I Don't Want to Be in The Male Lead's Family - Chapter 6

“So, you’re going to take over your mother’s food stall? What about your school?”

Once again, Lana was confronted with questions about school. Her neighbor looked worried. Lana was still in junior high. If she didn’t continue her education, the neighbor feared Lana’s future would be bleak.

“I still need time, Ma’am, before I can go back to school,” Lana said softly, smiling at Bu Narsih.

Bu Narsih, whose children were all grown and lived out of town, looked even sadder than Audy and Herman when she saw Lana. She asked Lana to wait a moment, went inside her house, and returned with an envelope filled with some bills.

“Child, if you ever have any trouble, don’t hesitate to ask for my help. If you want to borrow money or need anything at all, just let me know, and I’ll do my best to help. If there’s any problem at school, just call me, okay?”

Hearing Bu Narsih’s words and seeing the envelope in her hand, Lana was so surprised she instinctively tried to refuse the kindness.

“Thank you, Ma’am, but I don’t need it.”

“Just take it, child. We never know when you might need money. If you don’t need it now, save it for later.”

Lana hesitated. She had planned to get by on the strength of her own hands and feet, but help had somehow found its way to her.

Bu Narsih held Lana’s hand and slipped the envelope into it.

“Go ahead and take it, child. Next time you cook something delicious, let me try a bite, will you?”

Seeing Bu Narsih’s sincerity, Lana felt guilty for refusing. She knew Bu Narsih wasn’t wealthy; that money must have been saved with effort and care.

“Thank you, Ma’am. I’ll use this money for good things,” Lana said, her heart brimming with gratitude.

After leaving Bu Narsih’s house, Lana returned home. Audy and Herman were already prepared, each holding bags filled with the food Lana had prepared earlier. Her father’s old rickety motorcycle was ready outside. Herman started the engine and left first with Lana, while Audy followed on her own motorbike.

Lana’s mother’s food stall stood on the side of a fairly busy road, the kind that was often passed by schoolchildren and workers—office staff, street vendors, and laborers alike. Lana opened the stall door and started cleaning before anything else. The silence gnawed at her now that she knew her parents would never again be present in the place she had always called home.

Her heart ached, but her hands kept moving. Herman brought in the bags of food and took the initiative to arrange the fried mackerel, salted fish, and hard-boiled eggs on the shelves.

Lana heated oil in a pan and lit the stove to continue frying the chicken that had been boiled earlier at home. She coated the chicken in a mixture of flour, salt, coriander powder, garlic powder, and a bit of seasoning. The delicious aroma spread beyond the shop.

Rice was scooped into a large, heatproof container. Audy arrived not long after and scanned the stall with a quick glance. While the chicken browned on one side, Lana used another pan to stir-fry vegetables.

Watching a fourteen-year-old girl cook like an adult filled Audy’s heart with emotion. A child forced to grow up too quickly, fighting to survive with nothing but her own hands.

Audy walked over and offered to help.

“Miss, let me do the cooking. You should sit down and rest for a bit.”

She took the spatula from Lana’s hand and began stirring the vegetables. Lana stayed beside her, flipping the frying chicken. Just then, a customer in office attire came to place a takeaway order.

Lana quickly stepped up to serve her.

“For the main dishes, you only have mackerel and salted fish? The vegetables are still cooking?”

“We also have fried chicken and eggs in chili sauce, Ma’am, but this is my first time handling my parents’ stall, so everything’s a bit slow. But the fried chicken will be ready soon.”

The office worker didn’t ask why Lana was taking over her parents’ duties. Her attention shifted to Audy, who had started lifting the fried chicken out of the pan. The flame under the stir-fry was turned up.

“All right, I’ll take two packets with fried chicken and one with mackerel.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll pack them right away.”

Lana grabbed the wax paper and a stapler. She fumbled a bit while wrapping the rice but smiled apologetically so the customer wouldn’t mind the delay.

“How much is it?” the woman asked as she took a black plastic bag containing the three rice packets Lana had prepared.

“Thirty thousand rupiah, Ma’am,” Lana answered, still smiling.

The woman handed over two ten-thousand bills and a one-thousand note.

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you too.”

Once the customer left, Lana sighed in relief. She had been nervous. Now she wondered whether the woman would return tomorrow, or if she had been disappointed and wouldn’t come again.

“Miss, teach me how to wrap the rice packets.”

Lana gave her a quick tutorial: “When a customer orders a packet, you scoop a bowl of rice, add a piece of fish on top, and two scoops of stir-fried vegetables. Then fold the paper and staple it. A rice packet with veggies is twelve thousand.”

Herman paused, then asked, “Why don’t we sell a simpler packet with just fried rice for six thousand? It’d be more affordable.”

“Oh, those usually use snakehead fish. One fish can be cut into several servings and used for many packets, which helps keep the price low. The problem is, I’m a little scared of cleaning them. River fish are usually still alive when you buy them—the meat’s sweeter than sea fish, which are already dead by the time we get them.”

“Oh, I’m not scared, Miss. If you’re not comfortable, I’ll take care of cleaning them.”

“If you don’t mind, then we could sell the more affordable packets too.”

Herman nodded, glad he could help ease Lana’s burden. He imagined that if she could hand over more of the stall duties to him, she might be able to return to school like other kids.

Not long after, another customer arrived to buy a rice packet with fried mackerel. Herman’s eyes lit up—finally, it was his turn to serve. Though a bit clumsy himself, Lana watched from behind, gently encouraging him not to worry.

“How much is it?”

“Ten thousand, Sir. Oh, by the way, starting tomorrow we’ll have a six-thousand-rupiah rice packet too. Please come again tomorrow. The twelve-thousand-rupiah version will still be available.” Herman announced the new option, hoping the customer would return.