Hearing this, Andrew almost laughed in anger.
Saying a thousand words, it was just to get him to visit his home, right?
He got it.
“So when is it convenient for me to nag?” Andrew asked.
Almost instantly, Vital’s father’s attitude became pleasant and friendly again, “Aiya, you can come whenever you want, as long as it’s a convenient time for you, I’m always convenient, but remember to let me know in advance before you come over, so that I can make preparations to entertain you.”
That accent, greasy as hell.
Andrew really couldn’t bear to have his cell phone stay in the hands of such a person.
Touching it one more time would be a defilement of the phone.
So he said, “Then I will come over now, please Uncle Dumoulin, inform me of the address of the house.”
Papa Vital immediately said the address.
Hanging up the phone, rubbing his big belly proudly, he went downstairs.
And downstairs in the living room, Vital was hugging a big bucket of ice cream and eating it, watching the TV and laughing so hard that his whole body was shaking and the ice cream in his spoon spilled onto the floor.
The gold and black marble stood out with an extra mess of stains.
Mr. Dumoulin just swept a glance and cursed unhappily, “Are you a dead man, you can’t see such a big stain, do you know how to use it for air when you have two eyes, why don’t you hurry over here and wipe it up.”
Vital lowered his head, looked at his own “masterpiece”, his eyes were surprisingly cold and disgusted, “What are you waiting for, Zachary, Dad wants you to scrub the floor!”
The father and daughter were on the same page, and the scolding was as harsh as it could be.
And when Zachary, who was busy in the kitchen, heard this, he slowly walked out, expressionless, and bent down to wipe off the globs of ice cream with a rag.
That icy face greatly aroused Mr. Dumoulin’s displeasure, “What kind of attitude is that, if it weren’t for the fact that I give you . Mom’s regular blood transfusions and coaxed your mom in the past, your mom would have died long ago. You should be thankful to Laozi instead of putting on such a foul face!”
“You gave my mom blood transfusions so that you could pinch me, and as for coaxing her to be happy, it was only so that she could find all the money I earned and give it to you wasn’t it?” Zachary’s tone was light and spoke the truth, “You get away with taking my money and you want me to be grateful to you?”
Where in the world is such a funny thing!
A remark that directly poked Mr. Dumoulin’s sore spot.
That face was like a dyeing workshop, green for a while, white for a while, and finally converging into a rich inky black color.
“You’re still underage now, what’s wrong with me taking care of your money for you, besides, I give you every month . Mom donates blood, this money is considered my nutritional expenses.” Mr. Dumoulin spoke with a set of reasons.
Zachary didn’t want to argue with him.
She was still a minor and had no way of deciding where her mom would go, and if she broke with Mr. Dumoulin herself, then Mr. Dumoulin, as mommy’s husband, could send her mom to a mental hospital.
At that time, Mommy’s condition was afraid that she would deteriorate more and more, and even accelerate her death.
Even for mommy’s sake, Zachary had to endure it.
Money could be earned again, but there was only one mommy.
She stood up, ready to go back to the kitchen to continue working.
Mr. Dumoulin had just lost face, his heart was angry, when he saw Zachary did not say anything, he thought that he had been abashed, his mouth began to mutter, “Really, it seems to follow your mom, at a young age you can earn so much money, I don’t know if it’s clean or not, did you go out and look for some weird uncle who likes kids to wrap …. … ah!”