The sudden flood of memories caught Miranda off guard. Was she really the one who had stubbornly grabbed his collar and refused to let go?
Facing Paul’s teasing gaze, she felt so embarrassed she wished the ground would swallow her up.
“Remember now?” Paul asked with an amused tone.
“Sorry, I…” She started, her voice trailing off.
“Do you even need to ask? Of course not. Who would want their head knocked? I’m not a drum, and you said yourself that getting hit too much would make someone stupid,” he said, dissolving half of her embarrassment with a single line.
“Then why did you hit my head?” she muttered under her breath while sulking. As she recalled that part, earlier fragments of the memory became clearer—he had started it.
Paul straightened up, speaking earnestly, “I’ll say it again. You can drink, but don’t overdo it.”
“Uh-huh.” Miranda nodded obediently like a scolded child, not daring to disagree.
“What are you two chatting about?” Lionel asked, returning after washing his hands and taking a gulp of pear soup.
Paul took a bite of his cobbler with a faint smile. “We were just talking about drinking…”
“Oh, right! Speaking of that, Paul, why don’t you stay for lunch? We can have a little drink together. You were telling me about that new nuclear power technology last time—it was fascinating. Let’s continue that conversation today!” Lionel suggested.
Instead of agreeing right away, Paul turned to Miranda. “What do you think?”
“W–We’d better not drink,” she stammered anxiously. Drinking caused nothing but trouble! She added, “You’ve got to go to the lab this afternoon, remember? It’s best not to drink. And Dad, you shouldn’t either. A meal will do.”
Lionel nodded. “Alright then, Paul can’t drink. I guess we’ll have a little on our own.”
“Oh?” Paul raised an eyebrow. “Does Miranda enjoy drinking?”
“She does! She even said yesterday she’d have a drink with me, but her mother stopped her,” Lionel replied.
Miranda’s scalp tingled with discomfort, thinking, “Dad, did you not notice I was winking for you to stop!”
“But she’s always been a sensible kid,” Lionel quickly added, as if recalling something. “She rarely drinks, just a sip now and then. Last time was an exception.”
Miranda’s face flushed with embarrassment.
Paul chuckled, nodding thoughtfully, “Yes, she’s always been quite measured and responsible.”
“Yes, she is…” Lionel beamed with fatherly pride, grinning foolishly at the compliment.
At noon, Lionel took charge of cooking again. Quick and efficient, he soon prepared a table full of dishes, all different from the last time.
At the dining table, Lionel said, “Paul, eat up! Don’t be shy.” He encouraged, then glanced at Miranda. “Why didn’t you grab a glass? Let me get one—”
“Dad! No, wait—” Miranda quickly stopped him.
“Huh?” Lionel was puzzled.
“Alcohol isn’t good for our health, let’s skip it this time,” she insisted.
Lionel looked at her with an expression that seemed to say, “You can’t be serious.” They had just talked about having a drink together privately!
Miranda straightened up. “I’ve suddenly realized my previous mindset wasn’t very mature. I’ve finally woken up. Dad, you shouldn’t drink. Let’s all not drink.”
Lionel stood there, speechless.
“Mom doesn’t like it when you drink, right?” Miranda turned to Mindy for support.
Lionel sighed. What a traitor!
After lunch, Paul instinctively rolled up his sleeves, offering to help clear the table.
Lionel quickly urged him to leave it. “No need, leave it, leave it—I’ll handle it.”
Paul replied, “You didn’t treat me as an outsider when you invited me for lunch, so don’t start now.”
“Um…”
Before Lionel could argue, Paul had already gathered the dishes and carried them into the kitchen. Mindy watched him with surprise as he walked away.
“Well, what do you think? Surprising, huh? Not many men are as diligent as Paul,” Lionel said proudly. “It’s no wonder he and I get along so well.”