Can't Help Myself

9.) Honour

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Short Chapter

"Good morning Dad." I approached my father, giving him a hug. He smiled at me.

"Hey big girl." He rubbed my round 5 month pregnant stomach where me and Kieron's daughter rested healthy and growing every day. "That new bed do you any good?" He questioned, raising his coffee mug to his lips, staring at me for an answer.

I released a breath before smiling. "It was great Dad, thank you so much." We talked a bit longer before he had to leave to run errands, informing me he wouldn't be home until this evening. This was a usual thing for him so I just said okay and let him go. "Ms. Theresa." I singsonged, looking for my father's house keeper of the past couple years and my caretaker the past few months.

"Yes Honour?" Hearing her voice from above I looked up, she was looking down at me from the grand staircase. I smiled at her.

"Take a break, come spend time with me." She nodded and started to come down the stairs. "Wait! Could you get my phone from my room, please? If it's not on the nightstand try looking underneath my pillow."

"Okay."

"Thank you!" I called out, going to the pantry in search of something quick for me to eat.

"Here you are hermosa." Startled, I turned around to Ms. Theresa holding my phone out to me. My left hand on my stomach, I thanked her and grabbed the phone with my right. She looked behind me into the closet. "I hope you aren't thinking of eating a pop tart for breakfast?" She knew me to well.

I groaned with a smile. "I don't feel like cooking, and I don't want to bother you." She looked at me as if to say get real. This has always been an issue with us, me never letting her do what she's getting paid to do. I just don't feel the need for someone to cater to me when I was capable of doing it myself. Ms. Theresa has been there for me since I was 13, when my parents divorced and my mom moved to a different city, leaving me with my workaholic father. But I stopped letting her do for me when I turned 16 and she hated it.

"Honour, why don't you and the bebé  go have a seat and find something to watch on the televisión?" She suggested, her hands on my shoulders as she guided me away from the kitchen closet. I could tell her patience was getting thin and my feelings were more sensitive than usual so I just did as she said. It's not necessarily the things she says that get to me, but more so her tone of voice when she does.

"Could I still have my pop tart though?" She inhaled and exhaled through her nose, and I almost just walked away. But I really wanted a snack if she was gonna cook up something and I had to wait. "Por favor  Ms. Theresa." I clasped my hands together, begging at this point.

She sighed, "You can have a manzana or a plátano." She looked like she didn't even want me to gve me the choice to have a apple or banana. Either way I was happy to have something. "You know I don't like you eating sweets before actual food. Now hurry before I change my mind." She finally smiled at me. I thanked her and kissed her cheek, we were about the same height.

With my choice of a banana, I walked into the living room and took a seat on the sectional. Before fully getting comfortable, I pulled my blanket off the arm of the chair, a small bag fell on my lap. Looking inside, I saw items that made my heart leap. "Honour why did that sound like a plastic bag? You better not have any el piscolabis!" Her voice sounded like it was getting closer so I quickly tied the bag closed as quietly as I could and stuffed it into the sofa. There was Snyder's hot buffalo wing pretzels, a yellow bag of M&M's, and a small remainder of an already open bag of Takis in that little black bag and they shall not be confiscated from me.