Grandma Georgina knew exactly what she was talking about, when she said things will be getting much better.
Charlie helped his parents fix the hole in the roof. Grandpa Joe spent the these past couple of days out of bed, helping with chores. He didn't feel tired at all.
Things had never been better for the Bucket family. Although, I happened to have moments where I blocked everything out, going numb. The Buckets continued to worry, but it happened less and less as the days went by. It's already been a week since that painful night, and each day, the sales of his candy kept dropping...
I had gotten another job at the Greystone Café, my shift in the afternoon. I wanted to be able to support my adopted family more, and I felt compelled to contribute everything I can to them.
I was wiping tables, and I saw Charlie enter the café. "Hello Charlie! How was school?"
"It was good. I came to polish some shoes for any gentlemen that want or need it."
"Why'd you get the job, again?" I asked him with curiosity.
"Thought I'd get a job since you are working two," he said, smiling his sweet smile.
"Aw, Charlie. C'mere," I beckoned. He ran to me and wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go. I pushed him away slightly, getting a good look at him.
"Oh, how did I get so blessed to have you and your family as my own...?" I whispered to him. He smiled and hugged me again. I returned the embrace, and sighed contently.
"I couldn't ask for anyone else to be my sister," he told me, flashing me my favorite smile. I kissed his forehead and ruffled his hair. He laughed and playfully pushed me away.
"See you after work then?" I asked.
He nodded and waved his hand in parting. "See you soon, Mary!"
I grinned and returned to wiping the tables, enjoying my lifted mood.
I heard Mr. Greystone's voice from the kitchen call, "Mary! Come in 'ere."
I set the rag down on the counter, heading into the kitchen. Mr. Greystone was cleaning the dishes, and he stopped when I walked in.
"Can you wash these? I'm going to go and set up the tables for today's reservations. I 'ave an unusually large gathering today," he chuckled.
"Yes, sir. That is no problem." I smiled politely.
He muttered, "Good girl," walking out to the dining room area. I nodded and faced the dishes covered in scraps from yesterday's customers.
I glanced at the garbage, seeing that it was full. I pulled out the bag, taking it out to throw away. I sped outside, walking to the large garbage can on the street. I dropped it into the can, wiping and dusting my hands off. I glanced at Charlie, who was already polishing a gentleman's shoes. I couldn't see the gentleman's features, as he was hidden behind today's newspaper.
I heard the man say to Charlie, "Pity about that chocolate fellow, Wendell, er, Walter."
Strange... I've heard a similar phrase before...
Charlie corrected, "Willy Wonka."
"That's the one," the man stated. "Says here in the paper his new candies aren't selling very well. But I suppose he's just a rotten egg who deserves it."
Charlie nodded. "Yep."
The man asked in a skeptical voice, "Oh, really?"
I walked up to Charlie and interrupted, "Hey, Charlie. Can I get you something to drink before I get back to work?"
Charlie looked up at me and grinned. "Sure! A cup of hot cocoa, please. Thank you, Mary."
I smiled and said, "No problem."
I went to the café entrance, and lingered a bit, the man's air making me curious. I shook my head, and walked in. I grabbed a cup and filled it with hot cocoa, walking out and handing it to Charlie.
"Thanks, Mary," Charlie said as he took it and drank some. I smiled and walked back inside.
I grabbed a dampened cloth and wiped down the tables near the front of the café, trying to hear their conversation.
"You ever met him, the chocolate maker?" the man continued. Charlie nodded again.
"I did. I thought he was great at first, but then he didn't turn out so nice." Charlie paused, and then stated with a shrug, "He also has a funny haircut."
The man slapped the newspaper down onto his lap, leaning down face-to-face with Charlie. "I do not!"
It's him.
Charlie was about to ask him something, when I strode out of the shop loudly, standing beside Charlie and scowling at the chocolatier, crossing my arms.
The man slowly looked up at me, his violet eyes hidden behind those signature black goggle-like glasses. But his expression was that same one of guilt that he had the night I told him to leave.
"Why are you here?" I asked, letting a little of the venom seep from my tone.
Charlie nodded, clearly having the same question. The chocolatier opened his mouth to say something, then shut it.
"I... I don't feel so hot. What makes you feel better when you feel terrible?" he asked Charlie. I stood there, staring him down, and fighting the urge to slap him upside the head.
Charlie then said, as if it was obvious, "My family."
Mr. Wonka leaned back in the chair, muttering, "Euw."
"Of course, you wouldn't understand," I muttered back, my emotions boiling within me. Mr. Wonka flinched at my words.
Charlie ignored my comment, and demanded calmly, "What do you have against my family?"
Mr. Wonka sighed, exhasperated. "It's not just your family. It's the whole idea of..."
The word "family" refused to escape his mouth. He sighed again and complained, "You know, they're always telling you what to do, what not to do, and it's not conducive to a creative atmosphere."
I was fuming. I took a deep breath, two, three more, and sighed, irritated. Charlie looked up at me, and gave me a "give-him-a-chance" look.
Charlie then explained, "Usually they're just trying to protect you because they love you. If you don't believe me, you should ask."
Mr. Wonka scoffed, asking sarcastically, "Ask who? My father?"
He shook his head and mumbled, "No way. At least, not by myself."
Charlie offered, "You want me to go with you?"
Mr. Wonka snapped his gaze to Charlie, and smiled for the first time during this whole encounter. "Hey... Hey, what a good idea!"
"No."
Their gazes flew to mine, and I glared at Mr. Wonka. "Before you take him anywhere, you owe our family an apology. You owe Charlie an apology. And you owe me an apology. And I am not letting him leave my sight with you."
I glanced at Charlie, and he gave me that look again.
Mr. Wonka stood up, walking slowly to me, and Charlie set the shoe polish on the little wooden bench. I had forgotten how tall Mr. Wonka really was, but I didn't falter as I stared up at him.
He looked down, and took off his glasses, sliding them into his coat pocket. I continued staring daggers at him until he looked up at me. My heart skipped a beat, and I refused to believe the sight of tears in his eyes.
He opened his mouth, then shut it, unsure how to apologize. He murmured, "Mary?"
I muttered in the same volume, still irritated, "Yes, Mr. Wonka?"
He took a breath and began, "When I got back into the elevator, I... I didn't look at any one of your siblings; I didn't know how to look upon them. I didn't listen to them; I didn't... I didn't know what to... to listen for. I didn't utter a word; I didn't know what... to say."
He looked down, ashamed, and took a deep breath.
"I don't understand what 'family' is. I only saw what was laid out before me: a poor, honest-to-goodness family. I saw how happy you all were, but I couldn't see how you could be happy." He looked at me and gestured to Charlie.
"I've never seen a happier child than your dear brother," he said with a nervous smile.
I squinted my eyes, not convinced. "Your point?"
"My point..." he murmured, glancing at me in subtle desperation. "My point is that I thought Charlie would've been happier living in the factory, and because he would be able to get anything he ever dreamed of..."
He looked up at the sky, smiling softly with that thought. He glanced back at me, and his guilty frown returned. "Yet, he said no."
"Because family means so much more than candy. People mean more than chocolate," I explained. "And for you to waltz in and tell Charlie about our family being a dead goose over his head..."
He nodded, looking down at the ground.
"I wish I understood. I really do," he said quietly. "... I want to understand."
I pondered this over, and looked around me. Heaving a heavy sigh, I said, "If you really do, then I will forgive you."
He threw his gaze to me, his eyes widening at my statement. Charlie smiled, and hugged Mr. Wonka.
He raised his arms in surprise, and slowly wrapped his arm around Charlie, a smile tugging at his lips.
"I still am not sure whether I believe you or not though, Charlie. My father never showed any sort of sentiment for me," he said, gently pushing my brother away to look at him.
"Then ask him. I will go with you, if Mary doesn't—" I cut Charlie off.
"I will go, too." Mr. Wonka looked at me, a smile creeping onto his face. I fought my own smile, ultimately failing in the end.
Mr. Wonka nodded, thinking over the idea, "Yeah... Yeah!"
He let go of Charlie and waltzed away, grinning his signature grin. "And you know what? I got trans—"
He ran right into his glass elevator for the second time I've seen. I smirked, trying not to laugh. Mr. Wonka stood up and glanced nervously over his shoulder at us. "I have to be more careful where I park this thing."
We stepped into the elevator, and Mr. Wonka pressed a button, the elevator gradually rising and taking off.
Mr. Wonka seemed to get more and more uneasy as time went by. He kept glancing over at me, and looked down at my hands, then returning his focus to the earth beneath us.
I knew that he wanted to hold my hand again, but I'm just not sure if I can handle that just yet. I still am working on forgiving him fully.
He swallowed anxiously and Charlie watched us both, glancing between us, and said, "For the love of chocolate, can you two just move on?"
I shot him a look, and finally smirked, laughing lightly. "Okay, okay, no need to snap."
I took Mr. Wonka's hand, slightly reluctant, and Mr. Wonka seemed to relax a little. He smiled softly at me, still withholding a nervous gleam in his gaze.
I grinned minutely, and I saw Charlie face away from us, watching the ground beneath him flee away. Mr. Wonka tugged my hand, taking my attention from the city below. His deep violet eyes spoke a thousand words, cited ten thousand apologies, begged a million times for forgiveness.
He then smiled his signature smile, and I returned the smile with my own. On impulse, I stood on my tippy-toes, and kissed his cheek, biting my lip sheepishly.
I couldn't stay mad at him.
He froze, startled by my sudden sign of affection. I giggled at Mr. Wonka's—Willy's—flushed face, and he exhaled a shaky breath, smiling in embarrassment and looking away to hide his face.
Charlie glanced back at us and raised a skeptical eyebrow, smiling. I smirked and glanced below, watching the snowy landscapes slide by.
I looked up and saw a tall apartment complex standing alone in the middle of the barren snowy plain ahead.