"Lunch?" The boy looked at the young lady, nearly dropped his spoon.
"Why? Is it really that shocking for your mother inviting a guest for lunch?" She closed the book in front of her.
"Your mother is not a total stranger to me, you know? She was a student of my mother. I knew her since I was a kid."
The boy looked interested with the new fact. He put his spoon and placed the bowl on his drawer beside the bed. "So, you know my mother?"
"Maybe to be exact, I knew your mother. It's been more than 8 years since the last time I met her. I can't really say I know her now, right?"
"Hem, you might be true. So, tell me more, about my mother being your mother's student, I mean."
The young lady took a glance at the young boy, then she reopened the book on the last page she read. The awkward silence floated for a while, but the young boy waited patiently. He knew he shouldn't rush it.
"Well, it wasn't much. My mother opened a free-class, teaching some youngsters in our neighbourhood about farming, dairy product and processing, and how to manage small money. It was her idealism to help the youngsters to have some knowledge to survive the war."
"I see. No wonder she is so good, though our family farm is definitely not big."
Suddenly the door was knocked several times and opened. "The lunch is ready. Lynn, come join me. It's not fun to eat alone, and we have years to catch up," the lady smiled nicely to the young lady.
"Sure. I also miss your cooking," she looked at the boy, "See you at the shop, boy. Get well soon."
"Are you satisfied with my environment?"
"Very," then the young lady closed the door.
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