Page 55 of Bully Wolf's Nanny
“It’s absolutely fine,” Amelia smiled, “and I mean it. My door is always open. No matter what.”
***
That evening, the girls had eaten their dinner with limited fuss, much to Daisy's delight. If there was any day she could use their cooperation, it was definitely today.
“That was delicious, Mommy,” announced Thea, bouncing slightly in her seat, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, “can I go out and play with the others now? We’re building a fort in the woods!”
“Will Felix be there?”
“Yeah! He’s going to teach us how to make a rope-swing!”
“Then yes you may, after you finish your dessert.”
“Can’t she go now?” Francesca asked as she waltzed into the kitchen, heading straight for the wine cooler.
Daisy’s teeth shut with a sharp click.
“No, that’s okay,” Thea said, her gaze cautious as she looked between them. “I’d like dessert, please.”
Daisy smiled at her daughter, who offered her a nervous one back. Thea was never at ease when Francesca was around. She was always pointing out how muddy Thea was, how messy, how noisy. Daisy tried her best to keep them separate, but it was just another reason why she needed to get out of the house. She refused to let Thea grow up around a woman who would constantly tear her down.
“Fine,” Francesca said, as if it were her place to dictate what Thea could and couldn’t do.
Not for the first time, Daisy’s wolf growled at the affront to her child.
“I made cobbler,” said Daisy, fetching two bowls. “Gracie’s just having the fruit puree I made to go into it. She’s still too small for—"
“Whatever,” Francesca waved her hand and sipped on her chardonnay, although her eyes tracked Daisy’s movements like a hawk. Daisy swallowed under the scrutiny, not missing the slight twitch upwards of Francesca’s mouth as she got the cobbler and fruit puree out of the fridge.
It was as if the previous evening had never happened. By the time Daisy got back from seeing Amelia, Francesca was floating about the house in one of her designer dresses, issuing orders to the gardeners like some queen on a throne. She barely acknowledged Daisy’s presence except for a slight narrowing of her eyes, and Daisy was grateful. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened. She certainly didn’t expect any kind of apology.
“Here you go,” Daisy placed the bowl of cobbler in front of Thea and ruffled her hair, before sitting down by Gracie’s highchair to feed her spoonfuls of the homemade puree. Gracie banged her hands against the tray in delight, opening her mouth wide enough that Daisy could see the baby teeth just starting to peek through the gums.
“Family recipe, is it?” Francesca asked lightly, and Daisy turned to her in surprise.
“No, not really. Just something I’ve been making since I was younger. It’s lovely by itself, or to go into cobblers or on top of ice cream or—"
“Yes, yes,” Francesca snapped, “I’m sure it’s delicious.”
“I…I can get you some if you’d like?” Daisy asked hesitantly, feeding Gracie another spoonful.
Francesca rolled her eyes. “Do I look like I eat cobbler?”
“No,” Daisy said, blushing and looking away.
Gracie was making a funny face, scrunching her little nose, her arms waving about.
“Say, what’s in the recipe?” Francesca asked, examining her nails.
“Um, well anything can go into it, raspberries, blueberries…”
Gracie let out a shrieking wail, her face turning red. Daisy reared back, her mind going blank with shock. Gracie heaved, vomit coating her front, her eyes watering. She gasped in a few breaths before wailing again, the sound thick and constricted.
“Gracie!” Francesca cried, racing towards her daughter, shoving Daisy out the way. “Strawberries! You put strawberries in the puree!”
Daisy’s mind went blank, her throat closing up.
No. No she hadn’t, she wouldn’t! Gracie was allergic to strawberries! If there were strawberries in the puree, that would mean…
