Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Ordinary Daily Life (2)
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30 minutes later, I got serious about cooking.
I set the pan over medium heat and let it warm up.
"Jake, be careful with the fire!"
"Got it, don't worry."
Once the pan was nice and hot, I added some cooking oil and tossed in the meat.
The bulgogi marinade hit the sizzling oil, filling the air with an irresistible sound.
Sizzle—
As the meat cooked, a sweet aroma spread through the entire kitchen.
The savory mix of soy sauce and sugar, with hints of nutty sesame oil and pungent garlic.
The smell of perfectly cooking bulgogi was always a knockout, no matter how many times you caught it.
"Whoa, it smells so good!"
"See? Told you."
Nancy sniffed the air eagerly.
I flipped the meat with a wooden spatula, and the sizzling intensified, wafting even more delicious scents.
The glossy brown sheen told me it was just about done.
"Almost ready."
I turned off the heat and placed a frying pan on another burner.
I melted a bit of butter in the slightly warmed pan and cracked an egg into it.
Sunny-side up, half-cooked yolk.
"Eggs too?"
"Yeah. Bulgogi rice bowls are even better when you burst the yolk. It turns into this amazing sauce."
"Whoa!"
While the edges of the egg firmed up, I scooped rice into a bowl.
Steam rose gently from the freshly cooked warm rice.
"Pile the bulgogi on top."
I heaped the sweet, fragrant bulgogi generously over the rice.
Then added the perfectly runny fried egg on top.
A sprinkle of sesame seeds over the glossy yolk to finish...
"Done!"
"Whoaaa!"
Nancy's eyes went wide.
"Jake, this looks so yummy!"
"Dig in."
I handed her a spoon.
Nancy scooped up a careful bite and popped it into her mouth.
"Mmm!"
Her face lit up like the sun.
She chewed slowly, eyes closed, savoring every bit.
"Good?"
"Yeah! Super good! Is this really Korean food?"
"The real deal."
"Do Koreans eat stuff like this every day?"
"Something like it, pretty often."
"I'm jealous! I wanna live in Korea!"
I couldn't help but laugh.
She must've meant it because Nancy started devouring it.
She hesitated a bit mixing the half-runny egg with the rice, but once she tried it, she polished it off no problem.
"This is the best ever! The yummiest in the world!"
"For real?"
"Totally! Way better than chicken nuggets!"
I ruffled her hair at that.
She scooped up another bite and said,
"Jake."
"Yeah?"
"Earlier... you said eating just chicken nuggets all the time makes you sick..."
Her voice got small.
"But Mom's always so busy and tired from work, she doesn't have time to cook."
"Yeah, Dorothy's got a lot on her plate."
"So I heat up chicken nuggets in the microwave by myself, and Mom always feels bad about it. She says she's sorry."
"Hmm... I see."
"Was she upset because she's worried I'll get sick? I'm fine, though..."
That explained her gloomy face at the store earlier—she'd been mulling this over.
It tugged at my heart, but I kept a straight face and looked at our little princess.
"Nancy."
"Yeah?"
"Dorothy's probably just upset she can't do more for her princess. Parents are like that—they wanna give you everything, do more, all of it."
"But Mom's the best in the world... She works late but always plays with me and reads me stories."
"Exactly. So let's cheer her on extra hard so she doesn't feel down. And from now on, I'll cook for us a lot. We'll eat yummy food, grow up healthy. Sound good?"
"Yeah! I'll grow up fast and cook for Mom too. So she doesn't get sick!"
"Deal. I'll teach you Korean food. Then when you're bigger, you cook for us."
"Heehee, thanks! But you have to let me cook for you too, Jake!"
Nancy cleaned her plate. Not a grain of rice left.
Watching her neatly stack the bowl and utensils all by herself—it was heartbreaking but also impressive.
'Gotta do this more often. Real food.'
Truth be told, this wasn't some rare sight here.
Poor kids in America lived like this most of the time.
Parents swamped with work, kids fending for themselves with frozen meals.
It was everyday life—but it shouldn't be.
"Nancy, you're such a good kid. Dorothy must be happy just looking at you."
"Mom's good too! Even when she's tired, she never yells at me. Always smiles."
"You love your mom a lot, huh?"
"Yeah! She's my favorite in the world! Then you, Jake."
"Whoa, second place? I'm honored."
"So you and Grandpa Sam can't get sick either. I'll take good care of you."
"Alright, we'll look out for each other."
For this kid's smile alone, I hoped we could all be happy every day.
I meant it from the bottom of my heart as I grinned back at her.
After that hearty lunch, our little princess conked out for a nap.
In the meantime, I decided to check out the yard.
A small spot next to the trailer. Maybe 50 square feet?
Overgrown with weeds, but if I cleared it, it'd be usable.
'Perfect for a veggie garden.'
The potted plants earlier were a little gift for Nancy, but this time I wanted a real garden.
Lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, herbs—I'd prepped enough for that.
Once it all grew, the whole family could enjoy fresh veggies whenever.
"Let's do it."
I grabbed a hoe and shovel from the shed.
Rusty from disuse, but still workable.
First things first: till the soil.
Thwack!
But the moment the hoe hit the ground, it hit me.
This was gonna be tougher than I thought.
Texas soil is rock-hard.
A mix of clay and sand—it barely budged the shovel.
"Ugh..."
I put my back into it.
After 30 minutes of tilling, sweat was pouring down.
November, but Texas days are warm. About 70°F, or 21°C.
I ditched the jacket and kept going. An hour in, my back was soaked.
'This is harder than it looks.'
Not my usual muscles, so my back and arms ached.
But no quitting now—I pushed through.
"...Jake, whatcha doing?"
Nancy was up.
Her hair smooshed on one side. Adorable just-woke-up face.
"Making a garden."
"Garden?"
"Yeah. Like the pots earlier—gonna grow veggies here too."
"Whoa... this much?"
"Gotta be, so we all can eat."
Nancy came over, eyes full of wonder.
"I wanna help!"
"Yeah? Thanks. But it's tough. You sure?"
"Yeah! I'm strong!"
Nancy picked small rocks.
No way was I handing her a shovel or hoe—too dangerous.
"Be careful. No getting hurt."
"Okay!"
I flipped the soil while she gathered rocks.
She started like it was a fun game, scampering around.
But soon she plopped down, pooped out.
"Hoo... tiring."
"Told ya. C'mere, break time."
We sat in the shade with water.
"Gardening's too hard, Jake."
"Right? Looks easy, but nope."
"Farmers are amazing. They do this every day?"
"Yeah. On way bigger land."
"Whoa..."
Short break, then back at it.
Nancy helped hard too—digging dirt with tiny hands, picking stones.
"Toss this rock?"
"Yeah. Too many rocks, veggies won't grow."
"Got it!"
Another hour, and the 50-square-foot garden took shape.
"Almost done!"
"Really?"
"Yeah. Just a bit more!"
I leveled it out with a final push.
"Done!"
"Yay!"
Nancy clapped.
"Now what?"
"Fertilize and let it sit a few days. Then plant seedlings like before."
"What's fertilizer?"
"Gives the soil nutrients. Plants need food like we do."
"Oh, gotcha!"
I fetched the compost from the shed.
Bought it ages ago—finally putting it to use.
"This is it. Plug your nose, smells."
"Eww, stinky!"
I spread the compost and mixed it in.
"Now wait a few days."
"When plant veggies?"
"Three days?"
"Hmm... when do they grow?"
"About a month?"
"A month?"
Disappointed face.
"Lettuce grows fast—two weeks."
"Really? So salad from our garden in two weeks?"
"Yup!"
"Yay!"
Nancy cheered.
Evening rolled around, and Dorothy came home.
The front door creaked open.
"I'm back..."
She sounded utterly drained.
I stepped out—Dorothy was slumped on the steps, face exhausted.
"Rough day?"
"Yeah... today was..."
She trailed off.
"What happened?"
"One customer kept complaining. Food too slow, water lukewarm, fork dirty... griped for an hour, left a one-dollar tip."
"Jerks like that exist."
"Fine if it's one a day, but three today. One even yelled for the manager."
"You okay?"
"Yeah... used to it. Happens a lot."
Dorothy forced a smile.
But tears welled in her eyes.
"Dorothy."
"Yeah?"
"If it's too much, take a break. Don't push yourself."
"I want to. Wanna be with our little one, but no work means no money..."
Day-to-day survival for her—not an easy call.
I wasn't much different, so no room to talk.
Antiques gave some breathing room, but debts loomed and life was tight.
"Where's Nancy?"
"Outside playing. Wants to show you the garden."
"Garden?"
We went out, and Nancy ran up.
"Mom, look! Me and Jake made a garden! Veggies gonna grow here."
"Oh my..."
Dorothy was impressed.
"Jake did it all?"
"No, I helped! Picked rocks!"
"My girl's a pro farmer now."
"Yup, I'm a farmer!"
Dorothy circled the garden.
Seemed decent enough—she looked genuinely surprised.
"Jake, you worked too hard."
"Nah. Been thinking about it awhile. Sam's gonna love it."
"Yeah. Fun managing it together."
Dorothy hugged Nancy.
Then Nancy peered at her face closely.
"Mom, you cried?"
"Uh... no."
"Eyes are red."
"No, just dust..."
"Mom... it's okay. I'll hug you."
Nancy wrapped her arms around Dorothy's head like a little adult.
Dorothy finally let the tears flow.
"Sorry, Nancy. Mommy's weak."
"No, you're the strongest in the world."
"..."
"Mom, rest if you're tired. I hate you working for me."
"Nancy..."
"I'm big now. I do microwave alone, socks too. You don't work, I got it."
Our tough little princess comforting Dorothy.
Watching them, my eyes stung too.
"My girl... when'd you grow up..."
Dorothy squeezed her tight.
"Love you, my little one. Most in the world..."
"Love you too, Mom."
Right on cue, Sam got back from the hospital.
He burst out laughing at our makeshift garden.
"Not bad, but plenty of sloppy spots."
"Haha, yeah? Help when you got time."
"You bet. I'll tinker with it. Tomatoes are easy."
We four gathered around the garden.
Nancy said,
"Whole family's here!"
Family.
The word felt totally natural now.
Not blood-related, but ones we could trust and lean on.
The comfiest, warmest... real family.
That night in bed, I reflected.
Nothing special about the day, but I was truly happy.
Making bank on antiques was great, but these little moments meant more.
Maybe our family was like that wonky garden we made.
Small, rough around the edges, kinda shabby—but if we stuck together, it'd bear fruit someday.
Good days ahead if we held on.
I remembered Bill saying Victor was coming soon to see the dresser.
Hoping for another shot, I drifted off with a quiet wish.