Andrea studied the ticket in her hand. The Rosefields recently just paved their way into the entrepreneurial scene and Ariadne had never gone a week without her name not being in a tabloid but Andrea never thought that the Rosefields have money enough to just give out a ticket to a private jet.
She felt that there is something weird about it, well, not just something considering she never had a chance to be all friendly with Ariadne because she had always been surrounded by shrouds of other socialites who's still waiting for their parents to step off their positions or they just mooch hard earned money off their parents' wallet.
Andrea sighed, "Ariadne seems nice," she told herself and with another long stare at the ticket, she put it down on her living room's coffee table and went to her room to prepare her things.
Halfway through her packing and with a lot of time to spare, her doorbell rang for the second time.
Andrea felt shock and anger flood through her body as she laid eyes on her mother standing in front of her when she opened her door.
"What do you want?" she asked as she looked at Pamela.
Ever since she can remember, there had never come a day when Andrea saw her mother in such an awful state, and seeing that Pamela looks horrifyingly awful with her face looking ages ahead of her time and clothes that Andrea never saw her mother wore, Andrea felt a tiny squeeze in her heart.
"Andrea, honey, I'm so sorry," Pamela cried and the tears that she had been holding up inside her bursted out of their docks, Pamela collapsed but Andrea was quick enough to hold her mother.
"I'm so sorry, honey. Please forgive me," Pamela murmured over and over again as Andrea half-carried Pamela to her living room.
She set her mother down on her sofa, catching the faint smell of alcohol under the sweet scent of her favorite perfume made Andrea worry.
"What are you doing to yourself?" she asked her mother as she looked at the drunk Pamela.
"I'm sorry, my baby. I did not mean to make you so mad at me," Pamela begged as she made a futile attempt of getting up.
Andrea wanted to ask what was wrong with her but she realized that Pamela is too far gone that she's not coherent and will not answer her.
She looked at her mother, tears still spilling out of her eyes and the whispers of Andrea's name continuously leaving her lips attached to an apology.
"I'm so sorry, Andrea. Please forgive me. Please. I was only protecting you. I'm sorry, honey. I don't want you sad. I don't want you hurt. I'm sorry, Andrea. My baby,"
Yes, she was mad to her mother... very mad to the point that she wanted to break ties with her, but as Andrea thought of it thoroughly as she watch her mother drunkenly apologize to her she felt herself soften.
She remembered what Lance said when she was in high school and her parents got into a huge fight. Her father came home very drunk and shouted her mother's name on their doorway and how much he loved her so. Lance was standing behind him when Andrea greeted her father.
"Dad, are you all right?" she asked as she knelt down to where her father is kneeling and hugged him.
"I don't want to lose you Pamela," was what her father said.
They eventually come to accept each other's apology and Andrea was asked to walk Lance out.
"Why did you get my dad so drunk? That was awful." Andrea commented as they walked.
YOU ARE READING
My Father's Best FriendRomance
Andrea Owen had always been a sucker for older guys; preferably handsome, tall, masculine with really light colored eyes with a dark and dangerous aura. What she does not know is that the man she had been looking for all her life had been there ever...