Inspiration

24) Her

Between the play and Blake staying over, yesterday was a very long one. Though I was able to act, I was still worried that dad might not like it. Mom would have been thrilled even if I sang, though I am tone-deaf, my father is the one hard to please.

"You can actually act!" He exclaimed when he saw me.

A smile was magically formed on my face; he liked it!

He cleared his throat, "I thought that you were bluffing with all the acting stuff, but you are not bad at all."

Mom took me in a big hug saying how proud she was of me.

"What about the play, dad, did you like it too?" I asked, biting my lower lip, hoping that he would say something good about Blake.

He rolled his eyes, "if you are asking about Blake, he is not a very bad writer."

I giggled and hugged him tightly; I was glad that he liked the play!

Meeting Kristen again was strange. Though I have to say, I liked the way that Blake handled the situation.

When I go down for breakfast, dad is already having his coffee while reading the newspaper, and mom prepares breakfast, Blake is nowhere to be seen.

"Good morning!" I say going to help mom.

"Morning, love" mom chirps then winks, "did you sleep well?"

I frown, and dad interrupts, "I don't like that wink, why did you wink? What happened? Should I bring the baseball bat?"

"No," both mom and I shout.

I sigh, "I don't know why you winked, but I slept soundly and alone."

She tilts her head, "but Blake's bed is empty."

Dad chocks on his coffee as the doorbell rings.

"I will get it," I say, happy with the distraction.

When I open the door, I find Blake shaved, clean and in new clothes.

Though we have been working together for months, this is the first time I have seen him without a jacket. He is wearing a purple one with black stripes as if it's paint scattered on it with black jeans and his grey scarf; he can't live without a scarf.

"Are you done staring, Harp?" He says with a raised eyebrow and his signature smirk.

I shake my head and move away so he can enter, "sorry."

He kisses my cheek, "it's OK; I liked that look in your eyes."

I didn't know that my cheeks could become even redder.

"Have you read what critics are saying about the play?" He asks with a wide smile.

I shake my head, "No, I just woke up."

"Good morning, Mr and Mrs Jones," Blake salutes going to his seat next to me, "by tomorrow, your daughter would be more famous than Meryl Streep."

We spent breakfast talking about what critics said about the play. Most of the comments were positive though my freezing moment didn't go unnoticed by the critics. Then the conversation turned to that damned barbecue party, and my stomach churned. Having that party means that all of our relatives and friends will be there, it means that he will be there.

I look at Blake; he is preparing things with dad. God, I love him! I never realized how important he is to me until now, and I am still keeping things away from him. Damn my stupidity!

As time passes, people start arriving, smiling and congratulating, and the pain in my stomach just keeps increasing.

I hand Blake a glass of lemonade and a kiss on the cheek, "you have been working very hard."