My son hesitated. “That’s not a good idea. My dad’s not just stingy, but he also cares too much about pride. How am I supposed to tell him that?”
I pushed the door open and walked in. “No need to discuss it anymore.”
“Ma’am, from now on, you can handle the cooking and grocery shopping. I’ll go back to my hometown tomorrow. I quit.”
——
I stood at the door, watching their expressions change.
My son, Daniel Sanders, avoided my eyes, yet his face filled with annoyance and embarrassment.
Wanda frowned deeply. “Dad, that’s really rude. How could you stand outside and eavesdrop on us?”
Her mother, Martha, the woman who always wore heavy makeup, quickly added, “Oh no, I can’t do that job. I’ve got my morning and evening dance classes every day. I don’t have time to cook at the factory.”
I said coldly, “If you don’t have time, then just hire a chef. Either way, I’m done.”
Wanda immediately objected. “No way! Hiring a chef costs seven to eight hundred dollars. Our small factory can’t afford that!”
Then she gave Daniel a look, signaling him to say something.