by Jiffy Kate
I should ship Lin back to my brother in Chicago.
“Okay,” the girl says. Her voice sounds defeated. “Thank you anyway.”
I look up to see a young lady, probably the same age as my granddaughter. There is a bit of fear and trepidation in her eyes, and it softens me.
“Why you need apartment anyway?”
“My mother is in Fremont. It’s, uh—”
“Rehab,” I say, cutting her off. I’m not stupid. I know what Fremont is. I’ve lived in this neighborhood for over fifty years. I’ve seen and heard a lot. I look at the girl carefully. She doesn’t look like she’s a druggie. Her arms are clean, and her eyes are clear.
“Yes, sir. I’m looking for a place to stay to be closer to her.”
“You live alone?” A girl her age and as pretty as she is should not live alone in the city. Too dangerous.
“Yes. No pets or anything.” She bites her lip as a hopeful expression begins to form on her face.
I think about it for a minute, and I can’t turn her away. Living alone in the city is not only dangerous, it’s expensive. “Fine. I rent you room. One hundred dollars a week. I pay water and electric. You take trash to dumpster out back. No funny business.”
“Really?” she asks with an edge of excitement in her voice.
“You may change mind after you see room.” I wipe my hands on my apron and take the keys out of the drawer. “It nothing special.”
“I... I don’t need special. Just a room,” she gushes, following me to the hallway.
“You can either come through front door or use key for side door, if restaurant closed.”
She nods her head and follows me up the stairs.
“Just small room with stove and refrigerator. I leave table if you want,” I tell her, opening the door. Dust flies around the room that hasn’t been occupied in so long. “Has big window.” It’s really the only selling point. Other than the good lighting, this place is shit.
“I’ll take it.”
§
“Hi, Mr. Chan,” Harper says as she walks up to the counter. “Here’s rent for this week.”
I grunt and nod my head, busy with preparing for the evening rush of customers. “Lay it by register.”
“Okay,” she says meekly. “Oh, and I added ten extra dollars to cover the money I owed you for dinner.”
I grunt again, but I don’t need her to pay me back for food. I give it to her because she needs to eat more. She’s lost weight since she moved here, and I hardly ever see her bring in groceries. Occasionally, she’ll come in from work and have a sack with her from the store down the street, but that’s only once every week or so.
“You eat dinner?” I ask, finally looking up from the cutting board.
“Oh, I’m not hungry.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I don’t believe her. I pour up a bowl of soup and then make a carton of rice. Before she gets to the stairs, I call out to her and hand her a bag. “Eat anyway.”
She blushes and slowly takes the bag. “Thank you, Mr. Chan.”
I smile and nod. “Don’t pay me back,” I instruct before going back to my work.
After a minute or so, I hear her quietly leave, taking the bag with her.
She’s working so hard to look out for her mother. She needs someone to look out for her.
I’ll look out for Harper.
§
Looking out the window of the restaurant, I see the same man who was with Harper a week or so ago. He’s pacing in front of the building, but it’s early.
I don’t like it.
For a second, I think about walking up to Harper’s apartment and telling her he’s down here. I assume they’re dating, but I’m not certain. If he’s here unannounced and unwanted, I could tell him to leave.
I don’t like people loitering outside my building.
A few minutes later, I hear the door upstairs close and then footsteps on the stairs. The door to the restaurant is still closed, so I watch for Harper to walk out the side door. I can tell by the way she’s standing that she’s caught off guard. I watch closely, waiting for any sign that she might need my help, but eventually, she relaxes and walks away with him.
I’m going to be keeping my eye on that one.
I don’t trust him.
§
It’s a busy night, and the restaurant is full. That makes me happy. Customers mean money.
What doesn’t make me happy is that creepy fucker that I saw hanging outside of the building the other day. He’s been back, and I don’t like it.
Harper walks in, and she looks tired. I immediately go to the counter and pour her some soup. She should eat, and I know this is her favorite. Her eyes always light up when I hand her the brown paper bag. When I look back up to make sure I catch her before she goes upstairs, I see her talking to a man sitting at a table by the window. He likes her. I can tell by the way he looks at her. I’ve been around the block a time or two.
I watch them as he asks her to sit and she eventually does. Her posture is reserved and guarded. I’m glad. She should be. It’s easy to be taken advantage of when you’re beautiful like Harper. I don’t think she notices her beauty. It’s been covered up by responsibility and obligation. She doesn’t get to live her life for herself. I’ve never met her mother, but I don’t like her. Anyone who wouldn’t want to love a girl like Harper is useless in my book.
She deserves more than that.
He makes her laugh.
Maybe he’ll be okay.
We’ll see.
§
Today, Harper came in, and she was upset. I could tell by the redness in her eyes. I wanted to ask, but I’m guessing it has something to do with the man she’s been seeing from time to time. I’m not good at girl stuff. She needs a mother. I know the one she has isn’t there for her. I guess the tears could be for the junkie. I’ve never disliked someone so much in my life.
Harper deserves better.
She’s a sweet girl who cares for others without expecting anything in return. She’s also responsible and thoughtful. I always thought that the way a person turned out depended on how they were raised, but Harper proves that some people are just born good. She has every reason in the world to make excuses for herself and succumb to the demons like her mother, but she doesn’t. She also has every reason in the world to turn away from her mother and go make a life for herself, but she doesn’t do that either.
I walk up the stairs and go to knock on her door to check on her, but I hear the sobs from inside and decide that maybe giving her some time alone is better.
The next morning, she comes down the stairs with resolve in her eyes. They’re still red, but whatever she’s setting out to do today, she looks determined. She tries to walk out without speaking to me, but I need to check on her, make sure she’s okay.
“Harper,” I call out, keeping my head down as I chop vegetables.
“Hi, Mr. Chan,” she says, and I can hear the sadness in her voice.
“How’s your mother?”
“She’s, uh, getting better, I guess.” She pauses, and her feet shift. There’s more than what she’s willing to say. “She’s had some bad days,” she finally says. “But it takes bad ones to get to the good ones, I suppose.”
I can tell she’s trying to force herself to believe that. I look up from the vegetables and look her over carefully. “You need to do what’s right for Harper,” I tell her. “Mother need to take care of herself. It be good for her.”
I know I can’t tell her what to do. As much as I like to think she’s part of my family, she’s not. I’m just the old man she rents a shitty room from. “Have good day, Harper,” I tell her as I go back to chopping my vegetables.
“Thanks, Mr. Chan.” There’s a glimpse of happiness in her voice, and I hope she takes my advice. It’s time she does something for herself. She deserves to be happy.
§
Harper moved out a few weeks ago, but tonight, he’s here. She didn’t give me
a lot of explanation as to why she would no longer be living upstairs. I hope she’s taking my advice and taking care of Harper. At least she still comes by and sees me every Wednesday. I’d be more worried if she didn’t.
It’s Thursday, though, and Harper isn’t here, so why is he?
“Can I have a bowl of soup, please?” He doesn’t look good tonight. His eyes are red and droopy, like he hasn’t slept in days. He reminds me of how Harper has looked lately, and I wonder what has happened between them. If he has hurt that sweet girl in any way, I’ll make him regret it.
“You not here with Harper?” I ask the pitiful man. I think I once heard Harper call him Luke.
The look of guilt that covers his face is unmistakable. He clears his throat before shaking his head.
I ladle the soup into a bowl, and while he’s taking his wallet out of his pocket, I quickly pour a generous dose of Mama Chan’s five pepper sauce and mix it into the broth. He doesn’t deserve wontons. Those are reserved for good people...people who do good...people like Harper, not him. As I hand the dinner to him, I give him an evil-eye glare that’s sure to make his balls shrivel, and if the glare doesn’t work, the soup is sure to do the job.
The restaurant is nice and quiet when I first hear the muffled coughing. I don’t have to look at the man to know he just took his first sip of the soup. While I wipe down the counter in front of me, I notice him make frequent trips to refill his glass of water. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at him.
Eventually, he brings me his bowl, and it’s completely empty. Impressive.
His face is red, and his messy hair is drenched with sweat and plastered to his face. Again, laughter tries to escape my mouth, but I manage to swallow it before he notices.
“It was very good. Thank you.” He grimaces before clearing his throat and walking out the front door.
I’m still not sure if he’s the one Harper should be with, especially if he’s the reason she’s been so sad, but he’s earned a tiny bit of respect back tonight.
§
The bell on the door chimes, and I glance up to see Harper walk through. It’s her night. I’ve been expecting her. I can tell by the look in her eyes and the way she holds her shoulders that she’s in a good place. I like this look on her. She’s started taking classes at one of the local colleges, and she’s working—a little more than I think she should, but if it makes her happy, then I guess it’s okay.
She needs extra wontons. She must keep up her energy and I don’t want her getting too skinny again. Mama Chan says wontons are good for the body, mind, and soul.
Every Wednesday, she comes in and eats, and I let her help me, mostly because I enjoy her company. She tells me about her classes and work, but I still see the slight sadness in her eyes, and I have to guess that it lingers because of her mother. There’s something else there too. It’s a hurt heart that comes from lost love. I’ve seen it before.
Mr. Chan’s no dummy.
Every Thursday, Luke comes in and eats my hot soup. I see the same look in his eyes. Gradually, I’ve been easing up on the pepper sauce, but I’m not ready to let him off the hook yet.
If he still thinks he’s going to win Harper’s forgiveness and her heart, I have to make sure he’s worthy.
§
Last week, Luke showed up on a Wednesday...with Harper. For a while, I thought I was going to have to force them to see each other. I didn’t want to have to interfere, but it was getting ridiculous. I couldn’t take much more of the moping. It was giving my restaurant a bad vibe.
I watched them as they talked. Harper leaned in toward him, and I could tell she was starting to trust him again. Luke has seemed desperate when we’ve talked on his Thursday visits. He’s started opening up about his feelings for Harper, and he’s been sticking around after hours, sweeping floors, same thing Harper does on Wednesdays. Those two are more alike than they think. I knew it was only a matter of time before they found their way back to each other.
I’m no romantic, but I want Harper taken care of, and if Luke can do that, then I’ll do what I can to make sure those two end up together.
Even if it means hiding ice cream in my freezer.
§
Harper’s mom died today. Luke called the restaurant right before closing and said he just wanted to let me know. He seemed worn down and tired, but he assured me that he was taking care of Harper.
My heart hurts for the girl I’ve become so fond of, but I feel nothing but relief that her mother is no longer around to cause her pain.
My hope now is that she’ll find a way to live and be happy.
§
One Year Later
I glance up to the door as the bell chimes, and I watch as Harper enters, followed closely by Luke. They both smile at me and take a seat at the long table by the window. I watch them as they sit close together. Luke can’t keep his eyes off her, and I can see the love there. It makes an old man smile.
Since the first day I met Harper, I’ve known she needed someone in this world. Luke is her someone, which makes him one of my favorite people, by association. As long as he makes her happy, I’m happy.
I think we both have an understanding that when and if the time comes where he no longer makes her happy, he’ll have to deal with me. I hope that time never comes.
Harper’s laugh fills the small space, and it makes me smile even bigger.
For some reason, she feels indebted to me, but that’s not necessary. She owes me nothing. However, I let her feel like she’s paying me back by keeping me company one night a week.
“Hey, Mr. Chan,” Layla calls out when she walks in the door. Harper’s best friend is a spunky one. I like her.
“Mr. Chan, my man,” Connor says, walking up to the counter. “You got the good stuff tonight?” he asks, leaning over my counter.
“I fix you up,” I tell him, continuing to stir my pan of vegetables. Connor loves the hot stuff. When they found out about the pepper sauce I used to put in Luke’s soup to teach him a lesson, Connor asked if I could put it in his all the time.
He’s crazy, that one.
A few minutes later, Mia walks in with Kyle in tow and Baby Emmy in the carrier.
And my restaurant fills with laughter and loud talking. Just the way I like it.
They meet here every Wednesday night. I pretend to work, but most of the time, I watch them, and I’m happy with what I see.
Harper’s happy.
Luke’s happy.
Their friends are all here.
My heart feels full.
Extra wontons for everyone.
We’d like to thank everyone who has held our hand through this rewarding, exciting, and often treacherous process of publishing.
Watch and See is our seventh full-length book and we would not be here today without so many supportive people in our lives—family, friends, readers. Each of you make our world a little brighter and make this journey one worth taking.
For this book, we must go way back and thank Christine, Rachel, and Pamela for being the first people to read about a girl with a penchant for ice cream and an old set of binoculars. Y’all encouraged us to tell the story in our hearts and minds. Thank you!
We’d also like to thank Nikki, our editor. There were times through this one when we thought you must’ve been tipsy or under the weather. You asked us for things we thought we’d never hear from you. Thank you for always pushing us to dig deeper, bringing out the insight, and helping us create the best book possible.
Our proofreader, friend, and drinking buddy, Ms. Karin Enders. Thank you for your keen eye and love for the written word.
A new addition to our team this time around is our cover designer and formatter, Julianna. Thank you for seeing our vision and running with it. We love your creativity and open mind.
Also, a huge shout-out to our pimp team—Pamela, Lynette, Megan, Shannon, Candace, Melissa, and Laura. Thank you for always putting your two-cents worth in and givin
g us a safe place to bounce ideas! We love y’all!
Thank you to everyone in Jiffy Kate’s Southern Belles. All of you make our days better.
This book wouldn’t be complete without the stunning face of Franggy Yanez gracing the cover. He’s a gem to work with and a professional in his craft. We couldn’t have asked for a better inspiration for Luke.
The final “thank you” goes to Mr. Chan. We’d all be lucky to have someone like him in our lives.
Jiffy Kate is the joint pen name for Jiff Simpson and Jenny Kate Altman. They're co-writing besties who share a brain and a love of cute boys, good coffee, and a fun time.
Together, they've written over twenty stories. Their first published book, Finding Focus, was released in November 2015. Since then, they’ve continued to write what they know—southern settings full of swoony heroes and strong heroines.
You can find them on most social media outlets at @jiffykate, @jiffykatewrites, or @jiffsimpson and @jennykate77.
