《Oh, That Russian Accent》Chapter 7

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I landed in Oregon a couple of minutes ago, and I'm now waiting outside for my dad to come. I can't hide my excitement - I am literally tripping on the spot. 2 minutes later and my dad's old car pulls into the parking lot. I throw all my stuff on the ground and run over to hug him. He laughs out loud, as I reach him and squeal.

"Ohhhh, I've missed you so much!" He exclaims.

"I've missed you too, dad!"

I go back and pick my stuff up from the ground, as dad turn the car on. I throw my things in the back and hop into the front seat.

"What do you want to hear?" I ask him as I plug my phone into the aux.

"Mhmm, what do I feel like today?" He asks himself, before continuing, "Oh, I know - George Michael!"

I laugh as I put 'Flawless (Go To The City), George Michael' on. Dad always heard music from his time as I grew up. In that way, it just kinda stuck, so now it's all I listen to, myself. George and Wham! are my absolute favorite, but I also love Whitney Houston, Tina Turner, Aretha Franklin, Dionne Warwick, etc. There's just something different about it, then the music there plays these days. There's this depth to it, that I absolute love.

"I was mixed up when you came to me. Too broke to fix, said daddy get you gone. I'm missing my baby. Still missing my baby," Dad and I sing in sync. I've really just missed small things like this.

After a lot of songs, we arrive at home. I take my bags with me inside, and quickly run up to my old room. Our house isn't anything special really, but I absolutely love it. It's just so cozy and homely. I feel safe here.

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When I've put my things in my room, I go back to my dad. He's standing in the kitchen, preparing lunch. Now that I think about it, I'm actually extremely hungry. While he's getting the food done, I go to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. I hate having the smell of a plane on my clothes.

"Food's ready," Dad yells.

"Coming," I yell back and walk into the kitchen.

"We're having lasagna. I just heated the leftover from yesterday up," he tells me.

"Yummy."

"Soooo. Have you made some friends? Maybe met a boyyy?" Dad asks me.

I groan, "Come on, Dad. I will tell you if I get a boyfriend, but you honestly don't have to worry about that. And yes, I have actually made some friends. My roommate, Emily, and I have become a lot closer. It's nice to have someone to talk to, now that you can't be there all the time."

He laughs at my first response, before answering, "I'm glad to hear, honey. You know your ol' papa's always worried."

We talk some more and just relax for the rest of the day.

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