The Preachers Daughter

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Weeks have passed and I haven’t heard from Johnny since. One night he asked me for a way to contact me during the day. That terrifies me. I made some lame excuse that I was in between phone numbers switching to a more compatible cell phone provider. Since then our talks dwindled down to nothing.

Working alongside my dad at the church has been productive. A family of missionaries came home and have been sharing their experiences with us. The next set of missionaries leaving is a family of four headed to Belize and are going to be helping an orphanage. Setting them up for their year long leave has been tedious but the rewards will be worth it. I can’t wait to get their monthly letters.

I’ve slowed down on my hours on the phones. Praying and deeply soul searching has led me to believe my infatuation and my relationship with Johnny has become unhealthy. Nothing can ever happen. To him I am Desiree, a voice over the phone who he pays by the minute to speak to. Besides, I don’t even believe Johnny is his real name either.

Trying to dedicate myself more to the church, I joined the ladies choir and have even been helping my dad prepare his sermons. I suppose this way I am seeking forgiveness for my guilt riddled mind not being completely honest with my parents. Granted they have never questioned my bank account and how it’s grown exponentially, but I haven’t exactly been open with them either.

Downside to being more hands on in the church and joining the ladies choir, the ladies are nosier than ever. “Oh Luna, please give my grandson a chance” and “Luna, my nephew is your perfect match! Just call me Cupid”. It’s getting ridiculously old.

I am a 22 year old young woman who hasn’t gone off to college, hasn’t lived without her parents, and I am just not mentally prepared for Ethel, Elizabeth and Marina to set me up on blind dates. Especially when in the back of my mind, mentally I am Desiree longing for the voice of Johnny.


Never in my life did I think that my father would be so fucking stupid as to have to put me into hiding. He has a death wish. Who starts a fucking war with the Russians this close to his own retirement? I do not understand what he is trying to prove to himself. I swear, ever since Mama passed the man has lost more than his mind. I offered to take over the Netti Family Organization and all the businesses associated but he and his own Capos have told me I’m not ready.

How in the fuck am I supposed to get ready to be handed the family business in the midst of a war with the Russians while in hiding? Why was I put into hiding in the first fucking place? I would be more useful along side my father killing off our enemies than sitting like an idol duck in Nowheresville New Jersey USA.

I have had to resort to eating American rubbish cuisine, knock-off pizzas, garbage lasagna, drink trash wine, live in a small ocean side cottage in a town that has one church, a few restaurants, nothing to do, and no one around that I know.

For fucks sake, I have grown so desperate that I called one of those hotline numbers to talk to a damn female. All I have seen in this po-dunk town in the middle of Nowheresville is old ladies. At least to calm my mind and give me a small sense of normalcy I have Desiree. Too bad it costs me a premium to talk to her. Something about her voice though. I dream one day of a woman to be by my side with an angelic voice like hers.

Desiree. Too bad I can’t even be honest with her about myself. To her, I am Johnny, a lonely businessman willing to pay to have conversations with her. Not Jionni, the heir to the Netti Family Organization and the future leader of the most respected and feared underground crime syndicate in the world. How utterly pathetic is my life?

While in hiding, I am not allowed an ounce of contact with my father, friends, any family. Everything I have known for the last 24 years, all gone. No deadline or light at the end of the tunnel being in hiding. I swear on the grave of my mama, my father will explain his reasoning to me for this war and shipping me off.

“Uh, I would give you my number to reach me during the day but uh, um, I am in between cell phone carriers and don’t have a phone number to give you” Desiree said. If that isn’t a back ally way of saying she wasn’t interested in having a conversation with me unless she was getting paid to do so. I was infuriated, but mostly embarrassed. How fucking desperate am I to be asking a woman who I reached through sex hotline?!

I need God in my life. Looks like I’ll be trying out that local church soon.
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