(Author’s POV)
"Professor Stephens, thank you for your help. Can you give your paynt code?" Myra was straightforward. She didn’t like to owe anyone anything.
Fabian was quick with his reply, "Aaaaa ... I don’t do online paynts."
Myra thought for a while and then said regretfully, "I am so sorry but I don’t have any cash right now. Yelena, can I borrow so from you? I will return it you to when we reach my place."
Yelena bit her lips and uttered, "Sorry, no cash with as well." Although, she said this, she had so ergency currency in her wallet. But she said nothing about it.
Myra turned back to Fabian, "How should I repay you, Professor Stephens?"
Fabian licked his lips and suggested, "You already have my number, Ms. Miracle. When we et next ti, you can give it to then. By the way, have you thought about my offer?"
"I will contact you when I am done contemplating about it," Myra answered.
Fabian didn’t push it. He got a call and said his goodbyes, "I am getting a call. Thanks for your help, Ms. Miracle. Coffee is on next ti. You too, Ms. Yates. It was nice eting you both again. Now, I will be taking my leave."
Before Myra could refuse his offer, he walked away with his phone in hand.
Myra looked at bag Fabian has given her and there was this odd feeling she couldn’t quite put a finger to it.
Yelena snapped her fingers in front of Myra’s face as she ca back to her senses, "Co on, let’s go."
Myra nodded and they walked toward Yelena’s car. After settling inside once again, she looked inside the bag and there were two boxes, one big and one small. The big one was obviously the vanilla cake Myra had ordered but the second one had a strawberry pastry, decorated with freshly cut strawberries on top.
Yelena was just about to start the engine when Myra said, "I guess they have mixed our orders. There is a strawberry pastry in this bag." She looked out of the window and searched for Fabian but he was nowhere in sight.
Yelena jumped on the opportunity and said, "Let give him a call."
She called him but the line was engaged, "His phone is busy. I will leave a voice mail. Or ..... maybe not."
"Don’t worry, when he will see you missed call and his bag he will call you back," Myra uttered.
"That’s what I want," Yelena murmured softly. It was almost inaudible to Myra.
Without wasting anyti, they zood off towards Myra’s place. Within twenty minutes, they were standing outside Myra’s house.
Myra’s parents house was located in a suburban area. The place was quieter and more relaxing from downtown’s hustle and bustle, where Yelena’s apartnt was situated.
"Here we are," Yelena said with a quiet voice.
"Yeah, finally," Myra looked at the door, took a deep, long breath and walked towards it. Yelena helped with her suitcase and walked behind her.
She rang the doorbell and waited. Within a minute, the door click opened and a familiar voice uttered, "Who’s it?"
"Mom ... surprise" Myra mumbled as a lump ford in her throat. Her nose was tingling and itching but she controlled her emotions.
When Sandra saw who it was, tears ford in her eyes as she exclaid loudly, "MYRA?" She gave her a warm and tight hug.
Sandra’s voice was loud enough that even Wendy, who was lounging on the couch heard her. Myra didn’t tell her about her plan, so it was a surprise for her as well. She jumped up from the couch and ran towards the door. "Sis, what are you doing here? Didn’t you~"
Yelena gritted her teeth and shook her head to stop Wendy to stop on ti. Wendy pursed her lips tightly. She was about to spill the beans. She changed her deanor and started acting, "Ohhh my gosh, sis. How did you co? Why didn’t you tell us that you were coming today?"
Yelena chuckled at her acting. That girl was being overdramatic but Sandra was too preoccupied with her emotions to discreet her words. She pulled away after much reluctance and held Myra’s face, "Why do you look so thin and your complexion seem pale as well. Have you been eating well? Did they not feed you well?"
Myra laughed at her words and pinched her cheeks, "I am fine, mom. Why are we standing in the doorway. Let’s go inside."
They all went inside as Myra asked, "Where’s dad? Is he not at ho?"
"He went to get a plumber. The kitchen sink is leaking again," Sandra exclaid. "Let give him a call."
"Mom, don’t tell dad on the phone," Wendy shushed Sandra.
Sandra got up and went to her room to get her phone. As soon as she was out of sight, Wendy muttered under her breath, "Sis, Yelena sis, why didn’t you guys tell about your plan?" She puffed her cheeks.
"Because my dear, you are a blabbermouth," Yelena comnted playfully.
"Yelena sis~" Wendy made a sulking face and turned her face, feigning upset.
"Okay, okay. Don’t be upset now. I got you sothing," Myra showed her the bakery bag. Wendy’s eyes widened in excitent as she yelled, "Sis, you got this for ." She kissed Myra’s cheek and said, "You are the best. Red velvet pastry, it’s my favorite."
"Ahaa .... drama queen ..." Myra ruffled her hair like a child.
Wendy stared at the other bag and asked, "What’s in that?" Without wasting anyti, she looked inside the bag and shouted again. With a shrill voice, she said, "STRAWBERRY? Ohhh my goshhhh ..... it’s so pretty. Thank you, sis."
Myra clicked her tongue and said, "I didn’t buy it."
"I did," Yelena added. Myra looked at with confusion as Yelena whispered, "Fabian hasn’t called yet. The pastry will go bad if we wait. We will buy him a new one."
Myra nodded and didn’t say a word.
Wendy dramatically sobbed, "Yelena sis, you are my second favorite."
Sandra returned after calling William. Yelena asked, "Aunt, do you have plumbing tools at ho? I will take a look at your kitchen sink."
"Yelena dear, you are our guest. You don’t need to do that," Sandra said politely.
"Haha ..... don’t be formal with , Aunt Sandra. I live alone so I am quite handy with this kind of stuff. Let take a look. Wends, co one, give a hand," Yelena gestured for Wendy to co with her.
With both the bags in hand, Wendy asked Yelena to follow behind.
Now that Sandra and Myra were alone, Sandra asked, "Why didn’t you inform us beforehand? and you dad would have picked you up at the airport."
"I wanted to give you a surprise," Myra smiled. She stared at Sandra for a while. Although, there were hardly any change in Sandra’s appearance but her eyes had slight dark circles underneath them and she looked a bit weak as well. "Mom, how is your health? Have you been taking your ds regularly?"
"Of course, your assistant wouldn’t leave my side if I sohow forgot to take them," Sandra said.
"Good job, Wendy," Myra laughed.
"Why did you call so urgently, honey?" William said while walking inside.
"Look who is here," Sandra said happily. William looked at Myra’s figure and his steps got so spring to them.
"Myra? How did you~ When did you co? Why didn’t you tell us? Are you okay? Why do you look you pale?" William fired questions after questions.
"Dad .... there is a thing called surprise. I am fine. It is just jet lag," Myra got up as she hugged William.
"It is good that you are finally ho," William patted her back and cooed.
Myra muttered under her breath, "It feels good to be back ho." She has been feeling restless because of her lies. Now, that she was back with them, she felt as if a weight has lifted off of her.
"Mom, Yelena sis is so aweso. She fixed that tap in a jiffy," Wendy uttered while coming out of the kitchen.
"It is nothing, just so survival stuff I picked up," Yelena winked at her. "Good afternoon, Uncle." She greeted William.
"Ohhh ... that car seed familiar. So, it was Yelena," William comnted. "How are you?"
"I am good as new, uncle," Yelena replied. There families were on good terms so Yelena was in a habit of speaking to William comfortably.
"What are you doing, sitting down. Wendy, get them so water," William instructed. They all settled on the couch. As if rembering so, William questioned, "How is you cousin?"
Yelena was left dumbfounded by his question as she was quick to ask, "Which cousin are you talking about, Uncle William?"
Myra’s eyes widened. She recalled what William was talking about.
"Your cousin’s foot was injured right?" William asked with a confused look.
To Be Continued . . . . . . . . .
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