Chapter 838: Chapter 838: The Reserved and Silently Attractive Man
After dinner, Catherine Ford took Alice back to her place, and Reed moved the six boxes from the Ford family to Benjamin Jones into the house. The additional two boxes were from Mr. Ford to Catherine, which Benjamin instructed Reed to deliver directly to her.
Once Reed left, Mrs. Jones curiously opened the boxes and then gave her son a weird look. Benjamin, puzzled, asked, “Is there a problem?”
“Nothing, just share so with Mom. You keeping them won’t be of much use anyway.” Mrs. Jones said and even winked at her son.
Benjamin, “…”
He walked over, opened the boxes, and found they were all filled with food items: one box of cured at, one box of cinnamon, chili, Sichuan peppercorns, star anise, aniseed, pepper, and other spices, one box of dried vegetables that included black fungus, white fungus, longans, dates, goji berries, and the last box was dried seafood, including scallops, sea cucumbers, shark fins, sea cucumber guts, abalones…
Each box was packed to the brim, with every item neatly vacuum-sealed and stacked.
After inspecting them, Benjamin’s expression was even stranger than his mother’s. He could tell these items were carefully selected, and the four boxes weren’t cheap. The Ford family had put a lot of thought into this for him.
“You promised to have the driver co and take them away tomorrow.” Mrs. Jones knew more about these items than Benjamin did and recognised them as high-quality goods. After her remark, she added, “Treat Catherine better in the future.”
Benjamin hadn’t agreed to the first request, and the second one made him quite uncomfortable. With a frown, he looked at his mother as if asking, what do you an by ‘treat Catherine better’?
Having raised her taciturn son to thirty, Mrs. Jones understood his expressions all too well and imdiately got the hint. Pretending to be oblivious, she chuckled and said, “That’s settled then.”
“No, that won’t do.” This ti Benjamin finally spoke up, and his refusal was very straightforward.
Mrs. Jones was shocked, “Why not? You neither cook nor eat them, keeping them would be a waste.”
“Oh, Catherine can cook.” Benjamin closed the boxes after he spoke and then instructed Reed, “Put them in the kitchen. Let Catherine deal with them tomorrow. You should go ho early to rest, no need to co to work tomorrow.”
Upon hearing this, Reed promptly went about the task.
Mrs. Jones watched as Reed took the boxes to the kitchen, heartbroken; those were premium items not available in supermarkets. “My son, you don’t love your mother anymore.”
Benjamin imdiately got goosebumps, “Mom, I’m not Dad.”
He ant to say, don’t act coquettishly with .
Mrs. Jones’s heart was struck once more, so she headed to the kitchen and took out a piece of matcha bean paste cake from the fridge, needing to eat sothing to soothe her wounded soul.
But just as she did, Benjamin’s departing footsteps halted; his deep black eyes landed on the cake.
Mrs. Jones noticed, “You want to eat? No way.”
After saying that, she took a bite herself, only to hear her son slowly say, “Not really, it puts on weight.”
Mrs. Jones, “…” Her son could really be vexing.
Even though Benjamin said that, he went upstairs looking for the small biscuits Catherine sent him last ti. He found the tin, but it was completely empty.
Holding the empty biscuit tin, he almost instantly knew his parents were to bla, feeling a wave of annoyance for not hiding it better.
Now, having missed out on the cake and the biscuits gone as well, Benjamin’s mood inexplicably worsened. After pondering, he ssaged Catherine, “No need to co over too early tomorrow.”
Catherine Ford, who had just finished taking a bath, saw the ssage from the man who usually didn’t bother replying. Rembering that she had taken two days off and didn’t need to go tomorrow, and that she could also take Alice to get used to the early learning class at the property managent, nodded in agreent.
After placing the order, she rembered the man wasn’t right in front of her, and hurriedly replied, “Okay, what ti should I co over?”
“Nine o’clock, my mother really likes the cakes you make,” Benjamin Jones deliberated for a mont before replying.
“Then I’ll make so to take back to Auntie tomorrow.” Catherine Ford had a very good impression of the Joneses, and she was pleased that Mrs. Jones liked her cakes.
But after sending that response, she thought Benjamin wouldn’t say anything more, only for her phone to buzz with another ssage: “And cookies.”
Catherine pondered; she hadn’t made cookies for Mrs. Jones, then she recalled the portion that Alice shared with Benjamin the last ti, and suddenly understood—the man probably didn’t eat them, so he gave them to Mrs. Jones.
She felt an inexplicable sense of disappointnt, but quickly adjusted her mood and replied.
Yet after replying, she found herself unable to sleep, thinking about the events of the past few days, and so of the man’s unintentional gestures, which easily rippled her heart, especially tonight when she fell and he pulled her into his arms—that mont of palpitation had not yet completely faded away.
But no matter how her heart fluttered, Catherine knew that she and he were impossible.
Just like the advice her father had given her.
Sighing softly, Catherine looked at her daughter on the bed, sprawled out in sleep, realizing she probably wasn’t sleepy because she had slept too long in the car and decided to go to the kitchen to make cakes and cookies.
With that, she beca busy until late at night.
The next day, Benjamin notified his father’s driver the night before to pick up his mother at 8:30 in the morning. Mrs. Jones, preoccupied with thoughts of the paternity test results, didn’t Tsukkomi her son for once, and got up at eight to get ready, dawdled a little, and only then by nine o’clock, just as she descended the stairs, saw Catherine coming in with two bags.
Benjamin, on the treadmill, looked slightly stunned and was about to speak when he heard Catherine’s surprised question, “Auntie, are you leaving now?”
Mrs. Jones thinking of her son saying Catherine wouldn’t co over this morning, glanced at Benjamin with a smile and said, “I have things to attend to back ho, I will co visit you and Alice in a few days.”
Upon hearing Mrs. Jones, Catherine felt a bit embarrassed and hurriedly refused, then quickly opened the bags in her hand, “Lawyer Jones said you like the cakes and cookies I make, so I made so last night.”
As she spoke, Catherine took out a box of cakes and two boxes of cookies.
The cakes were small, with a box containing four flavors; she made several flavors of cookies as well, especially brought over this morning.
Mrs. Jones took Catherine’s paper bag with a complex look, glanced at her son, still running on the treadmill as if he didn’t care about the commotion over here, and chuckled inwardly. Still playing coy, fooling, pretending not to be interested in the girl.
So he hurried her up in the morning, all to trick the young lady into making sweets for him in her na, tsk tsk.
Benjamin felt his mother’s mocking gaze, cleared his throat to turn off the treadmill, wiped the thin sweat from his cheeks with a towel, and urged as if unintentionally, “Mom, the driver has been waiting for you for forty minutes.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Jones said in a aningful tone, thanked Catherine gracefully, and left. However, as soon as she got into the car, the dignified Mrs. Jones imdiately called her husband, “Do you know what your precious son did today?”
Mr. Jones was used to his wife’s daily Tsukkomi of their son and patiently listened from last night’s gifts from the Fords until the morning’s events, sowhat incredulous, “Did he really do that?”
“Indeed, he tricked by saying Catherine wouldn’t co over this morning and asked you to arrange for the driver to pick up early. Then he told Catherine to co a bit later, saying it was because I wanted cakes and cookies. If I hadn’t dawdled, I would have definitely missed Catherine and not gotten the cakes and cookies,” Mrs. Ford remarked with a tsk.
Mr. Jones laughed, “Seems like your son is truly lovestruck this ti.”
Mrs. Jones nodded, but thinking of Catherine, she couldn’t help but murmur, “It’s a pity the girl is divorced…”
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