blue (book one) - h.s. ✔️ watty's 2019

chapter 17

In less than an hour, my mother has transformed the house into what looks like a housewarming party. Lavender and balloons and other decorations litter the dining area, as well as the outside entrance. The event looks elegant yet somehow informal. It's beyond my logical reasoning, so I look for the Perfectionist in search for an explanation. 

I search the dining room, patio, living room, first floor restrooms, and bedrooms before I start to get frustrated by her sudden disappearance. 

Luckily, I spot my dad in his office on the phone, and wait patiently for him to finish. 

"I don't care what the board has to say on the matter. If he were anything on the lines of exceptional, he wouldn't have made such an erroneous mistake," he states in his firm voice. 

I've heard this tone one too many times. There's a no waiting at the end of this conversation. I almost pity the poor soul on the other end. His argument is pretty much useless at this point. 

"Haven't you heard a word I've said, Miles. It's a no from me. You can either tell the board that or you can leave this conversation in search of a job!" he finishes, slamming the phone down. 

Breathing out a breath of air, he removes his eyeglasses rubbing his temple. Finally, he turns his chair around acknowledging my presence. 

"Parker, my boy! How long have you been there?" he questions, leaning back in his chair. 

"Long enough to feel sorry for the receiving end," I say walking into his open arms, kissing him on the cheek. The action reminds me of being a little boy at home, and my mood instantly dampens a bit.  

Chuckling a deep hearty laugh, he shakes both of us and explains the situation. This has always been the thing to bond my dad and I. Growing up, I'd always finish homework at school and easily get tired of reading and playing around the house, so I'd come in here and listen to my dad's work life, attentive as he'd try and explain the parts that were confusing.

Looking at him makes me proud of growing old some day. His eyes are as vibrant as ever with their emerald color. And the eye wrinkles on both sides of his eyes only add to beautify them. His hair is mostly jet black with white on the sides, giving him a sophisticated look. And although he's not standing up, I know his height to be great and his build to be even greater thanks to the gym membership I bought him two Christmases ago. 

"He deserved every bit of that for delivering my coffee cold yesterday," he continues on. 

I laugh a bit at his redundant scoldings. He always was harder on Miles though he loved the man greatly. My father will never admit it, but he knows that he could never get rid of the older man. His world would certainly fall apart if he did. 

Looking around the large workspace I take note of several minor additions that must've been just recently changed. A large, colorless globe is now standing upright in the right corner. His old white window blinds are now a mason red and the little bookshelf that was once filled with old books instead had random knick knacks from recent trips. 

My eyes rest on my dad's glasses sitting just on top the bridge of his nose.

"How's college treatin' you?" 

"It's been okay. A lot of work, really. Nothing special," I respond crisply. There's not really anything that I'm doing that would interest him to be honest. 

"You know. If I were in college, I would hate having to depend on some unreliable friend to get me places. It would make my whole college experience that much harder," he says nonchalantly. 

I mentally punch myself once I realize the trap I've fallen into. With every visit this is a constant concern of his - even though he has nothing to worry about! I've been doing just fine. 

"Dad," I groan, getting off the corner of his desk. 

"What?" he queries a little too innocently. 

"I was talking about myself. I mean, if my parents would have provided me with everything I needed in college, I could've been much happier." 

I ignore his white lie and respond to what I know is true. 

"But I am happy, dad. Really. I do appreciate all that you and mom have done for me. Trust me I do, but I just would really like to do this one thing without your guys' help,"

"Surely, that's not too much to ask for?" I say basically groveling for what feels like the millionth time. 

Taking his hands he rubs his chin for quite some time. I'm blessed to be able to get whatever I want. Just for this one time, I'd like to earn something for myself - material-wise. After what feels like an hour, he gives what I expect to be the answer I've been hearing since I first rejected the car.

"Let's make a deal. If you have a car that runs smoothly and is in good condition by the end of the year I won't meddle in this area of your life. But if you don't-,"

"Deal," I quickly rush interjecting, hugging and kissing him on the cheek before he has time to speak.

"I can promise you that I'll have my own, finely tuned car before the end of the year." 

"Alright, alright," my mom's sturdy voice declares appearing in the doorway. 

"That's enough of that. We have a party to host, dear. And the first guest have just arrived," she declares waiting patiently for my dad to escort her surely. 

Literally kicking me out of his office lightly, my dad groans audibly, which earns an eye roll from mom and follows her into the living room to greet guests.