woman wearing irish linen shirt

The key was hung on the coat rack in the entrance according to her usual habit, followed by the sound of the mask being stuffed into the trash can—did the carry-on bag just take off and put away?Miss Pender's footsteps disappeared for a moment, and as she passed the carpet they reappeared, and I turned my head just in time.

"Nice to meet you before dinner." I smiled slightly.

Originally, I didn't intend to force myself, but she—no one can see such eyes and keep a deadpan face, and my melancholy floating like water mist can't help but fade away, escaping into the air.

"What are you doing?" Miss Pande supported one arm, then raised her head towards the room again, "Your mobile phone seems to have received a new message."

Responding to her first sentence, I pushed on the sculpture with both hands and found that it couldn't move, and asked, "Is this hollow or solid?"

Miss Pan De was dumb: "What did you say?"

"My curiosity has lingered here for a long time." I resumed my original posture, but I was obviously more relieved when I put my weight on the sculpture. "This is some kind of copper material, right? If it is a solid sculpture , it can weigh several tons, and I don't understand how it got there. I also tried pushing it or knocking it to hear the sound it gave back to me, but there didn't seem to be any evidence that it was hollow. "

Miss Pender's expression had been lifted from bewilderment and transformed, richer and more fascinating, as if she had discovered something interesting.She pushed the hair back from her forehead with one hand. "How about I call the artist who made this sculpture?"

I looked at her for a while and pointed to my lips: "How about kissing your birthday girl first?"

Miss Pan De laughed for a while: "I haven't washed my hands yet, I just got home. I'll change my clothes first."

I followed her back indoors and closed the door behind me.

Miss Pender shut me out of the cloakroom.My shirtsleeves were pretty much wet, and I had every reason to change, but she still wouldn't let me in.

Although skin-to-skin people also have their boundaries, the boundaries often do not lie in the naked/naked body.I guess she might have to change her costume to try to impress me—but, at the moment, I don't have time to speculate on the details.

I am absent-minded.

People's courage is usually difficult to maintain for a long time. It is originally an invisible concept that depends on adrenaline. If the material does not last, how can the spirit last forever?

I do think that I have a safe place to return to, a firm foothold in a strange city, a home, a haven that can be called "home", and I do think that Miss Pender's suggestion is correct, I should go to Unpack some packages and try to be a free person; if not, at least try to be a person who is trying to maintain peace of mind.

My heart can't calm down.

I have stage fright.

Miss Pan De's voice came from inside the door, because of the barrier between the wall and the door, it seemed a bit muffled: "I'm coming out."

"I thought you'd 'come out'?" I hid a smile, playing a homophonic meme about coming out, "At least you're 'coming out' to me."

She turned the door open: "It's not funny."

I looked at her up and down, very surprised, and I didn't forget to point to my mouth: "I just made an appointment."

"Who made an appointment with you..." Miss Pan put her arms around my neck.

Like the first cotton candy she ate in summer, she tapped my lips twice, pressing her forehead against mine: "Happy birthday, Yao."

I couldn't help hugging her.

Miss Pande gasped, and shrank her right hand: "Oh—it's too cold. Go and change your clothes. The cloakroom is free for you now."

I couldn't help laughing, and wanted to tease her, but the wet sleeve was farther away from her.

At this time, my mobile phone on the table vibrated one after another, crawling slowly and noisily across the table, like a rigid hour hand.

Miss Pender rubbed my head: "Then let's have dinner later? I'll go to the study first. You can have the entire living room, cloakroom or other places, and I'll wait for you in that room."

"I'll have a video with him in the living room." I was silent, and took her hand, "Don't worry. All you can do to me is help, and no negative gain will come from you. "

She dragged her body and went in the opposite direction. The two of them straightened their hands. Miss Pande hooked my fingertips and frowned slightly: "Is that your love story?"

I smiled and nodded.

She didn't say anything, just hid her smile and let me go slowly.

Miss Pan De changed into home clothes, a waffle cashmere sweater suit, beige, which made her very energetic.I didn't see the expected well-dressed attendees, and my tense nerves relaxed instead.

This is what I want for my birthday: sleeping until I wake up naturally, cooking from a recipe, and a kiss from her.

I called my dad back to the past video.

Before I got connected, I fixed my hair in front of the screen.There was a bit of Miss Pender's lipstick on my lips, and I subconsciously wiped it with my thumb.The color of my lips suddenly became vivid, and I only realized what I had done, and I was about to get up and wipe it off with a tissue——

Video is on.

In a hurry, I saw my dad who was frightened by the camera. The latter was startled. I don’t know what it was, my panic, or his face with a strange angle.

More than three years.My dad looks more vicissitudes than the photos in Moments.

"Dad." I opened my mouth, unable to speak out, my mind was blank, and said, "Have you eaten yet?"

"Not yet. I'll cook noodles later, and I'm not hungry yet. I just came back from talking about business outside." My dad adjusted his glasses.The skin on his hands looked a little weird, with redness in many places, probably because he had washed his hands with alcohol too many times these days.My skin is like my mother's, and I'm not prone to allergies, but I'm safe from disaster.

"Have you eaten?" My dad asked for a long time.

"No." I said truthfully.

We were relatively silent. Today's network conditions are unbelievably smooth, and we can't even find a chat topic derived from lag.I have become accustomed to the rhythm of low-quality and delayed chatting before. At this moment, being imprisoned by the high-speed network, I seem to be the anchor of a social death live broadcast.

Why didn't he dye the white hair at the sideburns?My dad looks stable enough, and his assistant is also dressed in a dignified way. The photos in summer are also in suits and leather shoes. It should not be for the image of business talks, but deliberately.The collar of the shirt is very crisp, and the gloss doesn't look like a non-iron fabric. Did he iron the clothes himself?It's impossible for my dad to hire a nanny. If he doesn't iron himself, will he send all his clothes, shoes and socks to a dry cleaner?Dry cleaning a piece of clothing isn't cheap these days, but I can't picture my dad ironing a shirt with an iron.

What kind of noodles is he going to have for dinner?Are you full?

"Yao Yao today..." my dad said, "ah, is there anything you want to tell dad?"

He really doesn't remember my birthday.

"I want to ask you something." My tone was much calmer, "Do you still have contact with that aunt?"

My dad pursed his lips tightly, his face changed slightly.He was silent for a moment, straightened his glasses, and said, "No. I'm fine living alone now."

"What happened to you at that time, can you tell me about it?" While I was talking, I secretly felt that he was going to shut up the next moment, he would turn a deaf ear to my words, and he was determined not to confide in his heart .

But I still said, "Why did you do that, Dad?"

As I expected, my dad's face turned pale, and the muscles on his face seemed a little stiff, as if every fiber was twisted, trying to maintain a certain face, a certain majesty, and some invisible and intangible The iron man's image given by others.When I was very young, I always thought that was what my dad looked like when he was angry: after all, he hardly ever blushed with anyone, and he just sulked at home, and he would not get angry rashly.

Regardless of intellectuals or high-level workers, there are always some people in the neighborhood who like to throw bowls and scold their mothers.I know that many people envy my parents, and I used to think that such a relationship was the best.

I thought so until he cheated.

I said, "If you feel offended, you don't have to speak."

The man of iron moved.My dad covered his lips with one hand, looked down, and vaguely reminded me of him working overtime and drawing pictures at his desk late at night, and even the photos of the family going to the park on the glass plate seemed to be vivid in my mind.

His eyebrows were raised, showing a tiredness I had never seen before.My dad said lightly: "You two have nothing to offend. I've thought about it too, and there's nothing I can't tell you."

I tried to keep calm: "Have you figured out anything?"

His hands are still habitually pressing the skin under his nose, as if he is doing something difficult.I knew I couldn't wait for a long speech, but I didn't even think about it, my dad only said one sentence.

"I was so lonely then," my dad said.His tone was very flat, neither as a self-criticism nor as a sympathy, his tone was purely a statement of facts.

I froze for a while.

They were a weekend couple at the time, and I wasn't with my dad, so it's true to say I'm lonely.

I thought I could blurt it out and ask him something back.I thought that I always remembered the incomprehension and anger in my heart when I broke this matter. I thought that even if I was not justice, I should be a partner of justice. I should be able to instinctively question him, question him, and accuse him without thinking.

I can not.

My confusion has been in jeopardy since the day I was born, as if the spearhead would turn to me the next moment.

"Is it because I go to school in Beijing?" I sounded crushed, even I was surprised, "It's just to take care of me going to school and my mother—"

"Nonsense!" My dad interrupted me, his voice was not loud, but his tone was firm, "This is my mistake, it has nothing to do with you, and it has nothing to do with Lao Yao."

"But……"

"Your mother likes to do academics and doesn't like to do technical work. You know that. We have also talked a lot about where you were educated. You know what's going on in Beijing and what's going on in our oil industry." My dad said lightly. "As for me and Lao Yao, that's our problem—mainly my problem. Your dad just didn't control himself. This is very unmanly and disgraceful."

He hesitated for a second: "Did you talk about this with your mother recently?"

"No no, no." I denied, "Well, I don't talk to her much."

He nodded slowly, then suddenly said: "Then you made a mistake in your thinking?"

"No no no, how is it possible." I took a breath, "Why didn't my partner make a mistake?"

He thought for a while: "I don't think you can bear this anger."

I look at him.

He really doesn't look like anyone's father at all.In my imagination, if any father heard that his daughter had been deceived in this way, he would probably be furious. The slower-tempered ones could ask for details, while the quick-tempered ones would rush over with the guy.

Is my dad competent?

For a long time, I couldn't get a definite answer in my heart.

"Yao Yao," my dad asked slowly, "have you made friends now?"

My heart lifts up.

"I'm at my girlfriend's house right now." I looked at him, "She's in the next room, do you want to see her?"