On My Way To Mr. Right

Chapter 15

"Mom, I'm going out tonight, is that okay?" I fiddled with my curls, waiting for her answer. I don't usually go out at night and this would be one of the very few times I go to.

"Where are you going?" She came into the room with one hand on her hip and a curious look.

"To Bea's. Her dad wants to meet us," I pleaded with my eyes.

She held a stare for a moment before giving in. "Alright, it's fine by me. But make sure to ask your dad." She left the room muttering something along the lines of "I get in a lot of trouble when you don't tell him."

I guess it was true. When I go out, I always 'forget' to ask dad. It's not that I resent him or anything. It's just that he's much more on the stricter side and he doesn't approve of my habits that much.

But mom and dad are the most supportive parents. Considering they're the only ones I have. Mom has always been the one to help me out when dad gets on my back.

I went to dad's office where I found him sprawled on his desk, documents in hand. I went the formal way and knocked on the already open door.

"Daddy?" I was a daddy's princess. But that never stopped dad from disciplining me and grounding me for one whole month (when he first found out I was dating someone).

"Charlotte," he looked up, taking off his glasses. "Just the girl I was looking for."

I laughed nervously. "Oh, you were looking for me?"

"You don't have any plans for the weekends, do you?" I shook my head. "Can I take you out on Sunday?"

I nodded instantly. Maybe that'll get me to his good side tonight. "Oh, of course, dad. What for, by the way?"

"My company's having a father-daughter event and considering you're my only daughter, I guess you have no choice about turning me down," he chuckled.

"Well, I wasn't going to anyway," I smiled and hugged him sideways. Then they blew the bomb. "Dad, can I go out tonight?"

He sighed and I looked at him and saw him rubbing his temples. "So that's why you're here."

"That's why I'm here," I confirmed. I glanced at the clock above him. It read six-five. Bea told me to come at six.

"Where are you off to?" He asked a little too calmly.

"The Baxter residence," I told him honestly. I'm already almost there. I don't need to lie. Besides, I don't think he's still mad at Mr. Baxter. They have a history together. And not the best one at that.

"The Baxter residences?" I nodded my head. "I hope you know how much I resent David Baxter."

"Dad, that was three years ago. Besides, you're not going to see him, are you?" I beamed at him. He could never resist my smiles.

"But still, I'm going to see him when I drop you over."

"Daddy, can't you just give me this one-" I widened my eyes. He's dropping me over?

"Does it mean I'm allowed?" I tugged at him excitedly.

"Yes, but I'm picking you up at ten-thirty." He said sternly.

"Thank you, dad! You're the best," I shouted, grinning excitedly as I went out of the room.

"Remember Sunday, sweetie!" He shouted after me.

"Yes, daddy!"

I did a little happy dance when dad was no longer in sight. I hopped to my room with a grin plastered on my face. This is going to be the best night!

A few moments later, I was sliding inside dad's pickup truck. It's one of his favorites. He says it's "vintage". But really, it's just old. I'm not complaining though 'cos he's driving me to where I had to be fifteen minutes from the past.

"Is this going to be a party?" He inquired in the middle of the drive.

"No, just a sort of dinner." I smiled.

"Sort of dinner?"

"We're going swimming at night afterward."

"Oh," he went silent for a little while. "You know, it's not too late to turn around. Your mother's making some finely mashed potatoes. I know how much you love them." He turned to me and wiggled his brows.

I scrunched my face, laughing. "Dad, I'm sure Mrs. Baxter prepared a fine meal as well. After all, she is a renowned cook."

After reassuring him that he wouldn't be poisoned, Mr. Baxter would probably not take his hatred towards my father to me, dad let me go. And because of that, I left a sweet kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, dad. This means a lot."

I knocked on the door and moments afterward the door opened. By my least liked person in this household. Trixie Baxter. She sighed on seeing me and closed the door. But I stop it from closing with my hand. Annoying brat.

"Hey, Trix," I faked a smile at her. Remember, be nice.

"Charlotte, I'm glad you're here," she said dryly, sarcasm dripping in her voice. God how much I despise her. "Bea's waiting for you in her room."

"Thanks," she left and didn't bother telling me directions. "I guess." At least she gave me some info. It's better than having to find Bea all over a house I'm not familiar with.

I looked for the stairwell, guessing that it had to be upstairs. That's where most bedrooms are. But, there was no stairwell. I vaguely remember this house having a second floor. Maybe I'm imagining someone else's. After all, I haven't been here since third grade.

There weren't many people aside from Mrs. Baxter, who was cooking in the kitchen, and Trixie, who was watching television in the living room. I wandered a little more around the house, determined to find Bea's room without Trixie's help. I could do without her sarcastic remarks.

It's been five minutes and I have found the basement and the guest rooms, but not Bea's room. I'm thinking of giving up.

There's no shame in asking, right?

I made my way to the living room, finding Trixie napping on the couch. Okay, that leaves me with no option, I guess.

"Umm, Mrs. Baxter," I called to a very busy woman in the kitchen. She glanced at me and smiled a heartwarming smile.

"Oh yes, dear?" She didn't leave her work and focused entirely on the sizzling vegetables in the pan.

"Excuse me for asking, but I sort of can't find Bea's room."

"Oh that's supposed to be Trixie's job," she muttered. "I'm sorry for my daughter's rudeness, dear. Beatrice's room is on the right of a dimly lit hallway. Take a left from here and you'll see the basement. From there, take a straight, then a right." She told me.

I did as she said and found a room where the door had scribblings. It read, "BB's lounge" with a star on the end. Since when did my friend become a celebrity?

I barged in without feeling the need to knock. I feel right at home.

Or not.