How I Remarry My Ex-Wife by Alvin Humphre

Chapter 37 

“Wanna try some? It smells good,” Lina suggested. 

The biscuit stall was cozy, not much room with only a handful of tables and a sign that looked like it had weathered a lifetime. Lina wasted no time saying she was a total foodie, dreaming of chowing down on every street snack known to mankind. 

Whitney was on the fence because she had just got this call from Indigox Corp. They needed a charity angle for their project and wanted her to brainstorm something killer. Plus, with a new head honcho cruising in soon, they were counting on Whitney to deliver the goods. It’s not like Whitney had anything against doing some good, but she was stumped for ideas and could use a lifeline. 

She wanted to leave because she had to do some preparation for it. Lina, though, was totally food–obsessed and wouldn’t stop dragging Whitney, trying to make her stay. 

Jonah, eyeing the joint, wrinkled his nose. “It’s a tight squeeze, who knows if it’s even clean?” he grumbled. Being the big cheese of the Gardner family, he was more of a fancy five–star hotel guy. 

“Suit yourself. Whitney and I will grab a bite,” Lina snapped, yanking Whitney inside. Jonah rolled his eyes but tagged along anyway. 

The plac 

place was buzzing 

ng even between meal times. A line snaked out the door with folks ordering to–go. 

Squeezing past the line, Whitney caught sight of the kitchen. It was small and cramped, and a middle–aged guy was whipping up biscuits like a champ, with sweat pouring down his face. Whitney figured it had to be crazy hot in there. But the guy was all smiles, working away. People said being nice could make you a mint. Whitney didn’t pay much attention to him. 

“You got those–biscuits ready, Mr. Atkins? My kid’s about to eat a hole in my pocket!” one customer called out. 

“I’m next, right? Got mine done?” another chimed in. 

“Chill, everyone! He’s flying solo in there. Give the man a break!” someone else added. 

The line was full of regulars just shooting the breeze like waiting was no big deal 

When a spot cleared up, the three of them snagged some seats quick. The menu was simple–biscuits, either sweet or savory. 

“Let’s get ten sweet and ten savory!” Jonah went big, yelling his order to the kitchen. 

“Gotcha! Hang tight, they’ll be ready in a jiffl” came a call from the back, the voice steady and no–frills. 

As they hung around for the grub, Lina teased Jonah, “Thought you said this place was sketch? You’re not scared of a little tummy trouble?” 

“What, I can’t change my mind? You want me to sit here and drool while you scarf everything down?” Jonah shot back with an eye roll. 

Lina made a move like she was gonna bonk him on the head for that. 

Whitney just laughed. She’d been around these two long enough to get used to their banter. Looking around, the place had a throwback vibe, nothing fancy. Plain white walls with a splash of light blue low down so you wouldn’t mess up your clothes, and just some ceiling fans and old–school light bulbs keeping things lit. It was snug, but spotless. 

Then, Whitney’s eyes landed on a photo pinned up on the wall–a young girl with a smile and dimples you could lose a dime in. 

As she was peering at the picture, a voice piped up next to her, “That’s Jennie, the stall owner’s daughter.” 

Whitney 

y turned around and looked at the old man confusedly. 

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The old man ate some biscuits with gravy and looked at the photo on the wall, sighing with pity in his eyes afterward. 

Jonah and Lina also heard him, so they stopped bickering and looked at him curiously, waiting for the story. 

The old man slowly swallowed the last bite of biscuit, then wiped his mouth, and said, “The little girl’s nickname is Jennie.” NôvelDrama.Org owns all © content.

Once Whitney heard the beginning of the story, she had already thought of many possibilities but didn’t interrupt the old man, listening carefully instead. 

After musing for a while, the guy went on, “Roland’s been here for ages, gotta be pushing 20 years. Word is, he was some hotshot before his daughter vanished right around here. He cashed in everything looking for her, but no luck. So, he put down roots and popped up this stand, said he’s waiting for her to come back.” He shrugged and threw a thumbs–up, “Everyone around thinks the guy’s impressive.” 

Hearing the story, Whitney turned to look at Roland, who was still busy inside, and she couldn’t help but admire him. 

Just then, the ordered biscuits were served to the three. The biscuits looked puffy and golden, emitting hot steam and looking delicious at a glance. 

“Dig in! If you’re still hungry, just holler for more,” Roland called out, then hustled back to keep those biscuits coming. 

Watching Roland get back to it, Whitney felt this lump in her throat, and all of a sudden, she wasn’t so into her biscuit. 

“Eat up, Winnie! They’re best when they’re hot!” Jonah had already picked up a biscuit and put it eagerly into his mouth. Due to the biscuit being freshly made, Jonah felt hot from the heat. 

Lina immediately interrupted, “Slow down, or you’ll torch your taste buds!” Lina warned him, half laughing 

Snapping out of it, Whitney grabbed a biscuit. It was the bomb–crispy on the outside, but soft inside, and not greasy at all. But she was still feeling all twisted up inside after hearing about Roland’s daughter, Jennifer, smiling down from that photo on the wall. Whitney thought about how she was one of the lucky ones who found her family, while some kids, like Jennifer, weren’t so lucky. 

Whitney wondered how many girls like Jennifer had the same fate in this world. 

Suddenly, an idea for her project with Indigox Corporation came to mind. Maybe she could kick off a movement to fight child trafficking? It could be a win–win, boosting her brand and helping kids at the same time. 

After her third biscuit, Whitney was stuffed. More people crammed into the shop, and Roland was hopping like a one–man circus, always with a grin, like he had an endless battery. 

The happier Roland seemed, the more it got to Whitney, making her want to do something to help, even if Roland didn’t look like he wanted any pity. The project idea was sticking in her head, solidifying with every passing second. 

Customers were hounding Roland now, “Yo, Mr. Atkins! Got those 20 biscuits for me yet? I’m in a rush!” 

“Sorry Just two minutes!” Roland’s voice was heard again, which sounded kind without any temper. 

Suddenly, Whitney stood up. 

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