Waylon paused, flipping the skewers in his hand, and replied, "Timothy wasn't around at that time."
"Why not?" Doris was clueless about the details.
"Why so many questions?" Waylon didn't feel like explaining and continued flipping the skewers.
The elusive smoke made his face across the table appear somewhat dreamy. His starry eyes,
illuminated by the charcoal, emitted a penetrating glow that seemed to reach deep into the soul.
Unable to resist, Doris stole a few more glances at him.
When Waylon noticed the peculiar gaze directed at him, she quickly averted her eyes, smiling, and
said, "Ms. Louise and the kids are fortunate to have you as their big brother."
"They have Abel now," Waylon replied with a smile. "So, I can relax a bit."
"Mr. Adelmar, do you have a girlfriend?" Doris blurted out suddenly, unable to contain herself.
Upon hearing the question, both of them were taken aback.
Waylon stopped flipping the skewers and asked, "Are you trying to play matchmaker?"
"Sorry! Sorry!" Doris hurriedly popped a soybean into her mouth, awkwardly chuckling. "I just spoke
without thinking, didn't mean anything by it."
"You're nosy!" Waylon glanced at her.
Doris pouted, knowing she was in the wrong.
"Think about Ms. Louise, she's really happy."
Doris focused on finding a step-down, "It's enviable to have you on her side and to marry a man who is
good."
Doris changed the subject intentionally, but as she spoke, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness.
Her actions were swift and hearty, exuding a somewhat masculine vibe.
Waylon almost burst into laughter because of her antics.
However, Doris was oblivious, pinching a piece of meat from the skewer with an iron skewer and
devouring it.
Waylon dared not look at her anymore, as doing so would not just convey a sense of disdain but also
make him want to laugh.
He quickly raised his head and took two gulps of beer.
Sure enough, the frosty beer flowing down his throat made him feel refreshed.
A surge of audacity seemed to surge up from his belly.
"How does it feel to eat barbecue and drink beer like this?" Doris grabbed a couple more meat morsels,
set aside the skewer, and then asked Waylon.
"It's not bad. I didn't have any worries, to begin with," Waylon replied casually, picking up a stainless-
steel fork and skewering a piece of meat into his small plate.
He then put it in his mouth and began chewing.
Doris looked at him and suddenly felt that she had been quite rough earlier.
But ever since she learned to eat barbecue, she had always been drinking heavily and gobbling
skewers like this.
It was the first time she had seen a man turn barbecue into a fine dine-style meal.
Doris looked at the tendon strips she had pinched again, unsure how to proceed.
"Tell me your story," she casually said to Waylon, feigning nonchalance.
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