Remaining Days, Please Advise

"What Do You Call Me?"

As soon as they entered the room, they saw Old Mr. Jones lying on the bed, listening to the radio, with a pot of tea and three mugs on the table.

Hearing the sound, Old Mr. Jones sat up, smiling and said, "You're a bit early; we haven't started cooking yet."

Elena's gentle voice carried a hint of coquettishness, "We didn’t come just for the meal."

"Of course! My grandson-in-law is visiting; I must treat him well, right?"

Elena couldn't help but blush. "Grandpa!"

Old Mr. Jones chuckled and waved his hand, "Alright, alright, I won't say it anymore."

Elena poured some tea into Old Mr. Jones's cup and also filled cups for Chris and herself.

Chris took a small sip, "Rich citrus aroma, full-bodied with a slight bitterness, a delightful taste."

"You have a good palate."

Old Mr. Jones explained with a smile, "This is TWG Tea's French Earl Grey. It was your grandmother's favorite. She always paired it with a plate of muffins. Elena is so much like her grandmother; she only drinks Earl Grey Tea."

Chris's voice was deep, "Grandpa, do you have any more of this tea?"

Elena looked at him curiously, "You like it too?"

"You love it, so I should keep some at home."

Elena's eyes flickered as she met Chris's gaze for a second, then instinctively lowered her eyes to avoid it.

Old Mr. Jones chuckled, "Alright, alright! I'll have Sam pack a couple of extra boxes of tea later so you two can enjoy it together."

Old Mr. Jones's smile paused briefly, "When are you planning to visit Elysian Heights?"

Elysian Heights was where Elena's parents lived. The old man was asking when Chris would go to meet his in-laws.

Elena spoke first, "We're going there for dinner tonight; we've already arranged it with my parents."

Old Mr. Jones nodded, "After you got your marriage license, I called your father. I told him to handle the Nelson family issue. I still haven't settled the score with them for arranging your blind date with Brian back then."

Even with Chris present, Old Mr. Jones didn't hold back, speaking bluntly, "If anyone in the Jones family dares to give you a hard time, just tell Grandpa. I'll deal with them for you."

Elena responded softly.

No wonder last night when she called to inform them about the marriage, her father didn’t say anything unnecessary. It turns out Grandpa had already taken care of it.

Chris said in a deep voice, "Grandpa, I'll be there for Elena."

"With you by Elena's side, I'm very reassured." Old Mr. Jones's tone was full of trust in Chris.

"I've discussed the wedding with your parents. Do you two young people have any opinions?"

Elena looked at Chris, her voice soft, "We've talked about it and feel there's no need for a big celebration, just inviting some relatives and friends."

The Jones family and the Patrick family both had substantial wealth. If the wedding were to be grandly celebrated, it would take at least six months to a year, which seemed unnecessary.

"Your father and I think the same." Old Mr. Jones nodded slightly, then said to Chris, "Your mother mentioned that the 27th of next month is a good day."

Chris looked at Elena. Elena hesitated, "…I'll go along with Grandpa's arrangements."

"Alright."

Old Mr. Jones pulled Chris over to play chess. Elena, feeling bored, brewed a new pot of tea for the two of them and went to the kitchen.

The chef was in the kitchen. Seeing Elena enter, he asked, "Miss Jones, why did you come in?"

"I came to see if there’s anything I can help with." Elena saw the prepared ingredients, rolled up her sleeves, and asked gently, "Looks like we're making quite a few desserts today?"

The chef, knowing Elena had a small hobby of making desserts, didn’t stop her and smiled, "The old man is thinking of Mr. Quant next door, so he specifically asked me to make more."

Elena smiled helplessly, "Grandpa is still tough on the outside but soft on the inside."

The two old men bicker whenever they meet, but they always think of each other when there’s something good.

After washing her hands, Elena put on gloves, mixed the flour and butter, and planned to make an apple pie.

Once the flour mixture was even and placed in the fridge to chill, Elena took a fruit knife to cut the apples into small pieces. The bracelet on her wrist shimmered, catching the light.

The chef, sharp-eyed, noticed it immediately.

"Miss, that bracelet is beautiful. When did you get it? I remember you don’t usually like wearing jewelry."

Elena glanced down at the bracelet on her wrist, her cheeks tinged with a faint pink, and she replied nonchalantly, "I bought it yesterday."

The chef, though older, wasn’t easily fooled, smiling as he said, "You bought it yesterday? I bet Mr. Patrick bought it for you?"

Elena slightly turned her head, avoiding the chef's probing gaze, "Mm."

"The old man must be very happy seeing Mr. Patrick being so attentive to you."

Elena responded softly, a gentle smile in her eyes.

In no time, several rows of desserts were lined up on the counter.

There were apple pies, blueberry pies, macarons, tiramisu, donuts, and cookies… all neatly arranged, looking beautiful.

Outside, pink cherry blossoms were gently falling, and a faint floral fragrance lingered in the air.

Elena glanced at the veranda and saw that the chess game between Chris and Old Mr. Jones was nearing its end, so she put a tray of desserts into the oven to bake.

About fifteen minutes later, the chess game outside concluded.

After finishing all the desserts, Elena was just left with the decorating.

Chris came in from outside, walking up behind Elena, his deep, magnetic voice ringing out, "Is there anything I can help with?"

Elena paused for a moment, her eyes curving with a smile, "Actually, there is. Go wash your hands first."

After Chris washed his hands, Elena had already taken off her gloves, "For these, just dip the donuts in the sauce and sprinkle some sugar on top."

"Is it that simple?"

Elena raised her eyebrows and smiled, "Yes, it's that simple. Grandpa says your hands are very steady, so this little task shouldn't be a problem for Mr. Patrick, right?"

Chris seemed to chuckle softly and lowered his voice, "What did you just call me?"

"Pa...Patrick, Mr. Patrick. Is there something wrong with that?" Elena met his deep, narrow eyes, feeling inexplicably nervous.

Chris's lips curled slightly, "Nothing wrong with it. It actually sounds quite nice."

A faint pink spread across Elena's cheeks. She handed him the tongs, "I'll go check if the desserts are done."

Chris watched her hurriedly retreating figure, his eyes full of amusement.

Elena, wearing thick gloves, took out a tray of freshly baked desserts, filling the kitchen with a rich aroma.

After changing to a new pair of gloves, Elena carefully plated the desserts, arranging them on two plates.

As she turned around, she saw Chris standing at the counter, dressed in a black shirt, his posture straight as a pine tree.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his firm forearms. His broad shoulders and narrow waist, paired with his well-defined side profile, exuded an irresistible charm.

Elena couldn't resist sneaking a few more glances. Just as Chris finished, he turned around and caught Elena’s candid gaze.

Caught red-handed, Elena felt a twinge of nervousness but maintained a calm demeanor, "These just came out of the oven. Would you like to try one?"