Chapter 731: Did Lucy Summers Really Get into Trouble?
Chapter 731: Chapter 731: Did Lucy Summers Really Get into Trouble?
Mrs. Summers, suppressing a wave of anger, forced a few words through gritted teeth. "Yes, as long as she’s okay."
"I’ll go get a broom and clean this up," Lucy Summers said, ducking her head as she walked out of the kitchen.
Mrs. Summers’ brow furrowed. This was all so vexing.
That night, she lay in bed, tossing and turning. Unable to sleep, she nudged the person beside her with her elbow. "Are you asleep?"
"What’s wrong?" Mr. Summers asked, his eyes still closed.
Mrs. Summers said, "I have a feeling Lulu has been acting strange since she came back. Don’t you think she might’ve gotten fired from her job?"
"If she got fired, then let her rest at home for a while," Mr. Summers said.
"Easy for you to say," Mrs. Summers said, displeased. "I was counting on her to earn more money to help out the family! When Cole starts dating and gets married, what part of that doesn’t cost money?"
Mr. Summers had heard this sort of talk from her too many times and was getting annoyed. His tone grew impatient. "Stop being so calculating about everything. No matter what, Lulu is our daughter, too. I’ve felt guilty ever since we didn’t let her go to college."
"Guilty about what?" Mrs. Summers immediately sat up, her tone aggressive. "What do you have to feel guilty about? If she’d ended up with another family, her life would have been even worse!"
"You..." Mr. Summers sat up too, his voice full of helplessness. "Didn’t we agree before? That we would love Lulu as if she were our own flesh and blood?"
"Yes, but she’s not our biological child, after all." Mrs. Summers’ voice took on a tearful edge. "If she were my own child, do you think I wouldn’t know how to love her?"
Mr. Summers sighed. "You can’t think like that. Lulu has been our daughter for over a decade."
Mrs. Summers’ voice was filled with sorrow. "But she’s still not our own blood. She’s not the flesh of my flesh. It’s just not the same..."
"You..." Mr. Summers opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say. In the end, all that was left was a sigh.
That night, Lucy thought she would be up all night, but to her surprise, she slept soundly until dawn.
She stretched, climbed out of bed, and walked out of her room. A quick scan revealed that, once again, no one else was home.
Lucy picked up her phone and saw that Mrs. Summers had sent her a voice message an hour ago.
She played it—"Lulu, your father and I have gone to work. There are dumplings and buns in the pot. Steam them yourself when you get up. Just wait for me to come back from work to cook lunch, don’t you make anything."
Lucy remembered what Renee Jennings had told her to do yesterday and replied, "Okay, got it. By the way, Mom, if anyone comes asking about me in the next couple of days, just tell them you don’t know me and have never heard of me."
That sentence left Mrs. Summers agitated all morning, so much so that she was restless and on edge at the courier station.
She grabbed Mr. Summers as soon as he returned from a delivery. "Do you think Lucy Summers has really gotten herself into some kind of trouble?"
"She’s so well-behaved. What kind of trouble could she possibly get into?" Mr. Summers retorted with a frown.
Mrs. Summers said, "It’s hard to say. You can know a person’s face, but you can’t know their heart."
Mr. Summers didn’t say anything, just turned back to sorting packages.
Around noon, Lucy was at home looking through her old high school notes when she heard the sound of an electric scooter stopping at the door.
Mrs. Summers opened the door and came in. Seeing Lucy reading, her heart skipped a beat. "Lulu, why are you reading?"
"Oh, it’s nothing. Just looking at some old notes," Lucy explained.
"Oh," Mrs. Summers said, then continued, "By the way, what was that voice message you sent me today all about? Did something happen?"
"I..." Lucy stammered. "It’s nothing, Mom, don’t worry. As long as you pretend you don’t know me, everything will be fine."
Her words only made Mrs. Summers more panicked. "What is it? You have to tell me clearly so I know what I’m dealing with."
"It’s not a big deal," Lucy said, putting down her notebook and forcing a sweet, obedient smile. "Mom, is it time to make lunch? I can help."
Mrs. Summers was not about to let her help with cooking, afraid she would discover all the meat stashed in the freezer.
"No, no." She pushed Lucy out of the kitchen. "Leave the cooking to Mom. You rarely get to come home, so just sit down and watch some TV."
Lucy sat back down on the sofa, picked up her phone, and sent a message to their four-person group chat: [She’s making lunch now. You guys should go eat too. If you head over after you’re done, the timing will be perfect.]
This four-person group had been created at Michelle Fuller’s strong suggestion. She wanted to feel involved and also wanted a way to communicate with Lucy.
The moment Lucy’s message went out, the first reply was from Michelle Fuller: [Roger that. We’ll eat our fill and then put on a good show.]
The second reply was from Sheryl Sawyer: [Okay. Lulu, you should eat plenty too.]
And finally, Renee Jennings: [See you in a bit~]
Half an hour later, Mr. Summers came home and called out to her, "Lulu, time for lunch."
"Shouldn’t we wait for Cole to get back?" Lucy asked.
Mr. Summers said, "He rarely comes home for lunch these days. He usually eats out."
Lucy nodded and got up to go to the dining room.
On the round wooden dining table were three dishes: the last few scraps of chicken from last night, now stir-fried with a green pepper; a plate of greens; and a dish of carrots stir-fried with pork, though the pork slices were pitifully few.
"Since Lulu’s home, I made an extra dish," Mrs. Summers said, handing her a large bowl of rice.
Back when she was still in school and living at home, Mrs. Summers had always given her a lot of rice, even using a larger-sized bowl specifically for her.
Back then, Lucy had thought it was because she cared for her and wanted her to eat more.
Now, she finally understood—it wasn’t about loving her more. It was about filling her up with rice so that Cole could have more of the meat.
Lucy found the thought ridiculous, and once again, the meal was tasteless to her.
She couldn’t tell if it was because of her mood or because Mrs. Summers had been too stingy with the oil and salt.
After lunch, Lucy offered to do the dishes, but Mrs. Summers stopped her. "Lulu, just leave them. Mom will wash them."
She was still traumatized by what had happened with the dishes last night.
Lucy didn’t want to wash them anyway, so she obediently left.
Mr. Summers was sitting in the living room smoking. Not wanting to breathe in the secondhand smoke, Lucy started up the stairs.
"Lulu," Mr. Summers called out, stopping her.
Lucy stopped, turned around, and blinked. "Dad, what is it?"
"Have you run into some kind of trouble recently?" Mr. Summers asked.
Lucy pressed her lips together before answering, "It’s just a small thing. Nothing serious."
Mr. Summers nodded, took a drag from his cigarette, and asked, "Is everything at work going well?"
"It’s going great."
"Then your mom must be overthinking things," Mr. Summers said with a gentle smile. "As long as you’re okay. If something does happen, remember to tell us. Don’t try to bear it all by yourself."
Lucy lowered her head, her brow furrowed. She couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or just putting on a show.
"I know. I’m going upstairs now," Lucy said, turning to climb the stairs.
Mr. Summers lit another cigarette. Mrs. Summers came out of the kitchen after finishing the dishes, glanced up toward the second floor, and asked in a low voice, "Is she really okay?"
"What could possibly be wrong?" The words had barely left Mr. Summers’ mouth when the half-closed door was pushed open from the outside.