Chapter 4 Have You Never Liked Anyone?

Emma dragged her exhausted self into the shop. Florence, who was dozing off inside, quickly went to meet her. "What's wrong, Emmie? You look really worn out."

Emma waved her hand, indicating that she was fine. Florence knew her friend's temperament. If there was something she didn't want to talk about, no matter how much you pressured her, you wouldn't get an answer. But if she wanted to speak, you didn't need to ask, you would know.

It was obvious that this afternoon was not calm. Emma had broken three plates, two spoons, and a vase. Apart from another boy in the back kitchen, there were only the two of them in the shop. The girls looked at the mess on the floor, and Florence spoke first, "Darling, you should be thankful that Mrs. Lew isn't here. We still have a chance to make amends."

Emma looked at her blankly, "How can we make amends?"

Florence glared at her with frustration, indicating for her to wait there, and went to the back kitchen herself.

Only Emma remained, staring at the mess on the floor in distress. By this time, Florence had already come out and saw Emma still standing there blankly. "Emmie?"

Emma looked up at her, "How did you come out so quickly?"

Florence knew her friend was not very bright, but she didn't expect her to be this dense. "I went to talk to Jeff, asking him not to tell Mrs. Lew that we broke the plates and the vase. We can go to the second-hand market and buy some replacements. These are all old things that have been used for a long time, we can pass them off as real, and Mrs. Lew won't notice."

Emma hadn't thought of this solution, "Is this really feasible?"

"What's not feasible about it? Mrs. Lew isn't someone who splurges." She said this in a somewhat tactful way. Florence originally wanted to say that Mrs. Lew was always stingy, and treated guests the same way, but Emma didn't like to talk behind people's backs. Hearing that would likely upset her, so she changed her wording.

"But, how did you convince Jeff?"

Jeff was the meticulous boy in the back kitchen, responsible for everything related to cooking. He usually reported even the smallest things, like a missing meat patty, to Mrs. Lew. Emma wasn't sure he could keep quiet about something as big as breaking plates.

Florence shrugged indifferently, "I promised to go see a movie with him this weekend."

Emma admired her sacrifice. So, it was a sacrifice of charm.

"Do you like him?"

Florence thought carefully for a moment, "He's very cute, a boy who's not good at teasing, it feels like he would blush even at holding hands. I think he's very cute."

"So, do you like him?"

The word "like" seemed a bit heavy, "I like it when someone wants to please me."

Emma sighed, as expected.

"You seem absent-minded today, what's wrong?" Florence didn't intend to continue discussing Jeff. "Is your mom okay?"

A cloud of worry covered Emma's face, "Not at all. She's become very frail. I held her to bathe, and I dared not put her in the bathtub. I was afraid she would break. She's lighter than the potted plant at the door. What should I do, Florrie? I'm afraid I'll lose her at any moment."

Florence sympathetically patted her shoulder, who could understand the pain of losing loved ones more than her?

"Don't be sad. Think optimistically, though it may sound harsh to you, leaving might not necessarily be a bad thing for your aunt. Is she taking any medicine?"

"She refuses to. She says taking medicine makes her feel like her body isn't her own."

Florence had a lot of experience caring for the sick, "Then don't force her. Nothing makes a patient feel more comfortable and respected than going along with their wishes."

Emma hesitated as she looked at her, "But not taking the medicine will make her body..." She didn't finish the word "worse." She knew her mother's condition wouldn't get worse than it already was.

Florence gripped her shoulder even harder, "Stop deceiving yourself, Emmie. We all know it's not like that. She's in a critical condition, so the doctors have advised you to get some basic painkillers, just to alleviate her pain, not to cure her. Emmie, you have to accept this."

Emma pressed her temples, "I understand what you mean. It's just... for so many years, I've never told her that I love her. And when we finally realized that we could get along well, I find that I don't have time."

Florence said softly, "You need toleave this environment."

She also wanted to, Emma sighed, "I can't, Florrie. I have to be with her. Besides that, I have no other needs. I just want to make her as comfortable as I can within my capabilities."

"This isn't for you to decide, Emmie. What are you going to do with your life after your mother is gone?"

Emma didn't answer, "I don't know."

She wasn't of legal age yet, unable to live independently. Maybe, as her mother suggested, she would have to go and live with her father, but she didn't want that.

"Have you considered finding a partner?" Florence winked at her. Emma was taken aback, then lowered her head. This wasn't realistic for her.

"It's not possible, Florrie. I have too much to consider, bills, and my mother. Would anyone unconditionally accept all of that? I want pure love, even though I know it's impossible."

"Forget about all that," Florence said in a low voice. "Just imagine, if your destined partner appeared, and he didn't care about your bills or your stressful life, he just wanted you. He could overlook everything happening to you, would you want to be with him?"

It sounded like a fairy tale, with no end in sight.

Emma laughed, "But how could that be possible?"

Who could love someone without considering gains and losses?

Florence seemed to find it impractical, pouting, "Don't you have someone in your own fantasies, someone you'd want to rely on? Have you never liked anyone?"

Emma thought, Have I never liked anyone? A memory suddenly rushed into her mind. Little girls always fantasize about their heroes. She was no exception. She didn't like going to school partly because of her childhood bullying, she couldn't separate the two.

She was maliciously stared at every day in school, and after school, a group of kids would corner her in the garden and take turns throwing stones at her, because everyone knew she was a fatherless wild child.

That was when her hero appeared.