Paintbrush

Paintbrush part II

 For the wonderful cover at the side... (:

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After waving goodbye to Jaime (and giving him a big slap on his arm when he gave an exaggerated "Woah!" after seeing how huge my house was), I walked down the pebbled pathway to the main wooden door. The yellow lamp beside it was already turned on, lighting up the brick walls.

Rummaging through my bag for the keys, I took a deep breath before finally entering the house. The white glow of the living room greeted me, making it all seemed all right, but I knew better.

"Why were you out so late, young lady?" my mother asked, frowning. She was sitting on the living room sofa. "It's almost dinner."

"Erm. Sorry mom. I'll... I'll just go and wash up," I replied, my eyes darting about, searching.

My mother sighed. "Just hurry up. Your dad is already waiting at the dining hall. His temper's already building up."

Damn. I was so hoping he wasn't around and was still at work. Quickly, I climbed up the stairs two at a time, praying hard that my initiative of trying to please him will help to lessen his suspicions. The last time I was late, I made the wrong move by telling him the truth. I didn't want the reprimands and shouting to happen again.

Finally, I walked into the dining room. I've always liked this room. My grandmother helped to paint the walls with intricate designs, making the room very effective in making anyone eating here feel at peace. But somehow, it didn't work on everyone, and I've got the proof right in front of me. The deep frown on his face told the whole story.

"Hey dad, sorry I'm late," I said as I sat down on the chair directly opposite his, my heart beating hard in my chest.

"Let's just eat," he said monotonously, picking up his bowl of rice and the pair of ebony chopsticks.

The three of us ate in silence. I know, it would have been so much better if I had a smaller sibling around who might just be able to help in making the atmosphere more vivacious, but it was wishful thinking. I was the only child.

When he suddenly placed the utensils on the table and stopped eating, I met my mother's nervous glance.

Lacing his fingers together, he started the interrogation. "What's your reason?"

"I was... helping my friends in the entrepreneur club. They know that I'm the daughter of the boss of the most famous business in town, and wanted to know how to... er... get about with things. They... wanted to know my opinions, and wanted me to give them tips and some advice on how to... deal with the upcoming sale they're going to have," I said, a little bit too hesitantly. This was not good. Not good at all. I did not have enough time to memorise the script I crafted as I was on the way home.

He raised an eyebrow, and continued to stare intensely. My eyes remained unblinking. I was not going to let anything slip.

Seeming to be convinced, my dad let his hands relax and gave a smile, something known to be rare. "Good to know that, Lily. You're finally on the way to becoming the next boss," he said jovially. Then becoming stern again, he said, "Now I'm telling you again though, you're going to stop with all the painting right after you graduate, when you're older, all right? No more of all the nonsense. You get me?" 

I gave a nod, a smile plastered on my face.

He chuckled. "That's my girl."

I was going to show him. When I win the competition, I will make him take back his words, I thought with determination.