PBUY Chapter 12

12

People who had bet on the Western Dancer's victory were still clapping and shouting.

"Thirty Dils, gone in one shot."

"What a waste. That's a lot of money."

"It's fine. I'll make it back next time. Nellie-Belly, this isn't the only chance. That's life, you know. How about we go get some ice cream?"

Once outside, Stanley bought Nellie an ice cream.

"Thanks, Mr. Jackson."

"Sure thing, Nellie-Belly-Jelly. Eat up and grow big and strong."

Licking the vanilla ice cream he'd bought her, Nellie replied. It was cold and sweet.

"Mr. Jackson, I'm already grown up."

She was repeating something she had once told Chester.

"Really? You still look about the same age as my youngest siblings."

"How old is your youngest siblings?"

"Ten."

Nellie gave Stanley a look of disbelief. He, unfazed, was counting off his siblings' ages on his fingers.

"The second one's twenty-six, the third's twenty-three, the fourth is nineteen, and the fifth is seventeen, I think…"

"You have a lot of siblings."

"That's why I've gotta earn a lot. Every penny I make here, I send back home, buy them bread, pay for their schooling."

"But earlier…"

"The thirty Dils? Don't worry about it."

Stanley waved it off as if it were nothing.

"I was already thinking this would be my last time in the city anyway."

"Huh? Mr. Jackson, where are you going?"

For a moment, Stanley's expression turned lonely.

"I'm planning to go back to my hometown. Because of my arm."

"What?"

"I got hurt while working… and they fired me."

"But… couldn't you work again after you recover?"

"Maybe. But it could take months, and they probably thought it'd be easier just to let me go. Nellie-Belly-Jelly, you work for a long, long time, enough for the both of us."*

As if nothing were wrong, he gently ruffled her hair with his left hand.

"Mr. Jackson…"

"I don't really like talking about this kind of thing. And it feels too formal, drop the 'Mr.' and just call me Stanley."

"…Alright. Stanley."

"How about we grab some dinner before heading back? Maybe even have a drink while we're at it."

"Jackson, uh, I mean, Stanley. Drinking alcohol is illegal."

When Nellie spoke like a strict teacher, Stanley frowned, muttering that she was too uptight.

"On a day like this, you've got to be allowed a little drink."

"You should save your money. You've lost your job."

"Come on, just this once. I've worked for years without a single proper day off."

His expression darkened. Losing his job had probably hurt him more than anyone else could guess.

"…I'm sorry, Stanley. I shouldn't have spoken out of turn."

"Heh, Nellie-Belly-Jelly, who said you had to apologize? Hm? Let's just keep it easy. I didn't bring it up to hear that. Now, are we drinking or not?"

***

"Miss McKay, what's with that face?"

Chester, seated on the sofa reading the newspaper, looked up at her and asked.

"Let's just say… adult matters I can't talk about. Good morning, Mr. Coleman."

"Adult matters… you can't talk about?"

Nellie's face was as puffy as the moon from a hangover. She headed straight to the kitchen and gulped down glass after glass of water. The cold water helped her wake up a little.

"Don't try to find out. You might get hurt. Anyway, you haven't had breakfast yet, have you?"

"No, I haven't, but…"

"Then just wait a little."

Nellie took out four English muffins. She spread mayonnaise on them, topped them with cooked spinach and sliced tomatoes. In the pot, she was poaching eggs, swirling the water into a circle.

Once the eggs were done, she placed them on top of the muffins and spooned sauce over them. In no time at all, the eggs Benedict was ready.

Nellie placed the plates on the table and called out to Chester.

"Mr. Coleman, breakfast is ready."

Once she set the table and took her seat, Chester slowly came over and sat down.

Nellie attacked the food on her plate with determination. Her stomach churned, and all she wanted was to get something down to settle it.

"Ah… seriously…"

She hadn't been in her right mind yesterday. Who could have guessed someone was aging wine in a boarding house room?

"Nellie-Belly-Jelly, this is wine made from grape blocks! Aren't you curious?"

When Nellie said she was intrigued, Stanley handed her a glass to try. They had chatted away, and before they knew it, the whole bottle was gone.

"Are you sure you're alright? This 'adult matter you can't talk about'… I'm concerned something might have happened to you, Miss McKay."

Chester looked at her with genuine worry.

"Well, um, ugh."

Nellie quickly ran to the bathroom and vomited. Once her stomach was emptied, her head felt a little clearer. She stepped out and apologized to Chester.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry, Mr. Coleman… that must have been unpleasant to watch."

"More importantly, are you really alright? Did you… drink alcohol yesterday?"

"Yes… it was actually my first time drinking. And my first hangover, too."

She gulped down a glass of cold water from the table. Chester's expression hardened.

"Who on earth gave you alcohol, Miss McKay? What happened?"

His tone had sharpened. Nellie retraced the events of the previous day. Stanley had offered the wine, yes, but she had chosen to drink it.

"I drank it of my own will. It's just… yesterday, the horse I bet on lost the race."

"A race? Don't tell me you went to the racetrack?"

"Yes… I guess I did."

"And you weren't alone, I assume."

Chester's gaze was sharp.

"I went with Stanley, the person who lives at the boarding house with me."

"Doesn't that man work? Spending weekday afternoons at the racetrack…"

"He… quit his job recently."

Chester's frown deepened.

"And how much did you lose that you had to drink that much?"

"Me? Oh, it wasn't me, it was Stanley. He bet thirty Dils…"

"Thirty Dils? Miss McKay, I had no idea you kept such a gambler's company."

"No, it's not like that! I only..."

Nellie began to explain, but Chester cut in, speaking gravely.

"Miss McKay, I don't think your boarding house is a very good environment for you."

"What? But it's nice. Mrs. Gerald might not be the friendliest, but she's a great cook, and it's pretty close to Fitz Street."

"Taking you to the racetrack in the first place was the problem."

"It was my first time at the racetrack, but I had fun. I mean, I'm in the city now, shouldn't I try it at least once?"

"That's how it starts, thirty Dils, then you end up ruined. And on top of that, he plied you with enough alcohol to get you drunk… What if he'd done something to you, Miss McKay?"

"I didn't bet the thirty Dils! And… what do you mean, done something?"

"…"

Chester pressed his lips together, refusing to answer.

"Are you seriously suggesting Stanley would ever do something like that to me?"

"Is that his name, Stanley?"

"Stanley thinks of me like a kid sister. His youngest siblings is ten years old, for goodness' sake!"

"He still doesn't seem like the right sort of person. Perhaps you should find another boarding house."

Nellie's chest tightened with frustration at his words. She thumped her fist lightly against it.

"Listen here, Mr. Coleman. I'm an adult, and I have the right to go to the racetrack. Drinking too, even if it is technically illegal, I can take responsibility for myself."

"But you came to work without being fully sober, didn't you? Isn't that neglecting your duties, Miss McKay?"

Neglecting her duties, those were fighting words to Nellie McKay, a proud professional caregiver.

"That's uncalled for, Mr. Coleman. Aside from throwing up after I arrived today, have I neglected a single task?"

"…"

"Then let me ask you this, is there any legal reason an adult like me can't go to the racetrack?"

"…No. But you haven't been in the city for very long, Miss McKay, coming from the countryside-"

Chester fumbled for an excuse, but Nellie cut him off firmly.

"So you think country folk shouldn't go to the racetrack?"

"…No, that's not what I mean."

"Then what is the problem?"

"…Betting thirty Dils at the track?"

Chester muttered the answer.

"Mr. Coleman, Stanley lost thirty Dils. I lost two. I was trying to tell you that, but you keep interrupting me."

"Did I?"

Chester blinked, looking momentarily flustered as he lifted his empty coffee cup. Seeing this, Nellie refilled it for him.

"Yes, you did. Why were you getting so worked up?"

"It just… felt wrong for someone to treat you that way. After all, you're still young."

"You mean taking me to the racetrack? Or offering me wine?"

"Both…"

At that, Nellie sighed inwardly. Once again, she would have to repeat what she'd told him many times before.

"Mr. Coleman, I'm not a child. I've been living on my own since I was seventeen, well, with Mrs. Hudson, but still. I've been looking after myself this whole time. And as you know, plenty of people get married at eighteen. I could, too, if I met the right person.

🍓; *He is telling Nellie to keep working hard and for a long time, almost like Nellie has to carry the burden for both of them now, since he is no longer involved.