Albert feigned annoyance. “What are you talking about? Jessie can barely stand the sight of me these days. We're miles from tying the knot."

Though he tried to play it cool, a faint smirk graced his lips. “Fix me up a bowl of that soup."

Elsie eagerly complied, “Sure thing! This here is the chicken soup with fresh bamboo shoots. It's as fresh as it gets this season. Mrs. Green does put a lot of thought into it."

A steaming bowl landed on the table.

Albert's stomach rumbled at the sight, but before he dug in, he dialed Jessie's mom to extend his thanks.

Elsie, unwilling to miss out, hovered nearby, her ears perked.

Albert shot her a glance. His expression was mixed.

When Lettie picked up, she remained frosty as she said, "Mr. Waston, what's the deal?"

Albert humbled himself further.

In a respectful tone, he praised, "Hello, Lettie. I just got back and tried your chicken soup. Real thoughtful. Those bamboo shoots, fresh as they come. But I'm sure it wasn't easy to find them this time of year. Maybe just toss in some yams next time."

Lettie scoffed.

“Are you already lining up for another bowl? And drop the first-name basis. Too cozy. I don't want the folks getting the wrong idea."

Albert wasn't fazed and maintained his respect.

He used to charm women with ease.

Age hadn't dulled his skills. Before hanging up, he'd have his next soup lined up.

Elsie stood agape.

She blurted out, "Mr. Waston, you're really something else."

Albert chuckled softly. "Too bad Jessie isn't falling for it."

Elsie nodded. "Guess you didn't take her seriously enough, hurt her too much for a shot at the future."

Albert glanced up at Elsie, who realized her blunder and made a hasty exit.