Sweet Love #Wattys2016

3 - Hello, California

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The man beside me won't stop snoring. Loud ugly snores too. I've been trying my best to ignore him but it's beyond impossible. And to top things off, the little boy behind me won't stop kicking my seat and putting up a fuss. I glance out the airplane window as an attempt to distract me from the whiny kid's constant complaints.

"Mommy, mommy are we almost there yet?" I hear the boy ask.

"Almost Gavin. We just have another hour to go." his mother responds.

Gavin sends another hard kick to the back of my seat. "No! I want to be there now!" I can only imagine the lunatic growl plastered on his face. He shoots a few more blows forward. I can't help but turn around.

"Gavin stop!" his mother looks at me, frowning. "You're kicking this poor girl in the back. Say sorry right now."

Gavin sticks his tongue out at his mother, then at me. "NO!"

She scolds her son then turns to face me again. "I'm so sorry. He's a little moody today."

A little?

"No worries, it's alright." I force a smile. Little Gavin deserves more then a scolding, but I'm not one to say so.

She sends a faint smile my way before returning her attention back to her disobedient son who now has his arms crossed tightly over his chest and a pout frozen on his lips.

I pull my headphones back over my ears and try to focus on the movie playing across from me.

Just one more hour to go, I keep repeating to myself.

I wake up to people shuffling out of their seats. I didn't realize I had drifted off.

"Mommy! Are we here?" I cran my neck around to see an enormous grin curved on little Gavin's mouth. He seems to be in a much better mood now.

"Yes Gavin, we're finally here." his mother pats him on the shoulder with a tired smile then reaches for her carry on.

We're here?

Ohmigosh.

We're here.

I immediately spring from my seat, glancing out of the small airplane window. Ground. Solid ground looks back at me. I'm finally here, in California.

But automatically, a slight frown plays it's way onto my lips.

I'm one step closer to seeing my dad.

When I'm finally off the plane and have retrieved my luggage, I stand awkwardly in the centre of the lobby with both hands stuffed deep into my pockets. My dad should be here any minute. Any minute. I bite the corner of my lip. I'm sweating like a nervous wreck. Wait. This is my father we're talking about. If anything, he's the one who should be nervous. He's the one who left me and suddenly wants me back in his life for the summer. I straighten my back so I look taller, the first thing I want him to see is my confident side.

Minutes pass and I'm still standing in the lobby.

Where is he?

I pull my phone from my carry on and search for my dad's number in my contact list.

I'm just about to call him when someone in the distance catches my attention. A middle-aged man dressed in a black and white tuxedo holds a sign that has my name written in bold letters.

I squint my eyes towards him. He's tall, slim and seems to be slightly graying in the hair. But he's not my father. He can't be.

I slowly begin towards the imposter, hauling the luggage cart alongside me.

The man lowers the sign when I come into view. "Aria Scott?" he asks in a deep British accent. He's definitely not my dad.

I raise an eyebrow. "Yes. And you are?"

"Gregory Parks. I'm your father's butler."

Butler?

I don't realize I said it out loud until Gregory nods his head. "I've been asked by your father to escort you to his home from the airport." he motions towards my suitcases. "Let me help you with your bags."

I'm still stuck in awe as Gregory begins to lead me out of the airport. I force my legs to keep up with his steady pace.

My father has a butler? Since when?

I gasp out loud the moment I see Gregory begin to load my luggage into the back of a long limousine.

Gregory opens a door for me to enter through. I stumble inside. Black narrow seats greet me, along with a draft of cool breeze which I assume is from the air conditioner.

I fall back into one of the seats, grinning from ear to ear.

I could get used to this.

Gregory enters the limo and plops onto the driver's seat just as I buckle my seat belt. He notices my wide idiot smile.

"Ms.Scott have you never driven in a limousine before?"

I shake my head no. "Never in my life."

He puts the key in the ignition, after a brief chuckle to himself. The engine roars to life. "Well, there's a first for everything."

It's not until we are on the highway, driving in complete silence that it registers in my mind that he called me Ms.Scott. "Call me Aria, not Ms.Scott, that's what people call my mother."

He nods. "Alright then Ms.Aria."

Twenty minutes later, Gregory turns into an enormously long driveway, that is surrounded by yards and yards of well kept grass and a large flower garden equipped with a tremendous variety of beautiful flowers. I peer in the direction of the beach that is in walking distance.

My dad lives here?

That's when I see it. His house. My eyes widen and words get caught in my throat.