Goodbye, Mr. Regret

The mention of chicken noodle soup brought a wave of nostalgia-Timothy realized he hadn't tasted it in ages.

Ever since that family day event, Jessica hadn't cooked a single meal.

Of course, Henry hadn't had chicken noodle soup for quite a while either.

The last time he'd eaten it, Mabel had been the one to make it, and honestly, it had been pretty disappointing.

He couldn't help but miss his mother's cooking.

So he piped up, "Dad, can you call Mom and ask her to come back? I want chicken noodle soup for breakfast tomorrow."

Then he tilted his head toward Sheila and added, "Miss Sheila, my mom makes the best chicken noodle soup. When she comes back, I'll ask her to make extra so you can try some too. It's really good-everything she makes is delicious. You'll be lucky to have meals with me after she comes home."

Mabel felt her stomach churn at that.

Did the young master even realize what he was saying? Calling his mother home to cook for the mistress? And inviting the mistress to stay long-term?

amused. "Thank you for

back to his father. "Dad, why haven't you called Mom yet? I remember you love her chicken noodle soup too. Don't you want her to come back and make it

he often found himself longing for Jessica's cooking. It was the taste of home, the kind that made

all right-probably

"Henry, you're forgetting- your mother left

she? If you call her, she'll

bad about skipping

attitude. He had no intention of calling

who brought home a hefty paycheck, a bright and adorable son, a sprawling house, maids at her

she

wait until she came back

You should hire a chef for the house instead of making Jessica do all the cooking. Henry loves the

been her intention at all—she'd wanted Timothy to call his