One Day at a Time

Chapter 3 - Reasons.

          The driver opened up the door for us, and helped me out of the car. I stood, mouth opened, amazed at the sight in front of me. 

          This wasn't a house, it was a goddamn mansion.  

          There was an incredibly tall gate surrounding the grounds that my father owned. Inside, there was a white stone drive which, before actually entering the long, rectangular parking lot, had a round-a-bout, with a huge fountain with clear, blue water in the centre. Then, there was the parking lot. There was cars to the left and the right, all owned by my father. Each and every one of them were different. After walking down the middle of the car park, after the driver pulled up the limousine into an empty, elongated parking space, we stood before huge, white double doors, draped in shadows from the balcony standing above it. The rest of the house was pretty much like the White House, which was only about an hour away. 

          My father pulled out some keys from his jacket pocket and dangled them in front of his chest. "Welcome to my house. - Your new home for the next few years, Blaire." 

          My stomach twisted. How was I supposed to live here, let alone with him? I know he was trying his best to make me feel comfortable, and like he was actually around for my life, but I couldn't... I don't know. I was so used to the cramped tiny apartment we had back in London, where me and my brother shared the master bedroom, and my mother slept on the sofa because there wasn't any more beds. This was so much different. How could my father leave us with that, when he was here, living his best life?

          "This will never be my home, father. My home is in London." I snapped. "Hell - my home isn't even a home! It's my mother and brother!" 

          I pulled my hands from my jean pockets and crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to breath the same air as him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, turning around to unlock the door. When it opened, I forgot my grudge, and gasped. There was a huge imperial staircase in the centre of the room, with two corridors heading off in the two different directions. In between the staircases was a table. It had a bouquet flowers in a fancy marble jar on top of it, with a huge picture hanging above it. I was half expecting there to be him alone, surrounded by paparazzi, on the opening day of his Law Firm, cutting the red ribbon. But, no. Instead it was a family picture. 

          There was a woman, standing next to my father, arms linked, with a daughter who looked no older than I was standing beside the woman, and a younger daughter, clutching a teddy bear in her arms , standing in front of my dad. I was taken aback by this and gasped. This was why he had to return. He had another family, another wife. My mother was nothing but a little side girlfriend to him.

          He obviously didn't notice me giving him the death stare when he looked at me, or he chose to ignore it, because he just continued speaking. "The archway to your left heads to the kitchen and dining area, the one on your right is the living area and my study. There are several bathrooms throughout the house." He looked at the top of the staircase. "My daughter, Vanessa, will show you around. She is a year older than you, and studying at the same university." 

          I followed his gaze, and I saw a beautiful girl. The same one in the photo, smiling obediently next to her mother. She had brown, so dark it was almost black, hair trailing over her shoulders in curls, the first layer pinned back behind her head, and my father's grassy green eyes. She had a warm, welcoming smile, and already had smile lines on her cheeks. Her nose was soft, similar to mine, but her eyes were bold and wide; she wore minimal makeup and the little bits she wore were perfectly done. 

          "This is Vanessa, Blaire. She is my eldest daughter. You will meet my other daughter, Trinity, tomorrow, at breakfast, along with my wife, Jeanine." 

          He strode off to the right archway, towards the study, my guess was. My eyes followed him out, and as he disappeared around the corner, Vanessa started walking down the staircase. I looked at her, wide-eyed, as he left. 

          When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she looked at me with the same, warm smile she wore in the picture, and waved. "Hello. Blaire, I'm guessing?" She spoke a little bit like a robot, programmed to say these things. 

         "Yes." I said, attempting to return her smile. "And you're Vanessa, like father just said."

         "Ugh, Vanessa, such a posh and fancy name. Please call me Nessa, I prefer it." She said. This time it wasn't robotic, more like she was speaking her mind. "Only mum and dad call me Vanessa, not even Trinity does." She rolled her eyes with her smile still spread across her face. "Oh, and Uncle Mason calls me Vanessa too, but he calls me poppet, most of the time."

         I laughed a little, my tense muscles relaxing as I did. I realised I was holding the good bag. I lifted it up, so she could see it. "Oh, yeah, anywhere I can put this?"

         Nessa nodded, and lead me to the kitchen, where Jeanine stood, buttering some toast plainly with some jam. At least there taste isn't plain. She showed me the rubbish and Then sat me down at the counter, next to a girl with pink pyjamas and a teddy bear huddled in her arms. Trinity.

         "Mum!" She complained, drowning her words out. "Please hurry up, I'm hungry."

         "Be patient, darling. Maybe you shouldn't demand supper before bed!" 

         Trinity didn't even realise I was sat there until Jeanine turned around and said, "Oh, you must be Blaire! James told me his daughter was going to stay for a little while whilst doing her studies, but I didn't know you were going to be quite this pretty!" She spoke calmly with the same smile Nessa held, whilst passing jam toast on a marble plate to Trinity. "Would you like some too?" 

         I shook my head. "No thanks, I'm good." I yawned. "I'm pretty tired though, I'm thinking I will just go to bed," 

         "Oh yes, you must be exhausted from the long journey. How was the flight?" 

         I was about to answer when Vanessa interrupted and said, "Mum, I'm sure she'll tell you all about London and such tomorrow morning at breakfast. I'll show you your bedroom, Blaire."  I nodded gratefully to Vanessa. I didn't feel like talking right now; all I wanted was sleep. 

         Nessa lead me out of the room, with her mum cursing her for interrupting me behind us. She took me up a staircase and onto the little landing thing, conjoining the stairs. There was a few steps up to the corridors that headed in each direction to the bedrooms and such.

         "Your bedroom is on the right, third door down." She smiled, and continued speaking. "Mine is next to yours, on the left, so don't be hesitant to knock if you need anything."  

         I walked to my bedroom door, and turned the key in the lock to unlock it. Taking the key out, I opened the door. My jaw dropped open again, making my beautiful face ugly. This house hasn't ceased to amaze me at all.

          The door was placed on the right of the front wall, so when you walked in, you saw the side of a white, glossy dresser with another bouquet of flowers placed in the middle of it. A beautiful abstract but modern painting hung over it. Opposite the dresser was an amazing king-sized bed that had a grey fabric frame and white covers. My first thought was 'That's going to be a b***h to clean when I get my period during the night.' But, my second thought was that it was going to be amazing to sleep on, and that beat the last one. There was two matching bedside tables either side of my bed, the same colour and material to my dresser, with pretty marble lamps. Over the bed hung another modern abstract art canvas. On the wall where the door was, there was a marble desk with a computer, similar to the one in my father's office, and some books. next to it was a bookcase with books and photo frames with pictures of me and Cooper, me and mother and us all together. 

          Next to the left side of my bed, close to the bedside table, was an archway that entered into a walk-in-wardrobe, already filled with clothes and shoes... everything I could want was in there. There was even a vanity desk with makeup filing neatly into all of the drawers! I noticed that on the right wall was a door. Through that door was an en suite. The floor was marble, like the rest of this house, and the walls had the most amazing tiles I had ever seen. There was a step-in shower with a glass door, and a corner-bathtub with jets and bubbles just like a hot tub. It was much better than the scabby one in my apartment in London.

         There was another door, adjoining it to my bedroom, which was the door on the other side of my bed. I walked out of the bathroom, not being able to wait to sleep. So, I unpacked my suitcases, which had been brought up by the driver, into the dresser and changed into my pyjamas. The wall opposite to the one with the entrance door was just glass. The window overlooked the beautiful city, and I couldn't help but stare at it for a few minutes. The house was on top of a hill and I was so tired that I didn't even realise we were driving uphill in the limousine. Or maybe it was the champagne.

         Closing the blinds, I clambered into bed, knowing that it was going to be the best night sleep I have ever had.