The three of them exchanged bewildered looks, feeling as if they were about to face disaster. Despite their gossip about John, it was simply because they were so close. Tim, who usually acted tough in public, was suddenly caught in the act.
"Damn it, it's all your fault, Jack! Why did you make me stop?" Hannah muttered.
"I didn't, I just tapped you," Jack said feebly.
John's expression was the most exaggerated: "Oh my God, he's not going to kill us to silence us, is he?"
Just as the three of them couldn't breathe, Tim wiped his eyes, stood up, strode to the car, and stared blankly at the three inside. "I don't want to go home today. Do you guys have a drink somewhere?"
The three nodded enthusiastically. John stammered, "I'm on my way to Hannah and Jack's place. Jack said he had a lot of delicious food. Do you want to… uh… come along?"
Tim wordlessly opened the door and got in, joining John in the back seat. Hannah stepped on the accelerator and drove off again. The car fell silent for a moment, and after a while, Jack cautiously spoke, "Tim, are you okay?"
Tim was silent for a moment, his voice thick with nasal twang. "After Isabella woke up, she called a lawyer and gave me a divorce agreement. She doesn't want anything, just wants to end things with me."
The car fell silent again. After a while, John patted his shoulder and said soothingly, "You deserve better."
Jack opened his mouth, unsure of what to say to comfort him. In his opinion, this might actually be a good thing.
Back at Hannah's house, Jack asked her to help him carry a high stool into the kitchen and sat down to prepare dinner. Tim accompanied Hannah to the living room to play PlayStation. John, with nothing else to do, wandered into the kitchen and asked if he could help.
"Is your injury okay?" Jack asked in surprise.
John pointed to his leg. "Aren't you injured too?"
Jack sighed and handed him the tasks of peeling garlic and washing vegetables. The two chatted as they worked.
"Is your female doctor still single?" Jack asked directly, no longer shy.
"You mean Grace? I saw she was still wearing her wedding ring, so I didn't ask any more questions, and it's been so many years."
"Aren't married women the easiest to hook up with? These hot women are usually unsatisfied in some way because their husbands have gradually become less considerate of their feelings. Plus, you have an old relationship, so maybe you can rekindle it," Jack said with a grin.
John gave him a surprised look and shook his head. "No, I can't do that. I mean, just thinking about it makes me nervous. It's the kind of thinking that ruins so many people's lives."
"Hahaha, I got you. That's the right answer," Jack laughed, his face full of pranks.
John's nervous expression relaxed at once, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't try to seduce me, you devil."
Jack corrected: "It's the devil. The devil will only destroy, and the devil will play with people's hearts."
"But I think you should still talk to that…"
"Grace?"
"Yes, talk to your old lover. At least you owe her an apology, right?"
John thought for a moment and nodded. "Next time I see her, I'll try to explain it to her. I really didn't do it right back then."
Jack chuckled inwardly, but remained expressionless as he continued, "Anyway, I felt something was wrong with the way Grace looked at you that day. Maybe she still has feelings for you. I think you should ask her more. Maybe she's divorced and just hasn't had time to remove the ring yet, or maybe she and her husband are currently separated. You know, this kind of thing is very common in the United States."
"Hey! Shut up, you devil!" John laughed, waving the celery in his hand, the water droplets spraying all over Jack like holy water.
"I'll make it clear to her," he thought for a moment, then added, "How and what to explain is unclear."
Jack was pleased with John's answer. In his previous life, he had never experienced the real American society. All his information and stereotypes came from American TV series and the internet.
Before the political correctness craze swept America, the values and ideals portrayed in most American dramas were largely consistent with public perception. They also often shed light on society's darker underbelly, such as drugs, guns, gangs, and corrupt politicians. This was the main reason Jack, in his previous life, disliked America but loved American dramas.
But at least some Americans of that era were still relatively clear-headed. Just like the characters in this American drama universe, they ranged from rational to emotional, some kindhearted, others righteous. While each had their flaws, they also seemed more fleshed out.
Night fell, and after nearly three hours of hard work, it was already dinnertime. "Can you two unharmed guys move your butts? Come and serve the food!" Jack shouted into the living room.
Hannah and Tim, who were bickering over their games on the sofa, obediently put down their controllers. Upon approaching, they were stunned by the feasting spread on the table.
It's undeniable that, for a developed nation capable of leeching the world off with its knife-themed treats, American supermarkets are ridiculously cheap. A table full of candied pork knuckle, garlic lobster, charcoal-grilled lamb chops, and tomato-flavored beef brisket all cost less than $200.
Of course, today's ingredients were paid for by wealthy woman Hannah. Jack couldn't even scrape together $50 worth of cash, and payday was still a few days away. He'd already posted $5,000 in bail, and there was no telling when he'd get it back.
"Why haven't I tried any of this before? How many other recipes do you have?" Hannah shook Jack's arm, making him shudder.
Tim glanced around, pretending not to notice. "Are there any beer?" This usually serious guy was actually treating everyone as a friend, which was quite impressive, turning a blind eye to Hannah and Jack's flirtatious relationship.
"Want to try chinese's liquor?" Jack's eyes rolled. Since you want to drown your sorrows in alcohol, I might as well knock you down today and see what this guy with a stern face looks like when he's drunk.
As he said that, he dragged out a box of Erguotou from the corner. This was also what he discovered not long ago. In fact, Americans are not used to traditional liquors with strong aromas such as Moutai. Instead, they are more accepting of some light-fragrant high-alcohol liquors.
(End of this chapter)