Promise Me to Please | Please Me #2

After a four-and-a-half-hour flight and twenty-minute uber ride, I finally ended up outside my front door, suitcase in tow.

  My dad was more than excited to have me visit for a couple days and the minute I rang the doorbell, he opened up with a huge smile, pulling me into a warm hug.

   "It's so good to see you, honey." He held me tighter, almost cutting off my airflow but I didn't mind. Last time I saw my dad was during the holidays, so I'd been missing his bear hugs and musky cologne every now and then.

   "It's good to see you too, dad." I choked out the words, trying to breathe from the lack of air circulation to my lungs.

  Thankfully, he let me go and took a step back. "Gosh, you're freezing, applesauce, let's get this all inside." He stepped forward to grab my suitcase. I held onto my carryon, trudging inside from the snow.

  I thought New York was bad, God, here was so much worse.

   "You didn't have to take the day off work to help me with my suitcase." I joked, closing the door, letting the warmth seep into my skin.

  My dad laughed, "Well, it's good thing I actually wanted to see you too."

  I rolled my eyes, taking off my coat, scarf, and gloves, kicking off my boats and then throwing off the sweater I used to layer up. Despite my hated for this kind of weather, I had prepared for it.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see a message from Leah.

LEAH: all tucked in for a movie night.

  She sent me a picture of Piggy happily wrapped in one of my blankets on Leah's bed. From her laptop in the background, I spotted She's The Man on the screen.

  I decided to leave Piggy in Leah's safe hands because who knows what Ezekiel would be like if I left him alone with Piggy. Besides, Piggy had warmed to Leah over the last couple months, so it was alright to leave her behind for a short amount of time.

  It was better than getting her on a plane, last time she almost attacked a man who got up to go to the bathroom.

  I sent a quick reply and left the foyer into the kitchen. Our house was styled like a French country house with big windows, antique touches, and light colours with black accents here and there. It was mainly my mom's doing when they first moved in here decades ago. My dad hadn't changed a single thing.

   "How was the flight?" he asked me, already pouring a cup of coffee. He knew me all too well.

   "Only a slight bit of turbulence. I was lucky, though, some flights had been cancelled due to the snow." I sat down at the kitchen island.

  My dad hummed and slid me over the fresh, steaming mug of coffee. "We do get it bad up here."

   "Tell me about it." I chuckled. "Did you get someone to shovel the driveway?"

   "Nope. Did it myself."

   "Dad..." I sighed.

   "What?! It keeps me young." It will break his back in a couple of years. But he was stubborn, like me, so there wasn't much I could say. Which reminded me of one of the reasons I was here.

   "Have you had anyone round lately?" I pretended to focus on my coffee, keeping my tone light-hearted.

   "You know me, honey, I love my own company too much." In other words, no.

  I wrapped my hands around the mug, letting it warm my palms. "True." How was I supposed to bring this up? Oh, hey Dad, Mom thinks you should start dating again. Like who says that?