Page 85 of Bidding War

He mulls over the question. “People like me, we are born without goodness, so we feel no guilt.”

But I didn’t believe that for a second. Not when he came into my room on a mission to alleviate his debt to me. He has goodness, and he has guilt. There is no mistaking that. Maybe it makes him feel like a tough guy to pretend otherwise, but I know better.

To be clear, I ask, “You know I don’t think of you as indebted to me, right?”

“Like I say. You are good man.”

Chapter Forty-Six-Anderson

“I bring you healthy foods for recovery, eh?” Moss says as he unloads paper bags of groceries on my kitchen island. “We have steaks, tendon?—"

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Steaks—

“The second thing.”

“Tendon.”

I grimace at that. “Why would you bring me tendon? Who eats tendon?”

He laughs heartily. “Millions of people around the world. Why you think Asians age better than Americans? It’s the tendon, the tripe, the offal.” He points to my stomach, his face going serious all of a sudden. “You want to rebuild tendons, you eat tendons. You want to rebuild stomach, you eat stomach?—"

“You got me stomach?” I gulp.

“I got you tripe.” He shrugs. “Which is stomach. Tripe will make all better.” He pulls out the package of tripe and through the cling wrap, it looks like a very wrinkled white bag. “See? Not scary?—"

“Not appetizing, either.”

“Why is the red steak appetizing, but not the white tripe?” he asks while gesturing to each. “It’s all the same animal.”

“I’m not going to eat hooves, but they are on the same animal.”

He frowns, thinking. “Very well. But you listen to Moss. I have recovered from many bullets, stabs, falls. I know how. I will teach you how to cook all of these things.”

“Is it possible you can teach me later? June is coming soon, and?—"

“You know your father will give trouble for this.”

I sigh. “That’s why I need you to call the home nurse off. I don’t want a stranger in my home, especially one who will report back to Dad.”

He rubs his chin. “I will do this. But if he does not get reports on you, he will come by himself, so consider letting the home nurse come tomorrow, or you will have him to answer to. Nothing I can do to stop him.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Anything for you.” He goes on about the food. “Now you see, tendon and tripe go with the marrow bones?—

“You brought me bones?”

“And onions, celery, carrots, garlic, and parsley. For soup. Together, they make a wonderful broth, lots of good protein to help you heal.”

I grin up at him. “You sound like a grandma.”

He points at me. “Grandmas know everything. You listen to grandmas, you live a long, happy life. My grandma taught me the recipe when she found me with broken arm from a fight. She say I need to know how to heal to get strong and beat those boys up.” He leans forward conspiratorially, even though we are alone in my place. “I had no heart to tell her it was girls who broke my arm.”

I laugh. “Must have been some tough girls to break your arm.”

“I was seven and alone. They were ten, and there were four of them. They shove me from tree, I break my arm.” He shrugs. “Gravity did the work for them. But I ate my soup, I got strong, and I beat them up right back.”

---