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chapter 30

last update Last Updated: 2025-02-02 10:00:29

Aunt Marthe had this table, this god-awful old table, that had a wobbly leg and was annoying me to my very core. She had bought it when I had been 15 on the flea market and had placed it in the kitchen, where it was used as extra storage space.

My uncle and I frowned at it any time it moved, any time we saw it, any time she refused to get rid of it.

The reason why it was such a bad table was because she had built it herself.

People often wondered why I could build, and the house of my aunt was what I would point them to. Somebody had to know how to handle tools, or else something would fall onto our heads at any time.

I lifted my mug and the table wobbled; I furrowed my brows. "Let me buy you a new one – please."

"Humbug! It still does its job and I love it, Michael!"

I raised my brow at the wax and jam spots on the old walnut table. Tatie was usually against wooden pieces, but this one had stolen her heart. My aunt often joked she loved the table as much as she loved uncle.

"I'm su
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