Chapter 4 #2
“The family does, last I knew,” Nan suggested, slowly searching through her memories.
“I can’t remember how that one all played out, but I do remember him having a fit over any gossip that could potentially kill his business.
They used to have a deli on the side of the pub.
However, they got into trouble with the food inspector or something.
They were always selling out-of-date stuff, so it was a mess.
It became a community joke, and Old Man Burgon was fit to be tied over it.
He had a really ugly reputation for a while.
Maybe things improved when the restaurant replaced the deli, but I’m not sure I believe that either. ”
“You really don’t like them much, do you?”
“It’s not even about liking them or not, but, when you realize that Old Man Burgon ran a sloppy business, it’s not a good look.”
“Maybe not,” Doreen noted, thinking it over. “Yet, if the family is putting their heart and soul into the place, … it’s hard to see it go downhill over some rumors.”
“Maybe so. I can’t say anything either way,” Nan muttered. “All I can tell you is, at that time, Old Man Burgon was fit to be tied over it all, but he didn’t garner any sympathy. He was well known for cheating people.”
Doreen nodded. “That’ll cause bad feelings everywhere.”
“Absolutely, and he was just a difficult person. He always seemed cranky and miserable, generally not someone you would want to do business with.”
“Which then begs the question as to how the business managed to survive.”
“His booze was cheap, at least in the restaurant, but you had to order food while you were there.”
“Which is also normal,” she pointed out. “That’s how restaurants make money. Sell the food at a bargain price, then make it up on the booze or vice versa.”
“Sure, but people didn’t want the food, or, if they did, they didn’t want to buy that much of it.”
Doreen didn’t say anything and just let her grandmother vent.
When Nan was done, she muttered, “Okay, now I’m really tired.”
“That was a lot of venting, and, from the sounds of it, you’ve obviously been upset about this for a long time.”
“I didn’t realize how these little injustices really piss me off,” Nan admitted, with a chuckle. “I’m sorry. I must have sounded as if I’d completely lost it.”
“Not at all,” Doreen lied. “On the other hand, … Old Man Burgon is gone.”
“He is,” she agreed, “so maybe the family can recover businesswise.”
“He’s been gone for quite a while, so if they’re still in business, I presume they might have recovered, or at least held their own. They’ve either changed their systems or their people.”
“I have no idea how they’re doing,” Nan stated. “It was quite the business at one time. Nowadays, I just don’t know.”
“Good enough,” Doreen said. “I’ll dig some more and see what I can come up with.”
“You do that. You’re always so good at the digging part.”
“I haven’t really found very much this time, at least not yet.”
“It’s early,” Nan declared in a bright, bolstering tone. “You will. I’m sure of it.” And, with that, she added, “As for me, I’ll go have an afternoon nap.”
“Is it already afternoon?”
“It sure is. That’s why you got your Chinese food early, remember? So now you can sit down and enjoy it.”
That reminder just made Doreen feel bad as she stared down at the free Chinese food.
With Nan off the phone, she warmed up a plate, realizing that Mr. Woo had also given her enough for several people.
She hadn’t even noticed it when she’d stormed out of the restaurant.
And she shouldn’t be upset at him since he was just trying to say, Thank you, but it felt like charity, something she didn’t want.
There was a time when she was more than happy to accept it, and that’s because she was darn hungry back then.
She wasn’t as hungry now, and she wanted to pay her way, which Mr. Woo didn’t seem to want her to do.
Nevertheless, she enjoyed her lunch, finding it delicious as always.
Then, with the animals in tow, they all headed down the river just to clear Doreen’s head a little bit.
It was beautiful outside but too cold to enjoy it for long.
By the time she made it back home, Mack was pulling into her driveway.
She walked to the front door and opened it, Mugs racing outside to give Mack the usual joyous welcome.
He laughed, bent down, and cuddled Mugs for a minute.
“I don’t know,” she began. “I swear, he’s happier to see you than me.”
“Nope. He just knows that I’m a friend.” And, with that, he came inside, packing some groceries.
“Are you cooking tonight?” she asked.
“I went shopping and realized that you probably were out of a few things by now,” he shared, “so I picked them up. And, if we’re cooking this week, I figured I could pick up a meal or two, and we could learn to cook as we went along.”
“That sounds good to me,” she said, as she trailed behind him, wondering what the bags contained.
There was a certain amount of joy every time he went shopping, partly because she never really understood what to do with half of the groceries that she saw in the stores.
They didn’t look the same as the dishes she’d been accustomed to seeing on her plate when she had first moved here.
So it always gave her pause to realize she wouldn’t have a lot of the dishes she had been used to.
Then, all of a sudden, Mack would come by with groceries, and soon there would be a dish that she almost recognized, which would make her smile, exactly as Mack had intended.
As he unpacked the groceries, she watched. “Were you planning on cooking tonight?”
“No, I wasn’t planning on anything,” he admitted, with a smile, as his gaze landed on the Chinese take-out containers. “Seems to be a good thing, considering you picked up take-out.” He looked over at her.
“Now you’re just pissing me off too.”
He frowned at her. “You want to explain that?”
She raised both hands in a huff and explained the problem.
“Ah, so he wants to say, Thank you.”
“That, plus I don’t necessarily feel like taking charity anymore. … I am helping people, so it’s not as if I’m asking for handouts.”
“Right,” he said, leaving it at that, while she kept talking.
“But it feels like charity.”
He smiled at her and asked, “In what way?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t want him to feel that he has to do it.”
“Did it feel as if he had to?”
“No,” she wailed, raising her hands in frustration. “Never mind. Apparently … I’m not making sense.”
“You’re making perfect sense, but I think sometimes you have to give other people a chance to say, Thank you, in whatever way that they know how.” She frowned at him, and he nodded. “Just think about it. What is it that he does?” He smiled at her.
Doreen sighed. “He makes Chinese food.”
“So, it’s his business. It’s his restaurant. You helped him. Heck, you saved him, both his business and his life. He just wants to do something for you, and this is what he knows to do. His food is what he is proud of, and he wants to thank you with some.”
“I suppose,” she grumbled.
He laughed. “You suppose?”
“That makes sense. I just don’t want him to feel obligated.”
“I think he probably does feel obligated to some degree—or at least grateful. And grateful is something you should manage to deal with.”
“I can manage just fine,” she snapped. “I just don’t want him to feel as if he has to do it for me.”
“You told him that, and he acknowledged it and has done what he’s done anyway,” Mack pointed out. “So, you now get to acknowledge him and your feelings and move on.”
“But I want to still have Chinese food,” she cried out, facing him. “And I’ll feel terrible if I go in there and he does it again.”
He smiled. “I’ll go with you next time, and we’ll see what he says, but you have to give people a chance to thank you. It’s just being gracious. Of all the things you know, that is something I’m surprised you don’t have down already.”
“Knowing is one thing, but having it directed your way is a completely different thing,” she muttered.
“And why would you assume I would know? Just because I know all about being a hostess and being gracious?” she asked, raising her hands in frustration yet again.
“Apparently I’ve forgotten way more than I ever remembered. ”
He chuckled. “I won’t argue against that at all,” he noted, “because I happen to like you just as you are.”
She glared over at him. Then her shoulders sagged. “Thank you.”
“I mean it. I’m not just saying that.”
“I know,” she murmured, as she walked closer, and he opened his arms. She stepped into him for a hug and added, “He just kind of … set me off.”
“And that’s fine. You’re entitled to feel what you feel, but you also need to understand how he feels. If he wants to do this, you let him do it.”
“Great,” she muttered, “as long as I’m not sixty-five, and he’s still trying to give me free food.”
Mack burst out laughing. “Hey, if that’s the case, I won’t argue the point because I happen to love his Chinese food.”
“I know. Me too,” she admitted, “which is also why I don’t want him to feel as if I was taking advantage of him.”
Mack groaned, resting his chin on top of her head. “There’s a big difference between his trying to thank you with food and your feeling as if you’re trying to take advantage. It’s not the same thing.”
“There was a point in time that I was hungry enough to do it,” she admitted, looking away from his piercing gaze. “And just knowing that I came that close makes me want to pay double sometimes.”
His arms tightened around her, and he added, “No, that’s not how life works.
We all get those thoughts sometimes, and we all have things in our heads that we wish we didn’t have, things we would like to feel differently about,” he shared.
“Yet you can’t hold that against him. He is just trying to be him. ”
“I know. I know,” she muttered.
He burst out laughing. “And yet it’s still so hard for you.”
She shrugged. “It is hard.”
“Did you talk to my brother at all today?” he asked, as he stepped back, walked over to the Chinese food, and lifted the lid. When he looked over at her, she motioned at him.
“Eat,” she prompted him.
“I didn’t have anything for lunch, and I didn’t know if you’d eaten already,” he explained. “So I figured that, worst-case scenario, we could just make omelets.”
“Your omelets aren’t the just make an omelet kind,” she clarified, as she sat down beside him and watched as he served up a big plate of the Chinese food. “Your omelets are a whole meal.”
“Are you sure you don’t want some of this saved for tomorrow?”
“No, I’m fine,” she replied, smiling at him. “It does me good to see you eat.”
He nodded, eyeing her. “Now you know how I feel.”
She winced and then nodded. “Okay, fine,” she muttered, “point taken.”
“And, no doubt, that’s also how Mr. Woo feels.”
She groaned. “Got it.”
He burst out laughing and told her, “Not sure you do quite yet, but we have hope.”
She sighed, “I’m really not that stubborn.”
“Uh-huh …”
“I’m not,” she declared, glaring at him.
“No, of course not.” And he picked up his fork and started to eat.