Temporary Secretary

Twenty

The door opened slowly, revealing an older couple. I recognized them instantly. Upon seeing my face, they became frozen.

"Amethyst, is that really you?" My mother spoke. 

Her voice was just as gentle as I could remember it. She was the one who was there for me, yet she was forced to go along with all of my father's anger.

"It's me, mum. And this..." I paused, glancing at Paul, Stella, and James.

"I'm her boyfriend, Paul. Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Rowe."

Paul offered out his hand to shake my father's, who reluctantly accepted Paul's greeting, pulling away quickly.

"Not to be rude, Paul, but you appear to be a little old for Amethyst." 

I knew this would happen. My father was always one to point out every flaw in every situation.

"Love knows no age, Mr. Rowe."

"Philospher, aren't you?"

"No, sir. Just a musician."

"Musician? I thought you looked familiar, dear. You can't be...Paul McCartney?"

"Yes, Mrs. Rowe, I am."

"How lovely to meet you! Please, all of you come in! Who are these little ones?"

"Mum, this is Stella and James. They are Paul's children who live with us."

"Aren't you two just the cutest?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Rowe." Stella and James said at the same time.

"Well mannered, too. Come in now, it's getting cold out."

We entered the little home my parents were living in and it reminded so much of the one I grew up in in London. Same furniture, same pictures on the walls, nothing had changed. 

My mother led us all to the living room where Paul and I sat on the love seat, Mum and Dad in their separate chairs, and Stella and James sat on the rug in front of Paul and I.

"So, dear, what brings you by after all these years?"

"I just wanted to find you and see you again. I know when I left it wasn't on good terms, and I'm sorry for that, but I ask for your forgiveness and hope we can work it out."

"Of course we can, dear."

My father huffed at my mother's kind nature and leaned forward in his chair.

"So, Amethyst, how did you meet Paul?" My father questioned.

"He hired me as his secretary."

"Oh, he did now? Just a secretary? Obviously not."

"Davie!" My mother scolded.

"Well, I'm just trying to find out this man's intentions with our  daughter, Mona."

"I'm sure he is a perfectly good boyfriend to Amethyst."

"He really is. Beyond perfect, if that is possible." I told them.

My mother smiled, but I could tell that my father's interrogation was far from over.

"How old are you, Paul?"

"I'm thirty-nine, sir."

"Thirty-nine? Amethyst, how old are you again?"

"Davie, you should know your own daughter's age."

"I'm proving a point, Mona."

"I'm twenty."

"Let's see, there are nineteen years between you, which when calculated, is too many."