PROLOGUE
SAVANNAH, 18 YEARS OLD
Tugging on my tiered floral skirt, I make sure it hasn’t ridden up and is still at my knees. Constantly checking my outfit for modesty slows me down as I speed walk down Seventeenth, but I don’t want to be a temptation.
At school today, Mrs. Barclay scolded my biology partner for her shirt being too low. Mrs. Barclay said that only Jezebels wear V-neck shirts. Glancing down at my shirt, I confirm that my Peter Pan collared shirt hasn’t magically transformed into a spaghetti strap tank top.
Thank Heavens.
Reading the time on my watch, I pick up the pace. I’m almost late meeting Dad for dinner at his favorite restaurant, Da Nonna Rosa, but I got caught up at the library finishing a project for Calculus. I slow down as I cross in front of the windows of the restaurant.
Entering the doors, I’m greeted by the delicious smells of marinara, baked pizza crust, and grilled yumminess. The low lighting and deep wood accents give off a calming mood. The restaurant is full of customers, not a single empty table in sight.
The hostess clears her throat and smiles, getting my attention. “How many in your party?”
“I’m meeting my father. John Bartlett.”
“Oh yes. He said you’d be coming.” She waves her hand for me to follow as she leads me to his table.
I spot Dad right away, and so does the hostess. She gives him a suggestive look, but he ignores her. He hasn’t dated anyone since Mom died, but that doesn’t stop women from hitting on him regularly.
Dad stands and opens his arms for me. “My Daisy.” He’s called me that since I can remember. Once, I asked him why he and Mom didn’t name me Daisy. He said that he was happy to name me after his mother, who was a good, god-fearing woman.
“Hi, Daddy.” I step into his embrace and give him a quick hug.
I’m lucky to have him in my life. After Mom died, he didn’t turn into an absent father. He works hard to provide for us and to send me to my private Christian school.
The hostess is gone before I sit in the booth, walking away with a displeased huff.
Dad gestures for me to sit across from him. “That skirt is getting short.”
My teeth nervously bite at my lip. “I know. I think I grew again. It wasn’t that short when I tried it on in the store.”
He purses his lips but quickly rids his face of the tension. “You’re growing like a weed, Daisy. We’ll have to go shopping again.”
I perk up at the thought. I know I’m a stereotypical teen, and I know I shouldn’t take such interest in worldly possessions. But I can’t help it. Trying on clothes brings me so much joy, it’s insane.
Dad opens his red cloth napkin and settles it on his lap. “I ordered you your favorite, Chicken Martino. And then I thought we could get tiramisu for dessert.”
My stomach rumbles at the thought of all those tasty foods as I take a sip of my water, then reply, “Thank you! Are we celebrating something?”
“That we are.” His face is full of excitement.
I match his energy. “Yay! What happened?”
He reaches for the seat at his side and lifts up an envelope. It’s been opened, the edges ripped away. I find the words “Davis College” in the top left corner and my name in the middle.
My jaw drops. “What does it say?”
“You got in!”
I squeal and cover my mouth with my hands, squirming in my seat.
He sighs in content. “You’re going to do great in Johnson City, and majoring in Bible Studies…” Dad chokes up a bit. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Aww, Daddy.” I blush under his praise and reach for his hand.
“I can’t believe you’re all grown up.”
