The Troubles of Angy

Chapter 5

“Good morning, everyone,” Ella greeted tiredly, punctuating her words with a long yawn as she trudged down to the family dining table to take her seat.

“Good morning, Ella,” Angy muttered, while Carl and Emily chorused their greetings.

“You look tired. And your hair is not exactly the best view to see in the morning,” Alex pointed out, scrunching up his nose.

“Deal with it,” Ella deadpanned, then turned to her mom, who was cooking in the open kitchen adjacent to the dining area. Seeing her mom cooking in the morning was truly a sight, especially with Angy helping her out. Ella blinked in confusion. “What is going on? Why is Mom in the kitchen? And she’s cooking?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “What is that supposed to mean, Ella? I can decide to cook for my family anytime I feel like it,” she retorted, pointing the spatula she was holding in Ella’s direction.

“You didn’t have to rope Angy into it, Mom,” Alex interjected, his gaze fixed on Angy as she cooked.

“I didn’t have to force her. She decided to help, unlike you both,” Emily retorted, glancing playfully at her children, to which Alex simply shrugged.

“Dad, are we safe?” Ella turned to her father, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she sought to tease her mom.

“I don’t know, honey,” Carl replied, lowering the newspaper he was holding to look at Ella. “I have no idea why your mom suddenly decided to cook after two months,” he added, emphasizing the length of time.

“I think you both will like the idea of skipping breakfast. I’m sure you have an ‘idea’ where the cereals are,” Emily remarked, though she didn’t take her eyes off her cooking.

Carl chuckled. “My bad. Sorry, ma’am,” he said, saluting his wife with a smirk.

Emily huffed. “Ella come put these on the table.”

"Carl," Emily made a subtle gesture to her husband.

Carl nodded, understanding her silent cue without the need for words. He cleared his throat and reached out, holding his wife’s hand in one and Ella’s in the other. He waited, observing as Angy placed her hand in Alex’s. With a gentle squeeze, he closed his eyes, and the rest of the family followed suit.

“Heavenly Father, we thank you for your blessings. We are grateful for your provisions and we say thank you. Thank you for this meal, Lord. We pray that it shall be to our nourishment and well-being. Let us always have cause to be forever grateful for your grace and goodness upon our lives, in Jesus' name. Amen.”

Opening his eyes, Carl released his wife and daughter’s hands, and the others followed suit. “How’ve you been, Alex?”

Alex paused, his fork hovering mid-air as he slowly turned his gaze to his dad, lips thinning awkwardly. “I’m surviving.”

“Surviving?” Carl cut a piece of bacon. “Is there something going on?”

Alex cleared his throat. “No, everything is fine. I just have a few things to sort out.”

Carl nodded. “What about you, Angy?”

All attention shifted to Angy, and she stilled, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over her. “Me?” she squeaked out.

“Yes, you. Are you okay? How have you been? Living here and all,” Carl inquired, setting aside his meal momentarily to focus on her.

Angy faced Carl awkwardly, wondering if he was aware of her struggles. She was surprised by his genuine concern for her well-being. “I’m fine. Thank you for letting me stay here once again.”