The Art of Finding Love

Chapter Two

Aspen approached her family home in Hillsboro. It was a two story white house, something her father would describe as a cookie-cutter-home. They had moved in in February. Aspen liked it, she and both of her sisters were able to have their own rooms, and hers was the farthest away from her parents'.

When they had moved in, Aspen had begged her mom for a lock on her bedroom door. Her sisters had a habit of stealing her shoes, makeup, accessories, and whatever else they could get their greedy little hands on and Aspen had reached her wits end. It seemed as if everyday she was shouting down the hall, demanding her things back and in general-being a jerk. 

Aspen also wanted privacy. She was nineteen! Legally, she was considered an adult and entitled to her own privacy. Her parents had made her pay for most of her things anyway, excluding car insurance and her medical coverage. She deserved to have her space be her own! Jenna had caved, agreeing with Aspen that it was time she be allowed to have a lock on her door.

 Aspen's dad, Jethro had fought with her mother. He didn't feel she needed one. Jethro figured it would just give Aspen an excuse to hide things, or have boys in her room. The number one rule in the house was no boys upstairs. With 3 teenage daughters, he had made it very clear that there would be no leniency regarding that rule. 

Aspen pulled into the driveway of the house. She parked between her dad's Ford truck and her mom's Ford Edge. She was the odd man out, car wise. Her tiny Dodge used to be her father's commuter car when they lived in Washington, and Aspen was given the opportunity to buy it when she was sixteen for fifteen hundred dollars. Oddly though, her parents never signed over the title to the car. Aspen figured they wanted to keep it since she would probably give her car to her sister when she was old enough, anyway. The agreement had been they would buy it back from her one day.

She shut off the engine and engaged the parking brake. She stepped out of the car, bumping her head on the low ceiling of the car. This happened often, the car was very small. She rubbed the spot on her head, undoubtedly messing up her perfectly straightened blonde hair. She heaved her purse on her arm and approached the door.

Jethro had an obsession with wanted to make a fully automated home system. Funnily enough, he only ever got as far as the door. It had an automated key lock and keypad. A regular house key wasn't required at all. She entered the code to the door and opened it with a little shove. It tended to stick on wet days. 

 As she walked into the long hall of the house with the sitting room off to the right and the stairs off to the left, she looked around for anyone that could be hanging around. Her mom worked from home, and her dad worked nights. He slept during the day and her mom required silence to do her outbound calls to London.

Luckily, her mom wasn't on the phone. "Hey, baby!" she said, when Aspen made her way down the hall and passed the double door entry way to the sitting room. 

"Hey! How's your day?" Aspen asked. Her mom sighed and didn't glance away from her computer. That was the norm. Aspen thought her mom was so good at multitasking that she wondered if she ever did just one thing. 

"So fucking busy. This company wants me to fill three hundred positions in the next year and honestly, their demand is too high from what's available." Her mom went on a rant about the company she worked for and why she couldn't get through to them about their high and impossible demands.

"How was your day, baby?" She asked. Aspen shrugged her shoulders. Most days were the same when you worked for the bank.

"It was the same as usual. Slow. Brittany and I talked most of the day. It was just the two of us, and Jules was hiding out in the drive-up so we didn't see her all day. That's about it, unless you want me to go into detail about how we balance the vault." Aspen sat down in the one recliner in the room. Her mom looked around the computer with a large grin on her face.