Chapter 16: Ding Dong dresses and Wedding Bells
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"Would you please get that thing away from my face, Katherine? Or so help me, I will not buy you anymore of those." my father threatened.
I pout moodily and put my camera down, crossing my arms in front of me. "But it's so booooring! You just sit around and read...stuff." I crinkled my nose in mock disgust.
He smiled and ruffled my hair, automatically swatting it away from me. "This 'stuff', as you put it, gets the food on the table and into your colossal stomach."
I rolled my eyes. It was typical of my father to bring his work home, always the workaholic. I didn't argue with him any further because I knew that his work did feed us and put a roof over our heads. Dad was very dedicated to his work, working at the top law firm right out of graduation. He's a taciturn and scary looking man when on court-trust me, I have seen him during one of me and my mom's impromptu visits-but sweet, protective and funny when at home or not working.
I peered down on the bunch of paper he was reading, trying to get a look of what case he was handling. My eyes widen in surprise as I realized what it was. "George's handing the diner down?! That is insanity!" I roared.
Dad gave me a disproving look. "The diner will be in good hands, sugar. His daughter just finished business school and would be returning with her older brother, you know, Jay, to help. You kids used to play around the neighborhood when you were four."
I sighed, "Dad, that's like, eighteen years ago. That part of my memory has cobwebs already."
"He's a good kid, only older by a year. You idolized and followed him around so much that it was hard to pry you off of him!" he recalled, his eyes growing distant by the minute.
"Okay..." I dragged out, unsure of what I was supposed to respond with. I didn't understand the ecstatic look on my father's face as he thought of my wild days. I was still upset about the idea of George, the owner of The Old American Diner, to pass it on to his children. (A/N: I did talk about George on Chapter 3 right? If not, just don't mind him. He's not that important...yet. *wink wink* ;D)
My father turned to me, setting the papers down inside his opened briefcase on the coffee table. He smiled slyly, turning his full attention towards me. I only raised an eyebrow to his sudden full on attention.
"What? Why are you smiling at me like that? Seriously, Dad, it's creeping me out." I asked, dumbfounded.
He jerked his head towards me. "Its been awhile since I saw or heard from Eric. The both of you still getting it on?"
"Dad, three days isn't that long, and what do you mean about 'getting it on'?" I deadpan.
He gives me an innocent look, only with a twitch of his lips upward. "What? The both of you are still in the honeymoon phase, I'm surprised you guys can keep your hands to yourselves. I remember when me and your mom were just starting, we couldn't get out of the house. Let alone our room..."
I felt my all the blood leave my face as I paled, realizing what my father was implying. "Oh. My. God. Dad, that is so gross! Too much info... Yeesh!" I shook my head, fighting off the horrid pictures my mind has painted.
Mom came out of the kitchen, still wearing her 'Hell's Kitchen Personnel' apron; expression excited, no doubt, by our topic. I facepalmed myself mentally, knowing I cannot escape this time. I groaned, "Mom! Don't do this. Please? Spare me your embarrassing 'talks'. Have mercy!"
