Read The Preacher's Daughter for Free Online Page B

you yell. Or they'll pretend they can't. They can't ignore this."
    He put the whistle to his lips and blew. The kids all turned.
    "Whistle check!" he said. They rolled their eyes.
    "See?" he asked.
    She nodded and laughed.
    "So," he said. "You up for a swim?"
    "Sure!" Naomi smiled. "Race you to the water!"
    She won, but was sure he let her. The kids cheered as she splashed in. The water was colder than it looked and she stood shivering for a moment as she tried to adjust to the chill. But the kids were merciless.
    "Baptism!" They yelled and began to splash her as Mark grabbed her from behind and dunked her under.
    Naomi came up sputtering to the sounds of laughter.
    "Don't get mad," she heard Eric say. "It's kind of a summer tradition. They did it to me on our first trip to the lake, only it took five of them to pull me down."
    Naomi laughed and turned to splash the kids. A full-scale water fight ensued until Eric ended it with a whistle blast.
    The kids dispersed to swim or sun. Naomi grabbed an inner tube and floated lazily while keeping an eye on her charges. By lunch time she was famished and was happy to settle down with her chips and sandwich after making sure the kids all had theirs.
    One of the girls, Chelsea, came to sit beside her. She chewed on her sandwich as she stared thoughtfully at Naomi's tattoos.
    "You lived in L.A.?" the girl asked.
    Naomi nodded. "What did you do? My mom says it was probably something bad. She said your dad was ashamed of you."
    "Chelsea, could you be any ruder?" Across the tale, the handsome youth minister was scowling.
    "No, it's OK," Naomi said. "Really, Rev. Feagans, I don't mind answering."
    "Yes," Naomi admitted. "I let my folks down pretty bad."
    "What did you do?"
    Naomi had flashbacks again of looking down from a darkened stage to see the faces of leering men illuminated by the footlights. They licked their lips with undisguised lust. Some made obscene hand gestures at her. If they could get away with it they'd touch her breasts or bottom or slide a hand between her legs while they were putting money in her g-string.
    "Lived on the streets, panhandled, shoplifted." She looked at Chelsea. "Not exactly the kind of thing that parents want to put in the family Christmas newsletter."
    A couple of the kids chuckled.
    "Were you a prostitute?"
    "Chelsea!" Eric said her name in a furious tone.
    "What?" the girl protested. "My mom said she probably was. She said kids who ran off to LA always became druggies and hookers. She said not to swim too close to her because I might catch something."
    "Then your mother needs a lesson in biology and manners," the youth minister said. At this point all the other kids had stopped eating and were sitting there, staring, as he scolded the girl.
    "Now you go and sit on the bus until you can be more polite."
    Chelsea rolled her eyes. "I don't have to listen to you," she said. "My daddy's head deacon."
    "I don't care if your dad is John the Baptist," Eric shot back. "Get to the bus. Now."
    Chelsea turned to her friends, looking for support. But no one would look at her. Naomi started to tell Eric just to let it go, but he apparently was expecting that from her because now he was shooting her a look that clearly warned her not to interfere.
    Chelsea rose, muttering that her father would be sure to hear about this. The other kids watched.
    "She's just jealous because someone as old as you looks way hotter than she does in a swimsuit," Mark said.
    The other kids laughed and Naomi couldn't help but laugh, too. She'd never considered being in her twenties as "old," but to a group of teens she probably was.
    "OK, OK. That's not nice either." Eric stood. "Everyone back in the water."
    The kids stood and dumped their plates in the trash. This time Naomi didn't join them in their rush to the lake. Instead she just hung back, watching.
    "I'm sorry about that," he said.
    She shrugged. "Why? It's to be expected. Her dad's like my dad. I hear the same kind of judgmental