After turning on the TV, Monica only watched for a moment before heading toward the kitchen.


    She couldn''t just rx while the two ''kids'' were doing all the work.


    When she reached the kitchen doorway, she saw Bet, sleeves rolled up, washing dishes at the sink.


    Yvonne stood beside him, ying the part of a supervisor. "Work hard, Mr. Bet Thompson. If they''re not clean, you''ll have to do them over, and I''ll have to dock your pay."


    "And what is my pay?" Bet asked yfully.


    Yvonne hesitated for a second, then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.


    "Vonnie, stop messing around," Bet said, subconsciously touching the spot she''d kissed, his eyes a mixture of gentle helplessness and adoration.


    Monica stood at the kitchen door, watching the young couple yfully tease each other. For a moment, it was as if she had been transported back to when her daughter was still alive.


    Her Yvonne had been just like that, bossing Bet around like a little queen. And only Bet would indulge her.


    A gentle smile appeared on Monica''s face, but when the name ''Vonnie'' escaped Bet''s lips, her smile froze.


    She frowned, hesitated for a moment, and then walked into the kitchen.


    "Mrs. Jones." Bet turned, saw Monica, and nodded in greeting.


    "Mrs. Jones, we can handle this. You''ve already worked hard enough cooking. Go and rest in the living room and watch TV," Yvonne said.


    "Mm," Monica responded vaguely. Then she said to Yvonne, "Yvonne, I remember you used to have awbook. I can''t find it anywhere. You have younger eyes, could you help me look for it?"


    "Oh, okay." Yvonne was taken aback for a moment before nodding.


    On a holiday, of all times, why would Monica suddenly need awbook? But Yvonne didn''t ask and went straight upstairs.


    No one knew better than her where her books were kept.


    After Yvonne went upstairs, Bet washed thest bowl, ced it in the draining


    rack, dried his hands, and turned to face Monica.


    "Mrs. Jones, if you have something to say, please don''t hesitate."


    There was no way Monica was looking for aw book on a holiday, and she certainly wouldn''t have sent Yvonne to find it. She clearly had something to say to him and had denberately sent Yvonne away


    Monica looked at Bet, her expression turning serious. "I heard you call Yvonne ''Vonnie'' just now."


    Bet paused. He was usually so careful, never using Yvonne''s nickname in front of others.


    But just now in the kitchen, it had only been the two of them, and Yvonne was joking with him. It had slipped out unintentionally, and he never imagined Monica would overhear.


    Bet didn''t know how to exin, so he simply pressed his lips together and said nothing.


    Monica sighed deeply and continued.


    "Vonnie holds an irreceable ce in my heart and her father''s. I know she was special to you, too. A first love is unforgettable for anyone But Bet, life is too long to be spent living in the past." ''


    "Vonnie was Vonnie. And Yvonne is Yvonne. She''s a wonderful girl, and she isn''t, Vonnie''s substitute, anyone else''s, Bet, if you''re


    treating her as a recement for


    Vonnie, it''s not fair to her."


    Hearing this, Bet instinctively raised a hand to his forehead, feeling a headacheing on.


    He couldn''t exin to Monica that Yvonne was Vonnie. So, he could only nod


    vaguely and say, "It was a slip of the tongue. It won''t happen again."