her on the head, and she flashed a smile. Looking at his watch, he let out a sigh. “Time to get going.” He grabbed his bag and things for the day, then stopped and turned and admired Abigail one last time. “See you, kiddo.” She really was a great kid.

She nodded and bobbed her way back to her bedroom, her little and low twin hair bunches bouncing along with her steps.

He always admired the fortitude with which his little one lived, thinking perhaps his older one could learn a thing or two from her. Then again, the eldest often had a heavy burden just being the eldest, and Richard knew all about burdens. He stopped at the door, his hand hovering on the doorknob.

Something rubbed against his leg, and he peered down to see the family cat zigzagging between his legs, pushing its body against him.

“What about you, Cupid? What are you going to do for the day?” Cupid, a mangy orange cat, tilted his head up and meowed as it continued to rub its body against Richard’s leg. “Hungry, huh? I suppose I can give you something extra before I go.”

He grabbed a container of Greenies and scattered four about. “There you go.”

Abigail had noticed Cupid at a local pet store and wouldn’t take no for an answer when she begged them to take the little guy in. Abigail thought it would be wonderful to take Cupid into their home so he could spread love, just like Cupid did, and maybe they’d all get along better without mama. How could Richard say no to that? It was another thing that upset Katherine, but he just had to give into the adorable little Abigail.

After putting a little extra food in Cupid’s bowl and refilling his water, Richard glanced at his watch that he rarely took off, just like his wedding ring, both symbols of his vow to his deceased wife, the latter given to him as a gift on their third anniversary. A fancy leather band watch with a gray face. A beautiful thing that paled in comparison to the way his wife smiled. He remembered the way her hair smelt, like being out on the beach and in the sun, and her soft and warm skin, and… he stared down at his watch and cleared his throat, doing his best to keep it together. Even after all this time, it still hurt. Also, he was late!

“Yikes, I gotta get going.” He was quickly taken out of his reverie at the realization that he needed to be at his little corner café to make sure things were going smoothly as he had let his staff know he’d be a little late this morning being the first day of school for his daughters.

He was determined to make the café corner coffee shop deal work as it was a dream of his wife’s, and while they had started it together, he had continued to dream on his own, in remembrance of Masako. That’s why he had called it Masako’s, in her memory.

He gathered up his things and moved to the door while calling out, “have a good day and lock up before you leave,” to his girls before he slipped out and hustled his way to the café.