ρυяε sωεεт ιмαgιηαтιση

Second Offer

Willy parked the glass elevator right outside the café. I pressed the button and sprinted out, rushing into the shop.

I could hear Mr. Greystone in the kitchen, and I walked into the back, calling for him. "Mr. Greystone?"

"Mary, where the bloody hell have you been?!" He came out of the kitchen, glaring at me. "Better have a good reason, or you are fired!"

"I am so, so sorry! An emergency popped up involving a close friend, and I needed to be there. Please, I promise it won't happen again," I begged, and he could see the sincerity behind my eyes. He sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders.

"You're lucky I'm nice," he grumbled. "Hurry up and go clean the dishes."

"Yes sir." I hurried to the kitchen and put on my apron, beginning to scrub and wash the plates clean.

After about thirty minutes of washing, I'm called to the front. I strode out and asked Mr. Greystone, "Yes, sir?"

"Do me a favor and wait on that table over there, with the two gentlemen," he stated, pointing to a table where Willy and Charlie sat. I grinned and nodded.

"Hello, boys," I greeted to them. They looked up at me and smiled.

"Hi, Mary!" Charlie said, and Willy smiled minutely. "Mr. Wonka and I just thought we'd grab a small bite to eat, before he heads out."

Willy nodded and leaned forward a bit, saying in a hushed voice, "Actually, Charlie, I wanted to talk to you both."

He grinned a bit mischievously, and I raised my brow at him.

"How about that offer?" Willy said with a wink. Charlie smiled, and then got serious.

"On one condition," Charlie demanded. "My family comes with me and lives with us."

I nodded in agreement with Charlie's demand. Willy thought about it, leaning back against the chair.

"Hm..." he hummed. Charlie and I both waited, and I felt my hope rise and fall in a cycle inside me. He looked at me, and said, "Deal."

"Yay!" I cheered, smiling excitedly. And I realized what that meant. I get to live with Willy in the factory with my family...!

With a burst of joy, I hugged Willy, and kissed his cheek again. I whispered to him, "Thank you."

I rushed to the kitchen, finished washing the dishes, and called to Mr. Greystone.

"What is it, child?" He gave me an annoyed look.

I said politely, "I'd like to resign from my job."

His jaw dropped and he nearly yelled, "That's not going to happen, missy. You need the money!"

"Actually, I don't. I still have my job at the candy shop. Look at it this way: I won't let you down by running late ever again."

He squinted his eyes and held out his hand. I untied my apron, and handed it to him. He gave me a minute glare, then walked into the kitchen.

Keeping my cool, I returned to the table and said to my two boys, "Let's get out of here."

Charlie grinned and Willy smirked. I took Willy's and Charlie's hand in my own, and we left the little restaurant behind.

Willy managed to not run into the glass elevator, and we all stepped in, grinning ear to ear. Before I knew it, we were parked outside of our little home. Charlie raced out of the elevator, and shouted for Mr. and Mrs. Bucket.

I hung back, taking this moment to look at our chocolatier, no matter the imperfection. He looked at me, a sparkle in his eye.

"Thank you," was all he said. I had that same impulse to kiss him. That very same one. But I didn't. I only met the man a couple weeks ago.

Hold on. Today... has it been nearly two weeks already...?

My birthday is just a day from now.

Tomorrow.

Willy must've thought he had done something wrong, because he began to rub my hand with his, and asked me, "What's wrong? Did I say something...?"

"No... no you did the opposite." I shook my head, beaming at him, and said, "It's not important."

I kissed his cheek again, and this time, he wasn't embarrassed. He smiled softly at me, and, slowly, embraced me in a hug. He still was oddly hesitant when it came to touching people, but I felt like he grew the most comfortable with me.

"And you are welcome, my dear Willy," I whispered in his ear. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"I see you two made up then?"

Willy and I both separate, going to the opposite sides of the elevator. Grandpa Joe chuckles and looks at Willy.

"My, my... Mr. Wonka?" We walk out of the elevator and up to Grandpa Joe. I noticed that Willy was starkly taller than him, too, towering him by at least a foot.

"You must be Charlie's grandfather, Joe Bucket," Willy said, reaching his hand out to him.

Grandpa Joe took it and shook once, looking up at Willy, saying, "I bet Mary told you about me? About how I worked for you all those years ago?"

"Yeah. Yeah! I remember! I distinctly remember having you try those Chocolate Birds, by placing the egg right onto your tongue," Willy said with a laugh. He sighed a little sigh, and smiled. "Cherry Street seems like it was just a faded dream."

"Indeed it does," Grandpa Joe agreed with his own hearty chuckle. "Well, the the rest of the Buckets wish to discuss this factory business if you don't mind."

"That's what I came here for," Willy announced with a proud smile. I took his hand again, and Grandpa Joe led us inside.

"Hi, Buckets!" I chirped when we got in. Willy helped me take off his coat that I was still wearing, and hung it up on a coat rack. He took off his hat and placed it by his coat, taking my hand again.

"So, do help me confirm what Charlie told me was true," Mr. Bucket said, crossing his arms and staring skeptically at Willy, glancing down at our hands.

Willy cleared his throat, paused, and said, "First, I want to apologize."

Mrs. Bucket froze, waiting, and Mr. Bucket raised his eyebrow. Willy continued, "What I said to you a week ago, was very rude and disrespectful of me. And I realized with the help of Mary and Charlie, that family was definitely more important than a lifetime supply of chocolate. I hadn't realized this before, due to my own self-interests of becoming the most successful chocolatier in the world. And I deeply apologize."

I felt my jaw drop slightly, and noticed the Buckets' jaws drop as well. I shut my mouth, and cleared my throat. Willy glanced at me, a nervous edge in his demeanor, and I smiled and nodded assuringly.

He looked back at the family, and proposed, "So, with your consent, I would like to know if... you would like to... to come and live in my factory... As a family."

Mr. Bucket looked over to Mrs. Bucket, and she smiled softly. Mr. Bucket gave her a curt nod, agreeing to their silent conversation and said to us, "Absolutely. We will."