[Titanic] Ticket

Lester stayed in the hospital until the fall, when the weather became so cold that every time a window was opened it was a sudden Cretaceous disaster.

He lives alone, there are always flowers and fruit on the bedside table, pretending that his place is busy, but in fact it is not, except for Victor and Jessica, very few people come.

"The weather is terrible," Lester muttered, pulling up the blanket covering his legs.

The nurse who came in to take his temperature showed a kind smile: "At least there is sunshine, Mr. Roland. You should sit in the yard for a while. Let me tell you, the leaves of this sycamore tree are falling beautifully."

Lester muttered softly, and he sat up a little cooperatively, leaning his back against the wall, and the dampness spread to his back through the thin hospital gown-this made him feel uncomfortable, the nurse took the thermometer away , as usual, within normal values ​​- he knew he was not sick, but he didn't really want to be discharged from the hospital.

Anyway, this is Strauss' private hospital. As long as Victor has no objection, he can live here like a cheap apartment until the end of the world.

Lester sat and brooded for a while, maybe an hour or two, until Jessica walked in with a bunch of stuff and yelled at him for making herself look like a tuna fresh off Lake Baikal .

"Curse God, can you calm me down just for a moment—just for a moment, please, don't act like a stupid little baby who can't even take care of himself!"

Jessica poured him a cup of hot tea, and the white steam rolled in the air, making everything soft-edged and peaceful, like a hallucination, or so it was.

"You're doing well."

Lester spoke gently, he was always good at adjusting his expression, Jessica sighed heavily, reached out and untied the ribbon on her head, her ginger curly hair was messily scattered on her back, like a quilt The cat scratched the messy wool: "Yes, yes, I can work under Leicester, the most generous and good-tempered boss in the United States, Roland, and I dare say that I have a better life than ever. The problem is you, dear of."

Lester shrugged, still maintaining an impeccably gentle expression, looking like a statue that would never be touched.

Jessica scratched her thick hair and decided to change the subject—Lester was unexpectedly vigilant, as if there were three layers of the Berlin Wall outside: "Carl went to New Mexico, old Hockley was mad, He vowed to teach Carl a lesson. But we both know the sky is flying and he's out of the game."

This topic is not necessarily very good.

Lester took a sip of tea, his dark gray eyes softened a little.

"You are a shameless person." Jessica concluded. She is a shrewd woman. Even if she has never done it before, she can manage Lester's affairs in an orderly manner. She must have seen through the essence , just like Victor, but obviously her sobriety is better than his.

Lester narrowed his eyes and smiled, and said in a sweet voice, "But obviously I'll pay you, honey. Now, can we talk about the Washington Post stock purchase?"

……

Catherine absently fiddled with the cocker spaniel who was acting coquettishly. She was notified that Lester would be here soon—old Charlie didn't seem to have much to say about it.

Since Carl left, he has been like this, spending long hours in the hostess bedroom that the white cuckoo has always kept-looking through the yellowing photo albums, touching every portrait, refusing everyone's company and lying in the wicker chair Live every sunset.

This is really like a joke isn't it.

Benjamin came down the stairs, wearing a well-made suit and shirt, and his hair was smeared with thick hairspray that even the flies couldn't stand. Catherine raised his eyelids, and his hands carefully retracted, revealing a flattering smile. smile.

"Morning, good morning, sister."

"Don't put money on your face, Mr. Colin, my brother is in New Mexico." Catherine said coldly, and she hugged the dog to the table, which is absolutely in accordance with dining etiquette in theory, but who the hell cares , Karl left, why does she have to give this bastard a good face?

Benjamin looked like weeping, and he even nervously grabbed the square scarf on the table—but soon realized that something was wrong, and carefully smoothed out those creases: "I have no other intentions, miss. I just want my dad to be happy, he loves seeing the family together."

Catherine said impatiently: "Take your whore mother into White Cuckoo for a family reunion? For Hockley's sake, don't be ashamed Mr. Colin, you really think you're someone—"

"Catherine!"

Old Charlie interrupted her pungent words with a livid face. He looked terribly angry, but the little girl also stood up and confronted him expressionlessly. Benjamin crouched on the back of the chair, biting his lips like A terrified poor little one.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, it seems that I have not arrived at the right time."

Lester's brisk tone broke the rigid and heavy atmosphere. He took off his woolen coat and handed it to Butler Henry. He walked to the table familiarly and asked May for a cup of hot coffee and a vanilla cake. Tapping her chin pointedly: "Dear Catherine, I noticed that Butter is a little hungry, and I guess it may want some light beef."

Catherine straightened her hair and thanked politely: "I think you are right, your reminders are always just right. Are you feeling better, Lester?"

"Of course, a little stomach bleeding and overwork don't get me down."

Lester winked at the little girl. This slightly intimate gesture made Catherine relax. She sat down again and fed her dog with meat and water on a clean plate. The brown-red cocker spaniel clings to her arm and eats quietly while wagging its tail. Catherine's long eyelashes rest on her smooth skin, looking incredibly gentle.

Old Charlie's eyes were complicated. Since Carl left, his relationship with Catherine was full of tension. They both obviously had Hockley's usual bad temper. She defended her brother and used her life to protect his status, reputation and staying in White. Everything in the cuckoo - looks like a lioness guarding her cubs, and herself, looks more like a hyena who has strayed into its territory and is trying to shamelessly leave its own trace.

This is certainly weird, but it is not incomprehensible. After all, as long as Benjamin stays here, he will always be that shameful betrayer.

Old Charlie's eyes fell on Lester—thinner than ever, in a smart black turtleneck and white shirt, he looked more scholarly than businessman, his complexion a rare pearly white , with long blond hair tied back, gray eyes soft and bright, lips rich and rosy, beautiful-even if he hated it, old Charlie had to admit it.

"Mr. Roland, I want to say that you are really a villain who plays with people's hearts." Old Charlie said coldly, the disgust in his eyes was undisguised.

He knows his son, and if they choose to fight to the end at first, it will be Carl who finally surrenders, and then he will go on the right path, marry a wife and have children-maybe have a broken relationship with Lester, but it will never affect Hockley Respect in high circles--it would even be a story with such an able lover.

But now it is clear that everything is irreversible, this shameful little man is retreating, well, now his wish has come true, Carl, a foolish kid, stepped into his trap, and went to reclaim the Southwest like a warrior The Badlands at the top of the house--ha, could there be anything more ridiculous than that in all the Hockleys!

Lester squinted his eyes and smiled, and put down his coffee cup gently. The sound of porcelain colliding was soft and pleasant: "Mr. Hockley, why don't you think about the good? You are still father and son, and Carl will serve as a gift for Hockley's heyday." Adding a rich touch, I don't think there is one better than this Mr. Colin."

Mr. Bastard gave him a vicious look, and Lester twitched his lips lazily without sincerity.

Old Charlie took a deep breath and finally exclaimed, full of rage, "But I'd lose my grandson! Or granddaughter! Hell, can any of you give me a fucking heir?"

Catherine and Lester looked at each other, there is no doubt that they saw disbelief in each other's eyes, followed by ecstasy, the little girl hesitated and said: "Father, if my understanding ability has not appeared question--"

"Yes! Yes, I fucking agree! Curse Satan, I don't want to lose my only son at all!" Old Charlie said with a look of "God sent these shameless bastards to torture me so that I will not live in peace" The expression of collapse——Benjamin turned completely pale when he heard this, and he stared at old Charlie, as if he wanted to find even the slightest bit of remorse and guilt for saying the wrong thing—but No, grumbled old Hockley loudly, with great temper, "come on, you whoever you want, I deserve it anyway, don't you? If your mother had been around, she would never have let you do it—oh, my dear Jane —Oh, I'm sorry for her..."

Butler Henry quickly handed him a handkerchief and cider that could stabilize his mood. Catherine complained to Lester in a low voice: "This is really—you have to thank my mother—God, what's wrong with him?"

Lester thought for a while, and replied gently and tolerantly: "You know, people like to look back on the past when they are old, and he may have an attack of conscience—you know, he obviously owes you a lot to your mother, to Carl, and to you." In addition, I have to remind you to maintain respect, my dear, he is your father."

Catherine rolled her eyes, put down the dog and stepped forward to give old Charlie a hug.