Chapter 15
Mary arrived on campus late, a consequence of her own making. The excitement of her first afternoon in the archives had created a restless energy, keeping her awake past one a.m. She lost track of time as she sketched new outlines for her dissertation. This morning, the boys had been grouchy, their slow, grumbling start, taking the buffer of time she usually carved out for herself. She was desperately hoping tomorrow’s interviews would have good results in finding a helper.
By single-parent standards, her home was normal. The apartment lived in cultivated chaos. Mary was, however, perpetually hard on herself. A dish in the sink, a basket of unfinished laundry, toys scattered on the living room floor; each was a quiet reminder she did not do enough. She had been conditioned young: a clean home was a good home. A good home was a worthy one.
She rushed into the building, bypassing the canteen. Lunch later, she promised her growling stomach. Taking the stairs two at a time, she aimed for her desk: drop her belongings, grab her notes, and sprint to class. She had thirty minutes. Not her usual leisurely hour to eat, decompress from domestic life, and get her thoughts in order for the lecture ahead.
Tuesdays were now her lightest day. A single class, followed by lunch and then her scheduled block of archive time. When she’d received the revised schedule yesterday, she’d sagged with relief. The first draft had been brutal: teaching all day, then scrambling for just three hours of research. She would have made it work, but it would have been very difficult to balance. Now, she didn’t have to panic about finding help immediately. She would make it home for dinner on Mondays and Wednesdays. The need was still there, but the crisis had eased. She made a mental note to thank Yuelan. It had to be her doing.
Rounding the corner to the shared office, she headed for her desk. She stopped short. On her desk was a small takeout bag, coffee, and a thermos with the Canteen’s logo. She smiled, a wave of warmth flowing through her morning fatigue. A quick glance confirmed none of her usual companions were in. She picked up the post-it note beside it.
“I hope this keeps you warm today.”
Yuelan was such a mother hen. With a grateful sigh, she lifted the coffee and the container of congee. After a moment’s deliberation, five minutes she promised herself, you deserve at least five minutes. She sat down and ate. The savory rice porridge was amazingly delicious. .
She was scraping the last bite from the container when Sam walked in, heading for her own desk.
“Oh, that smells divine! Is that from the canteen?”
“I think so,” Mary said, wiping her mouth. “My breakfast angel visited again.”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow, a secret admirer, Mary?” she teased, a broad smile spreading.
“Hardly. Just a very kind person who’s decided to adopt me.”
“You’re being spoiled. Director Mu never buys me breakfast,” Sam pouted, playfully.
“I never buy anyone breakfast. I eat at home.”
Both women started, turning toward the voice. Director Mu stood in the doorway, her expression one of mild curiosity. She walked over.
“Good morning. Who’s buying breakfast?”
“Good morning, Director,” Mary said. “I honestly thought it might be you. The note… it sounds like something you’d say.” She handed the small paper over.
“I think Mary has a secret admirer,” Sam stage-whispered, winking.
Director Mu took the note, her eyes scanning the brief line. “How interesting. And very kind. This feels like a sincere gesture.” Her face was a polite mask, giving nothing away as she handed it back to Mary. “Sweet. I wonder who it could be.”
Mary smiled, tucking the note into her pocket. “Well, if it’s not you or Sam, I’m truly stumped. But I’m grateful. This is the third time my morning’s been saved. I hope I find out who, so I can thank them properly.”
Sam plucked the note back from Mary’s pocket with a grin. “You really have no idea?”
“None whatsoever.”
“It’s thoughtful,” Sam mused, her tone shifting to something more genuine.
“Yes, it is,” Director Mu agreed, her gaze lingering on the takeout bag for a half-second too long. “Alright, ladies. Time to start the day. Don’t forget the staff meeting right after lunch. I’ll be announcing the intern placements.”
“Have a good day, Director.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
As Director Mu left, Mary hurriedly stood, gulped the last of her coffee, and began a frantic dance of gathering: laptop bag on her shoulder, the leftover red bean pastry stuffed into a side pocket, empty containers shoved into the trash.
“See you in the canteen for lunch?” she called to Sam over her shoulder. “Whoever’s first holds a place in line.”
“Deal! Good luck! Try not to put anyone to sleep!” Sam laughed.
Mary shot out of the office, her footsteps echoing down the hall. Sam chuckled to herself, shaking her head. She’s going to be late.
Director Mu closed the door behind her firmly, just to ensure it was closed. She set her things down, still standing, she picked up the phone. Her fingers hesitated to dial the number of the young man she felt was like a second son to her. When looking at the note Mary handed her, she immediately recognized the handwriting. She set the phone back in its cradle. Maybe just wait, see what would come of this. She nodded to herself. She liked the thought. Give Ming time.
Thank you for reading, I appreciate your time. Many Blessings.
“I hope this keeps you warm today.”
that line is doing all the heavy lifting. gentle, sneaky care wrapped in breakfast and restraint. the kind of affection that pretends it’s nothing while being everything~
As I read this, I noticed myself tensing right along with Mary at the beginning. I know those tightly scheduled mornings so well, how even one small thing being off (grumpy kids, a slow start) can throw everything. I actually felt myself exhale when she saw the food waiting for her. And the fact that she’s completely oblivious to the romance behind it really underscores her exhaustion and how disconnected she is from seeing herself as a woman in that moment. I also loved Director Mu’s quiet pause at the end and her choice to let things unfold. You have such an incredible way of telling a story through small acts and subtle character development. I really admire it. 🤍And I'm with Phoeby, I've always wondered what Congee tastes like, and your story has my mouth watering without even knowing!