Family Feud. Fiction by Navraj Sandhar

Family Feud

The soft sizzle of buttered bread on the pan filled the kitchen with a comforting scent. David, standing in a worn apron, expertly flipped a slice of French toast as Megan, still rubbing sleep from her eyes, entered the room, drawn in by the enticing smell. She reached for the coffee pot with her gaze fixed on David.

“Good morning. Why are you up so early?”

“Morning! Just cooking some breakfast,”

The sizzling continued, Megan arched an eyebrow, “You woke up just to make breakfast, what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing special. I wanted to make breakfast for you and Jane. I thought you deserved to sleep in and wake up to your favorite.”

The golden hue of morning sunlight painted the kitchen in warmth. David worked at the stove; the lazy Sunday morning smell of French toast wafted through a shared space. Today though, the atmosphere was different.

“Okay… thanks. You’re being weirdly nice today. What do you want?” Megan’s skepticism filled the room like a subtle challenge.

“Can’t I just do something nice for my family without being accused of having ulterior motives? Maybe you just need to learn appreciate to things,” David said, his tone laced with defensiveness.

“Forget I said anything. The French toast looks good. It’s nice to take a break for once. Thanks, sweetie.”

The fragility of the moment persisted as David served the French toast, his eyes piercing Megan with a disconcerting stare. The clink of utensils on plates echoed in the quiet unease of the room.

“So… where’s Carl?” David asks.

Megan sighed, a weariness in her voice. “Probably still sleeping.”

“Of course he is. Have you gotten around to telling him to leave?”

David’s question overshadowed breakfast. Megan hesitated, torn between a past she couldn’t forget and a present that demanded resolution.

“Ugh David, why do you hate him so much?”

The warmth of the kitchen seemed to diminish as Megan posed the question, inviting a storm of suppressed emotions. David’s response tinged with impatience.

“He needs to stop leaching off us and get a job. It’s weird you let your ex live with us.”

Megan’s defenses rose, they’ve had this conversation before, but regardless of how many times she agrees with David, she still feels the need to defend Carl.

“I can’t just kick him out on the street, he’s not in a good place right now. Plus, he’s still the father of my child, I need to let Jane see her dad.”

“You gotta do it eventually, you’re not setting a good example for her, letting the man control your life like this.”

Megan’s fingers hesitated, tracing the edge of her coffee mug as she stole glances at the framed photographs lining the walls. David’s eyes met hers, a silent question hanging between them. With a sigh, she poured herself a cup of coffee, the sizzle of French toast emboldened the drawn-out silence.

“I guess you’re right, but not right now, it’s too cruel. We gotta let him get back on his feet.”

The constraints of the current job market left Carl with few options, not for a lack of trying though.

A fragile peace settled over the kitchen, overshadowed by the simmering conflict that lays beneath the surface. Breakfast continued, but the tension lingered like a bitter aftertaste.

“Fine, but it better not take too long.”

Megan, now seated at the table, pondered about her situation. David’s disapproving stare cut through her thoughts, reopening wounds she had hoped to heal. The silence roared, broken only by the rhythmic clinking of cutlery against plates.

Megan took the dishes and walked to the kitchen to begin making lunch for Jane. The familiar routine offered a momentary escape.

“Sometimes on Sundays, Carl would make this really nice French toast. You should get his recipe,” Megan said.

“I thought I told you to drop it.”

David’s frustration boiled to the surface, Megan’s constant mentions of Carl is a persistent thorn in their relationship.

“What do you mean?” Megan asks.

“You know exactly what I mean. You’re just trying to get a rise out of me.”

“You bring this up every few weeks, David. If there’s a new problem, you need to spit it out.”

David’s frustration bubbled over, the ongoing tension demanding acknowledgment. “I told you what the problem is. It’s Carl. He’s an annoying freeloader!”

The accusation hung in the air, a stark contrast to the aroma of breakfast that lingered. Megan, caught between loyalties, struggled to find a middle ground.

“Why does he always make you so mad?”

The question, posed by Megan, opened a Pandora’s box of unresolved resentment. David’s response was laden with a mixture of jealousy and genuine concern.

“Because I want him out. This is our house. You guys got divorced years ago, and yet you still let him live here. It’s not like he’s been a good father to your daughter; he probably can’t even remember her birthday.”

Jane was slightly taken aback by David’s outburst. Despite having this argument over and over again, he’d never mentioned his relationship with Jane until now.

“At least he tries, that’s more than I can say about my dad. He’s there when she needs him. If I ask him to leave, I’ll just be taking Jane’s father away from her.”

“I’m not asking you to take him away from her; I’m asking you to make him live his own life. Why can’t you just do that? Do you still have feelings for him?”

It was clear to David that Megan had a reluctance to sever the ties that bound them. Their shared history, both a comfort and a burden, lay between them like an unspoken contract.

“Oh my god, of course not.”

“Then why are you always standing up for him? Is there something you want to tell me?”

Megan, now exasperated, insisted on her innocence.

“I don’t have anything I need to tell you. Calm down, you’re overreacting. I’m doing this for Jane, and only for Jane.”

Megan glanced down, her fingers still playing with the napkin on the table, her eyes softened as she reached out and gently touched David’s hand. David’s body tensed, his eyes narrowing with intensity as he pulled his hand away.

“Oh please, we both know you feel bad for him. How is Jane gonna turn out with a crappy father figure like him?”

“David, come on. He’s done a good job at fathering Jane… he loves her. She’s your daughter now too, and you barely even act like it.”

David, tired of being compared to a man he deemed unworthy, struggled to find common ground.

“You need to stop comparing me to that freeloading scumbag. I care for Jane more than he ever could.”

“If you truly cared, you wouldn’t be begging me to destroy her father’s life.”

David’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as he pushed back abruptly, his fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening as he leaned forward.

“Destroy his life? He destroyed his own life! I’m tired of you defending him all the time; I’m tired of you treating him better than you treat me. If you love him so much, why don’t you go back to him?”

“God David, I love you. Stop being so childish. You’re jealous of him, is that it?”

Megan’s breath was caught in her throat, she nervously twisted the wedding ring on her finger, catching David’s attention. Megan was blinking rapidly trying to hold back tears, then broke eye-contact and looked away. Her arms hugging her own body as if seeking protection and her shoulders tensing as she turned to face David as he paced back and forth around the kitchen, rubbing his hands against his face in frustration.

“Jesus, do you really think I’m gonna be jealous of that guy?”

“So why do you keep bringing it up?”

“…I just want him out.”

“You’re being annoying, just repeating yourself. Let’s just relax for a little,” Megan said.

“No.”

“No?”

The cycle of accusation and defense continued, the room growing colder with every exchanged word.

“Do I smell French toast?” Jane asks as she enters the kitchen.

“Sure is, sweetheart. David made breakfast for us,” Megan replied, attempting to inject normalcy into a strained moment.

“Yay! Let me go wake up daddy; he’s gonna be so excited. We love French toast.”The innocence of Jane’s excitement momentarily softened the tension, a reminder of the simple joys that family life could offer.

“Eat up and get dressed; you’re gonna be late for school,” David added.

“But dad usually drives me to school.”

“Your father’s busy, hun. I’ll drop you off before work,” David suggested.

“Okay.”

As David and Jane prepared to leave, Megan, with a forced smile, handed David Jane’s lunch and kissed him on the cheek.

“Have a good day.”

(Word Count: 1515)

This story is about David’s desire to confront his wife Megan about her ex-husband Carl living with them, leading to a heated argument exposing deep-seated resentment and insecurities in their relationship, with Megan and Carl’s daughter Jane unwittingly caught in the middle.

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Navraj Sandhar is a fourth-year Journalism and Creative Writing student at Trent University in Ontario, Canada. This story was written as part of the coursework for Advanced Seminar in Creative Writing. As an emerging journalist, I am passionate about weaving words and shedding light on underreported stories. I strive to evoke empathy, provoke thought, and capture the essence of the human experience with vivid imagery and evocative language.