Chapter 68: Lunchbox Made With Love
She furrowed her brows, disappointment evident. “Won’t you eat a little? You used to love the dishes I made.”
“I’m not hungry, but the stray dogs roaming the hospital entrance seem to be, rummaging through trash cans. You can give it to them,” Raylee retorted sarcastically.
Harriet’s composure remained unshaken.
“Ray-Ray, Mommy knows you’re upset,” she sighed. “All right, you don’t have to eat now. Let’s just chat for a bit, you and I.”
She produced a photograph from her handbag. The disappointment on her face faded, replaced by a renewed warmth. She handed the picture to Raylee, smiling brightly. “Ray-Ray, look at this. Do you remember this?”
Raylee glanced at the photo. It depicted a little girl making a wish before her birthday cake, her smile radiant. She was instantly transported back to her memories.
Of course, she remembered. How could she forget something so profound? The photograph showed her around ten years old, on her birthday, during a family camping trip to the forest park. She couldn't recall the specifics, but remembered feeling elated. She'd wandered off into the woods and become lost. The forest, with its tangled vines, felt like a suffocating green net. Fear consumed her; she ran frantically, crying out in desperation.
Harriet, too, was lost in memories, a faint smile of contentment gracing her face, a longing for the past evident.
“That day was your birthday—we took you camping. But you got lost. Your dad, your brother, and I… so many people searched for you. I finally found you in a cave, unconscious. We’d passed it countless times, thinking it too narrow to hide anyone. But I insisted on breaking open that rock. If I hadn’t, I would have lost you forever.”
Raylee didn’t deny it; without Harriet, her life would have ended on her tenth birthday. Grateful. She should be eternally grateful. She was not only grateful but deeply moved.
Before Waverly’s return, she’d felt like the happiest child in the world, with a comfortable family and unconditional love. She’d believed she would remain so. Even after Waverly's return, she’d deluded herself, believing the Goodridge family, her family for eighteen years, still loved her. They’d lived together, loving each other as a true family. She never imagined their relationship would deteriorate into enmity. Memories flooded her mind, bringing tears to her eyes.
She was human, with feelings. She was certain she hadn't harmed them. So why…
Harriet continued her story, her own emotions overwhelming her; her eyes reddened with tears of maternal love.
But to Raylee, these were crocodile tears. Harriet was simply rehashing an old story, a pathetic attempt to garner sympathy. The one subject Raylee couldn't discuss with the Goodridges was love.
Raylee cut her off coldly. “Are you done? What a shame. Despite your passionate speech, you're the only one moved. Everyone knows what a snake in the grass is really after—it all comes down to your son.”
Harriet’s jaw dropped. After all she'd said, Raylee still saw it as ulterior motives? As scheming?
Calming herself, Harriet set aside the photo and produced mushroom soup and red velvet cake from the lunchbox. “Ray-Ray, I made these for you. Please, could you at least try a little? I’m begging you.”
The humble plea from a woman of her stature was surprising.
Raylee glared. “I won’t eat food from someone who wishes me dead. I’m afraid you might poison it!”
“How could that be? I didn’t push you down the stairs, and poisoning is absurd! I’ll eat to show you!”
In a rush, Harriet opened the lunchbox, scalding herself with the hot soup. She dropped the lunchbox; soup and pastries spilled everywhere.
Waverly arrived, witnessing the scene. She rushed to Harriet's defense.
“Raylee, if you don’t want to eat, fine, but how could you spill the dish Mom worked so hard on? Do you realize how much time she spent preparing your meal? She spent hours shopping and cooking herself; she wouldn’t even let the nanny help!”