Iva's POV :

"Welcome back." I greeted Mr. Smith.

"Hello dear." He coughed.

"You seem tired. Are you okay?" I got worried.

"My car was stuck in the traffic. I was feeling suffocated. I got worried as I couldn't find my asthma pump and as soon as I got hold of it, I found it was empty. Luckily I was fine after taking long breaths."

"What? You shouldn't be so careless Mr. Smith! Next time make sure to check the pump before leaving from home." I ordered him.

"Okay Mam! Don't worry, I am fine now." He rubbed his forehead with a tissue.

"That's better. You take rest for a while then we will go to your home together."

"It's okay child. I will go. Don't put yourself into strain."

It was seven in the evening. I closed the shop.

"Mr. Smith keys please."

"Keys? Iva let me drive. I am fine now."

I looked at him from above downwards, "No you are not." I extended my palms.

"Okay!" He scoffed and handled me the keys obediently.

All the way he was looking out of the car. I was focusing on the driving as I was driving after almost a year and also I didn't wanted to disturb him or freak him out with the driving.

"We reached home." I said after parking the car.

"Mr. Smith?" I placed my hands on his shoulder.

He looked at me, "Oh, I am so sorry dear, I didn't heard you before."

"It's okay. Happens with me also when I am in deep thoughts." I smiled.

"Yes deep thoughts grab you into an another world."

His house was so neat and clean. The chandelier, the floor, the tables everything was in order.

As far as I remember, Mrs. Smith was a cleanliness freak. She loved decorating her house. From the pen-holder to the big furniture everything was so perfect and beautiful.

She always complained to my mom how Mr. Smith threw his socks anywhere and she was very angry on the day when we had dinner together. Mr. Smith's smelly socks was found in the kitchen. She was very embarrassed before us and angry on Mr. Smith. She glared at him the whole time until he stood up and handled her a bouquet of roses.

We all clapped. Her smile was so good. I hope I would have captured in a camera. The very same moment my Dad gave roses to my Mom. Mr. Smith and Dad knew how to cheer their ladies.

"The house is still so lively and beautiful." I looked at Mr. Smith.

"Yes. You chose the right word. This place is still lively as she is still with me." He smiled looking at her pictures hung on the wall. There were pictures of my parents too with them, happy, smiling without efforts.

"You have come after a long time. Let's make delicious dinner for you." He went into the kitchen.

"Oh no no. Please. Let me make." I wore the big chef's hat, "What will you like to have sir?" I said in a heavy tone.

He chuckled, "I would like to have Chinese please." He handled me a fork.

I made the Chinese soup and rice. We sat on the dining table.

Few years before when my Dad was alive, our Sunday dinner was fixed at Mr. Smith's home. Her wife used to make delicious Chinese food. Alas! Neither Mrs. Smith nor my Dad are here with us.

"The food is so delicious. Your hands are magic Iva!" He said while sipping the hot soup.

"Thank you. It's all because of you and Mrs. Smith. She taught me really well."

"Yes she was great. I love her so much." He got a bit sad.

"The story is not finished yet!" I interrupted.

"Reminded me at the right time." He smiled. "So where were we?"

"Umm, your Dad and Mr. Stryker were talking about the salary.

"Right. So, my Grandfather said he don't know what exactly his salary is and he don't even remember how much salary he got in the previous months. On hearing this Mr. Stryker called his Manager. The manager who used to handle all the accounts of the Mansion's budget was changed. Instead of that irony face and frozen lips, stood a man with a welcoming smile. He handled a file to Mr. Stryker in which my Grandfather's salary from the day he worked, including bonuses and increments and the record of the salary of the servants, cooks, drivers and all the creatures working in the mansion was jotted on the paper. The manager then came back after a while with a briefcase and kept it on the table. Mr. Stryker placed I before my Grandfather."

"It's all yours." He gestured him to open the briefcase.

Grandfather opened the case and both the son and the father duo's jaw dropped in surprise.

In front of them were bundles of stiff dollars resting in the briefcase. My father thought he was imagining things but then he knew it was all real.

"Pardon me sir, what's this?" Grandfather asked. He was sweating. Hands trembling.

"This is your and your father's salary, bonuses, increments since you both started working." Mr. Stryker said.

"I..I don't understand. My father's salary?"

"Yes. Well, let me explain you briefly. Like your family, our previous Manager's generation also worked in this mansion for ages. But it's a shame that the previous Manager and his father were cheaters. They succeeded in getting a large portion of your salary from years. But the truth was unveiled when one of the servant came to me and spoke about the manager's disloyalty and cheat."

"I..I don't know what to say to you sir. I am shocked."

"I am disappointed with you Mr. Smith. I know your family has worked hard in the mansion and maybe your fore father's were the best gardener but it doesn't mean that you will drag your son in this gardening profession. Let him study, let him know the world," He looked at me and continued, "And let him cook." He smiled lightly.

We left the study room with the briefcase, thanking Mr. Stryker for his generosity.

That night when my father was getting ready for sleep, my Grandfather called him.

"Yes father, you need anything?"

"Come here child, sit." He curled his hands around my father's shoulder and said, "Where's the cookies you made for me?"

"It's here." Father took out the cookies wrapped in a cloth from his pocket.

My Grandfather ate the cookies and tear ran down his eyes.

"What happened father? The cookie is so bad?"

"No my child, it's the best cookie I have ever tasted in my life."

"What's wrong then?"

"Nothing my boy. I am proud of you. All these years I have been mean to you. My father wanted me to work with him and so did I. But, Mr. Stryker changed my thinking. I want you to have bright future. Go and join whatever your interested in it. You gave me the best gift today."

Few months later, under the suggestion of Mr. Stryker bought a plot with the given money and named it - 'The Ripen Flour'

My Grandfather continued working in the garden and my dad indulged himself in the shop. He went cooking classes. Participated in many cooking competitions and also won and indulged himself in the shop. From then till now, the shop had gone into a big transformation and all the credit goes to my beloved father.

Iva's POV :

"Whoa! What a great story." I clapped lightly.

"One thing I have learned from them, hard work and loyalty towards your work or your dreams always gives back unexpected happiness and peace to you." He said with a big smile.

"But, how you became friend with Pearl Stryker?" I asked curiously.

"Iva, look at the watch."

"Oh, it's nine! I think we should leave now." I said grabbing my bag from the the counter.

I reached home.

"You are late today Iva." Said mom.

"Yeah, actually I was with Mr. Smith at his home. He was not feeling well." I said and sat on the couch.

"Oh, what happened to him?"

"Nothing serious. He is just very lenient with his health."

"He shouldn't be so careless. I will meet him any day in this week."

"You should. He will feel good."

"Go sleep. You must be tired."

"Good Night Mom." I went to my room.

Adreano's POV :

I was working on my new project on the laptop. It was mid night. I already checked Grandma. She was sleeping in peace. I heard a subtle knock on the door.

"Come in." I looked at the door. Thinking it was Grandma. A woman peeked in. She was not my Grandma but my Mother.

I swept my eyes away from her to my laptop.

"Still awake?" She asked.

"Have to finish some work." I snapped.

"Keep your laptop away for a minute." She sat on the bed besides me. "Give some time to your mother." She added.

"I think it's you who don't have time for the world except your son."

"Hmm, how's everything going." She ignored the question for the millionth time again.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Oh come on. Stop it Adreano. Can't you be humble?"

"I think it was enough humble to talk to a stranger." I looked at her. Our eyes made an awkward contact.

"Stranger?" Her eyes welled up with tears. "Wow thank you for giving me this title. You have successfully forgotten your mother."

"My mother is my Grandma. She is my family." I gritted my teeth.

There was an unknown silence in the room. Tear rolled down her eyes. It caused a stitching pain in my heart. I wanted to hold her tight and cry and say how much I love her and miss her but I sealed my tongue.

I hated her the more than I loved her. When I was a kid she was busy with business parties and business tours with my dad. She never bothered to touch me to play with me. To check how good I was in Maths. She never came to see my football match in school. So what she gave birth to me? Role of mother is more than giving birth to a child. To give him love, care, see him grow is also a part of motherhood. The only person who deserves to be called a mother is my Grandma. I am lucky to have her in my life.

She was looking at me. Tears doing their work, rolling down one after another. I decided not to get emotional especially not in front of her. I stood up and walked out of my room.

I sat on the car and drove as fast as I could. Why me? Why she blames me for our differences? Why doesn't she realizes that she is the one who stayed far from me always. What would I have done if Grandma wasn't there for me? I would have surely died with the emptiness. I don't even have siblings. I am the only child of my busy workaholic parents. I wonder how they got time for me. It was an empty road. Only few cars, but they dissappeared as I drove out of the city. The wheels ran faster and in a moment I ended up by smashing a BMW. Crap!

*******

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