The Bad News

1115 Words
I barely slept when I heard the alarm. Crap! I opened my eyes to the unfamiliar surroundings. Then it dawned on me. Today is my first day at Ashton Greene's home. I dragged myself to the bathroom as my mind played on the conversation I had with my parents just last week. My parents have left to attend a series of business dealings abroad. "Natasha, honey?" I paid attention to my 45-year-old dad, Jeremy Collins. My father stands at 5'10". He started growing his gray hair in his late 30s and has kept the same short hairstyle since his hairline started to recede. I noticed how his hazel-brown eyes pleaded. I knew that I might not like whatever he was going to say. "Uhm...yes, dad?" He glanced at my mom, who was putting a slice of my favorite red velvet cake on the plate. "You guys are killing me. What is it?" I asked impatiently. "Well, honey. Do you know how, a few years back, the presence of online shopping platforms helped our furniture business to expand its reach?" I knew my dad was serious when I noticed the crease between his browse. Then he pressed his lips together before he threw a pleading look at my mom. I rolled my eyes when he did not answer. "Yes. It paved our way to the global market. So?" I feigned a smile. I wondered where this conversation was going. I am currently in my last year as a Business Administration and Marketing student at a university. Our family's online store was originally a product of a marketing project I had in one of my classes. "And?" I looked at my mom, Julia Collins. Julia is the same age as my dad, a brunette who stands at 5'7" and has eyes the same light brown color as mine. If my memory serves me right, I have not seen her hair grow beyond her shoulders. She has had her hair colored, straightened, and curled. But they were almost always the same length. "The global market demand is constantly increasing. And we're thinking about expanding abroad." my mom smiled at my dad. "Well, isn't that good news?" I still don't understand where this conversation is heading. My dad interrupted my thoughts. "Well, honey. We are flying abroad. And we might be gone for at least six months. You know, to attend a series of meetings with possible local suppliers. We also have to comply with the other business requirements of the country." "We also need to supervise the establishment of the local office and the shop. Not to add the training and the hiring of local employees." My mom added. Tears began to well up in my eyes. At least six months? The longest they've been away from a business trip was two weeks. And nothing more than that. "Mom, should you go too?" "You know your dad, dear. Most of the time, he's more of a baby than you are." My dad rolled his eyes. "Besides, honey, as much as we love you and want you to stay with us, you're graduating this semester. And we don't want to mess with that, do we?" My mom put her hands into mine. "Maybe this is also the best time for you to learn some independence." she waved her hands in the air, looked at my dad, and then continued, "And probably explore the management of our business?" My heart sank. It is partly true. All my peers live in an apartment, work part-time, and pay their bills. On the other hand, I am a 23-year-old woman who still lives in my room at my parent's house. Though I have started "working" as part of the administrative staff in our company since graduating from high school, I have heard gossip about how my salary was probably just my allowance. They said I earn way better than the senior administrative employee. "I understand," I said with a playful smile. I leaned over the counter and teased, "How soon can I invite my friends to weekend parties?" I grinned. My parents exchanged worried glances. I sensed the hesitation in my mom's voice when she spoke. "Well, dear. Though I trust that you're not going to do anything of that sort, I'm afraid you can't do that." Dad scratched his balding forehead. Then he said, "No, honey. Your mom is right. You can't do that." He glanced at my mom again, widened his eyes, and then said, "Not with Ashton around." My jaws dropped. "What? Do you mean Ashton, your friend's son Ashton Greene?" I looked at my mom. "Mom, I thought you said this is to learn how to be independent?" "Well, dear. Ashton is a family friend. The one we trusted the most. So we figured that while we want you to be independent, he seems to be the right person to look after you while we're gone." "He's our business partner too." My dad added. "So while we're away, we asked him to teach you about our business operations." "I am 22! An adult! I don't think I need a guardian at this age." I let out a desperate sigh. My dad took another worried look at my mom. "There's more to this arrangement, right?" I asked. "I am sorry, dear." My mom grasped my hands. " We know you can be a little rebellious, and should we say immature? So we thought Ashton should stay with you and use one of our rooms." My dad smirked. "But he said he couldn't." Yes! I might have rejoiced prematurely. Dad shook his head amidst his chuckle. "Honey, I wouldn't be so happy if I were you." He pressed his lips again. "While he can't move here, he asked if you could live in his house instead. You know, his house, his rules." I felt nervousness creep into my system. Please tell me you said no. "And we said yes." My mom said. "What?" I said louder than I intended to. Did I hear them right? How can they say yes? Do they trust Ashton that much? "Mom...Dad! Ugh! Do you realize that you're leading me straight to the lion's den, right?" I pouted my lips. "Sometimes I wonder if you love me." "You know we do, honey. You know we do." My dad pulled me into a hug and kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry, dear." Mom approached me and gave me an embrace. I heard hurried footsteps outside of my room which took me to the present time. I glanced at the door, sighed, and stared again at the ceiling. I kicked my feet in the air, frustrated by the situation.
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