Heroes, and Their Heroine

My brown eyes scanned the light blue house my father and I were going to live in. White paint outlined the window and door frame. White curtains covered the glass windows, leaving nothing for the imagination for the wandering eyes. Green trees surrounded the home as I had finally noticed, watching my father knock down the for sale sign that now littered the rich green lawn. There was a cobble stone walk way in the center leading to the porch -- as far as I could see, it wrapped around the entire house.

"Come on now, Maria!" my father smiled as he held up a couple of paint brushes and cans of paint foundation. "Your room isn't going to paint itself, darling!"

I let out a chuckle, and followed my dad up the cobble stone pathway and into the house. I just got here today, and the only room left to set up, was mine. Of course, my dad had retreated to this home a week earlier than I, getting everything set up here while I tied up the loose ends back in Chicago.

Walking to the room my father stood in front of, I smiled. It was wide and spacious. The closet had white doors with golden handles. Across from the door, there was a wide window, with a window seat wide enough for me and another person to lay on. I decided upon a gaze that the window seat would now be my bed. I looked to my dad, who leaned against the door frame, a wide smirk placed on his tanned face. His green eyes were a lit with a smile. "Do you like it?" he asked me playfully, although from my smile, he could tell. He knew I liked the room but he liked to be told that he made a good choice, you know, to inflate his already huge ego. It's quite amusing when it deflates though.

I frowned seriously, trying to beat him at his little game. I am not conceited or anything, but I do think I am quite an actress. "Nope, it's horrible. The room is way too bright for my liking," I started, walking to the center, and spining around in a small circle. I walked over to the window seat and sat there with a smug look. "And this window seat is so tacky! Really dad, don't you know me at all?"

His happy expressioned turned into a schocked one, and I threw myself a little victory dance in my head as I kept my straight face. "You really don't like it? I thought you would...You've always wanted a window seat."

I smiled as he scratched the back of his head, no doubt wondering why I didn't like it. "I'm lying when I say I hate it, dad. The room is absolutely wonderful."

Almost immediately, his smug expression was back as he tossed me a paint brush. "See monkey," he smiled as he set up the tarp on the wooden floors. "I knew you'd like it."

I rolled my eyes and dipped my brush into the open can of foundation, painting the walls with my father. "Of course, King Kong. Of course."

It wasn't long before we painted the entire room with foundation, including the ceiling. Now, we retired to the living room, sitting on the couch in our paint covered overalls. I looked over to my dad, Jhon, who lay languidly against the leather couch. His right leg was stretched out on the couch and his left leg was bent at the knee as it would be if he was sitting regularly. His shaggy black hair was kept under his favorite worn baseball cap. "Tomorrow, we'll go to the hardware store and pick out the colors," he yawned, his head tilting back to rest on the couch. I chuckled.

"I already decided on them," I mentioned, stealing the remote from him. He pouted at me as I flipped the channel from the game he was watching to a movie on TNT, the title escapes me though.

"Really? What colors?" he asked, still pouting. I looked at him, and then shifted my eyes back to the movie.

"Red and black; you know, for a 139 year old man, you sure do act like you're ten," I told him -- a part of me was serious, while the other part, was being playful. I looked at him again to find him pouting and I rolled my eyes. "The puppy pout thing isn't going to work on me, dad. You've tried it before."

He sighed and smiled. "Hey, you never know. One day, you might just feel bad enough about your old man pouting and moping and give in."

I coughed and let out a laugh. "It never happened, and never will, King Kong."

He scoffed and nodded; he was sitting on the couch regularly now, and he leaned forward only to fail at his attempt of stealing the remote away from me. He gave me one more pout and I shook my head, a victorious smirk upon my lips. He sighed and reclined his entire body on the couch. "One day, monkey, one day."

I grinned. "One day, King Kong?" I teased. "One day in the times of never."