There's Something About Him (Complete)

Chapter Nineteen - A Normal Breakfast

I felt a familiar hand stroking my hair as I fought the need to awaken — it had been a long night and I wasn't ready to face a new day.

"Sweetheart," My mother's voice cut through the quiet of the room as I sighed and gave up my attempts to sink back into oblivion. "Sweetheart, I need to talk to you."

'Mum," I grumbled, whining as I lifted a pillow to press it to my face.

She chuckled softly, "I wanted to let you know that your father and I will be out of town overnight and we're leaving in about an hour."

I threw the pillow and sat up quickly nearly colliding with her as she jerked back to sit straight on the edge of my bed.

"What's happened?"

My suddenly panicked eyes searched her face looking for signs that there was about to be an announcement of bad news — the only time that my parents went away together was when there was a mess that only my father could resolve.

She smiled softly and rubbed my back, "Nothing to worry over. Your father received an invitation from the President and he is insisting that I accompany him."

I rolled my eyes, "Because you're invited to share company with the ruler of the USA every day, Mother."

She tapped me gently on the shoulder, "You hush. I have no idea how my life came to be like this."

I pushed my quilt away as she lifted to her feet, "You married daddy."

She nodded sagely, "Ah yes." She looked down at me with a twinkle in her eye, "Don't marry a powerful man who drags you to Washington for dinners with the President and First Lady."

I laughed and stretched as I slipped out of bed, "I'll be sure to keep that in mind if and when I'm considering matrimony."

"I hope that that will not come for quite a few years yet."

I slipped into a robe before following her from the room and down the ridiculous amount of stairs until we entered the smallest of our dining rooms where my father already occupied his usual chair at the head of the table.

"Morning, Jellybean," Dad greeted cheerily as he winked at my mother.

I groaned, "Daddy, do you really have to call me that?"

 He chuckled, "You're never too old to carry around the nickname that your father gave you."

I slouched down into a chair and started serving myself from the tray set in the middle of the table, "You chose that one when I was still an embryo. I think I've outgrown it."

He shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth before he poked his tongue out.