Chapter 3The Last Strawberry

I broke my own rule and slept in. Outside my room, it was pure chaos.

Mark woke up late and was rushing to get to work.

"Mom, where did you put my white dress shirt? I need it for a meeting today. Did you iron it?"

"I didn't wash it."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

Mark was dumbfounded.

Arthur followed me around as I got out of bed, rushing me.

"Fine, you didn't do the laundry. But my son is about to leave for work. Hurry up and make some noodles so he can eat before he goes. I'm supposed to meet Old Man Lee to go fishing."

I simply pulled the covers over my head. "I don't feel well. Make it yourselves."

There was silence outside the covers for a few seconds, followed by a cold scoff from Arthur.

"If you won't cook, we'll eat out! I refuse to believe the earth stops turning without you. If you've got the guts, don't ever cook again! The whole family will just pay to eat at restaurants. Let's see how many days you can keep this up."

I thought to myself, I'll keep it up for six days. By then, whether you want to cook or not, you'll have to.

After they both left, I got out of bed and went to find my old friend, Mary.

She was lucky. Her husband died early, and her neighborhood got bought out by developers twice. She was living a fantastic life now, going out to line dance in the park every single day.

Hearing that I was going abroad, she dragged me to a high-end department store.

"You're going abroad, you have to buy some nice clothes! Look at what you're wearing, it's washed until it's practically transparent. I've seen you wear these clothes for ten years."

The full-length mirror next to us reflected the awkwardness at my temples and the frayed white edges of my cuffs. It gave me a moment of daze.

Thirty-five years ago, I was a young girl who loved dressing up, too.

When we got married, Arthur said he would let me be a young girl for the rest of my life.

But the ravages of time meant that in the blink of an eye, I had become an old woman.

Mary picked out quite a few things for me, saying she wanted to gift them to me.

I politely declined again and again. I was used to being frugal, so I only picked one item. Even that one piece was fifty dollars, and it made me feel a little panicky.

But then I thought about how the fishing rods Arthur left collecting dust at home cost way more than this piece of clothing.

Thinking like that, I added one more item, bringing the total to a lucky hundred dollars, and bought them.

When I got home, Mark hadn't finished work yet, but Arthur was home early. He leaned awkwardly on the sofa, giving me side-eye.

My gaze quickly passed over him and landed on a plastic produce bag on the coffee table.

Seeing me notice it, Arthur arrogantly lifted his chin.

"Four dollars a pound, you really know how to cause trouble for me! Hurry up and eat them, then go make dinner!"

The bag was open, revealing a dozen shriveled, sad-looking strawberries. They looked like the bad fruit that hadn't sold for days.

They weren't washed. Arthur obviously didn't plan on eating bad fruit like this. He bought them for me.

It had always been like this. The money-making husband ate the best, the kids ate the best, and whatever was left over or spoiling was for me.

Back then, times were tough for everyone. Being a little deprived didn't feel like a big deal.

But now, Arthur gets a pension every month, and the kids are grown.

I didn't want to eat them anymore.

Right in front of Arthur, I threw the bag of strawberries into the trash can.

Before he could explode, I beat him to the punch.

"They're rotten. Unedible."

Then, taking advantage of his shock, I turned and walked into the kitchen.

Before I came home, my daughter-in-law called and said her father was coming over tonight. He was a guest, after all. I couldn't let people go hungry.