A Pastor's Daughter's Diary

Talk

Dear Jesus,

"You need to be careful, Radiance. You're getting to attached to this John," Dad gruff voice more or less boomed the moment the front door slammed behind me.

Why was I still surprised that my Dad would say that when I had replayed this kind of scene in my head several times on my way inside?

I stifled a groan. Mom was doing nothing to rescue me. She just sat comfortably in the couch, smiling unabashedly, looking content to watch our dadddy-daughter banter. In fact, when I looked at her for help, she pretended to be engrossed in grading her students' exam scripts. How diligent of you, Mom!

I walked over to where Dad was seated in the couch and stood before him. I began to deliver my well premeditated speech.

"Let me explain, Dad. I'm not getting attached to John (even as I said this I kept praying I was speaking the truth). He's just lucky to have very rich grandparents who gave him a Powerbike as his birthday gift. And when he offered to take me home, I couldn't decline cos Mommy Sarah was there when he asked," I said, desperate to keep my good girl reputation. It would be catastrophic at this point to make my Dad to begin to have second doubts about my working at Sarafoods or my friendship with John.

"You had your transport fare, yes or no?" Dad was quick to ask. His eyes bored into mine. If not that I convinced myself I was telling the truth, I would have literarily melted underneath his gaze.

Oh yes, the transport fare! The transport fare I was glad to save cos it would add to the money I intend using to get John a belated gift.

"Yes, but..."

"No buts. You could have taken the bus."

I drew in a shaky breath and sighed. It was pointless trying to explain.

"Dad, Mom. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," I said repentantly.

"Kennedy, forgive the girl and let's eat dinner," Mom said, laughing as she continued marking her script. I guess she thought it was time for a rescue mission. Was she waiting for me to apologize?

I guess the preaching anointing was heavily upon my Dad tonight. Sometimes it extends beyond the boundary of the pulpit and spills right into our home.

"You know we love you. You have to be careful. You're in your peak years– yes, and you want to be free– absolutely. Nobody wants to cage you in. But you can't trust your flesh. That boy has blood flowing in his veins too."

"Yes Dad. I totally understand you." I really really did. From my own perspective, I think John is innocent and I am totally guilty. I could have refused. I mean, it's a terribly bad idea for a girl and a boy to go unchaperoned to a lonely ochard. Anything could have happened. God have mercy on me.

But come to think of it, if I hadn't gone with him, would I have seen that revelation?

I went over to where Dad was seated on the couch, squirmed closer, repeatedly batted my eyelids and gave him my cutest puppy dog look.

I saw that he was struggling hard to retain his stern overprotective father countenance. I broke that with my apex last card. I pecked him on his cheek.

He gave up and smiled down on me. Jackpot! I had hit the bull's eye.

He sighed.

I hugged him just for reassurance's sake. To tell him: Hey, no worries Dad. I'm still your baby girl.

Mom coughed dramatically.

"I'm still here, you know?" she said.

It was so comical that we all burst out laughing.
Dinner was trussed chicken and chinese noodles. Mom ordered Chinese food. You won't believe they didn't eat cos I was supposedly 'missing'.