Chapter 89 Chapter 89
“Of course, I need to check if you’re really okay. After all, you’re my patient,” Doc. Jeggo said smugly as I let him into my house.
I could only roll my eyes when I saw what was inside the plastic bag he was carrying.
“Are you kidding me? You treat me like a patient and then you bring alcohol?!” I pointed out the canned beers that were still icy cold.
“Of course, those aren’t for you. Those are mine. This is yours—pineapple juice. Good for the heart. HAHA!”
I just shook my head as I brought it to the living room. “So what’s your reason for coming here, and why are you planning to drink alcohol? Do you have a problem?”
“Me, none. But you do. I can see it, Doc. Jade. You can’t hide anything from me. Ever since I leeched myself into your life, I’ve known when you need someone by your side and someone to talk to about your problems.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Well, at least you admit you’re a leech in my life! But you’re wrong about knowing when I need someone, because if you really knew me, you’d know I don’t need someone to talk to about my problems. I’ve lived alone for so long,” I said bluntly as I poured the snacks he brought onto the table, as if I hadn’t almost died yesterday. Great—after an IV drip, I’m about to poison my body again. As if I don’t know the effects. Am I really a doctor?
Then again, it’s been a long time since I last drank alcohol. Maybe through that, I can forget the pain for a while. Tsk. How can I even call myself a doctor if I believe in something like that? Maybe I’m losing my mind.
I opened the pineapple juice meant for me and drank it. I brought the snacks to the living room where Doc Jeggo was sitting and fiddling with his phone. Jeggo was sitting, fiddling with his phone.
“Finish all of this so you can leave already, because you won’t get anything out of me. I’m not someone who talks about my problems,” I said. He put his phone away and looked at me.
“Doc. Jade, I won’t force you if you don’t want to. I’m really just here to check on you.” He took out his tools to check my vital signs and other things. I did have to admire the effort he was putting into taking care of me.
He also felt my pulse, and I noticed his brows furrow.
“What is it?” I asked because he looked like he was turning pale.
“N-nothing.”
“Tsk. Give me my hand already! You know I can do all of this myself. I’m a doctor too, Doc. Jeggo,” I insisted.
“I know, but it’s better to be sure. You’re stubborn, after all. It’s better to have a second opinion.”
I just scratched my head when he also took out an oximeter to check my sugar. What the heck?
I sighed and was about to grab some chips when he tapped my hand. “That’s not for you.”
“Huh? Then why did you bring it? Are you planning to eat all of that yourself? Do you want a UTI?”
“I’m not going to finish all of that. I’m studying something right now, so I bought those, including the alcohol.”
“And what would that be?”
“Which chips go with a specific beer.”
“What the hell?” I cursed. “You really are such a weird creature! And you even brought your work here to my house? I mean, it’s not even work! What is your deal in life, really? If the women who like you knew how weird you are, they wouldn’t like you at all!”
“So that’s why you don’t like me?”
“Huh?” I froze at his question.
“Nothing, I’m just joking. That’s actually what’s good about you—you don’t see me as a man. I can be whatever I am in front of you. Now, since I’m done checking you, I’ll proceed with my research. You’re my co-researcher. Here’s the notebook and pen. Take notes of all my findings.”
I could only grimace at his command. And even though it was completely pointless, I went along with his weirdness because I had nothing else to do with my life anyway. I’d just die of boredom.
“Okay, let’s start with Boy Bawang.” He chewed on the newly opened chips and then drank San Mig Pale Pilsen. “Hey, this is good! The combination tastes great.”
“Duh? Of course! Light lagers go well with tangy and crunchy snacks like cornick. That also works with banana chips. Wait, you didn’t bring any. I have some in the pantry.”
I stood up to get my stock of banana chips and handed them to the weird doctor. He tasted them and nodded repeatedly.
“Woah, you’re right about this.”
“Tsk. It’s just basic. Then stronger ales like Red Horse go well with heavier or saltier chips like Chippy. Try that Heineken with those Oishi prawn crackers—sweet and spicy.”
He followed my recommendation. “Pwe! It’s not good!”
“Huh? What do you mean it’s not? It’s good! Bitter and then a bit sweet, haha! Let me taste it!”
I was about to grab the beer from him when he pulled it away. “You’re so stingy! I really shouldn’t have let you into my house—you don’t even share with me!”
“I told you this is just for an experiment.”
“An experiment for what? I don’t understand. What’s the purpose of this research?”
“Just because. That’s none of your business.”