"Come in," my dad called when I knocked on the door.

I opened it, "Hi," I said, finding him near the window. He turned, one hand held thoughtfully on his chin, the other propping up his arm.

"Hi, sit down."

Shrugging, "I've been sitting down already, mind if I stand?"

"No, not at all," he said and sat down instead, "so you talked with him?" he asked as he studied his hand intently.

"Yes," this was so awkward, "Dad, can I just talk uninterrupted, please?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

"Of course, Keerie," he looked injured that I had to ask, "you don't have to ask that."

I took a breath and told him all that had occurred between Allen and I; the discussion we'd had regarding the problems with the relationship that had somehow sprung up between us, the choice to see if Allen would accept God, and how I felt about it. "So now I wanted to talk to you," I concluded, "and hear what you had to say regarding me and Allen courting," I sat down, now that I'd had my say.

My dad nodded, still thoughtfully, "Are you asking me to help you decide whether or not to pursue this relationship you two have? Or are you telling me you are persuing the relationship?"

I looked down at my hands, "I'm not sure, really. Dad, I. . . I went through a lot, a whole level of hell on earth, and Allen was there for me almost all the time. He went looking for me when I disappeared and-" I paused, looking back up, "I'm used to him. It's not a romantic-y fluttery-heart feeling, though that does sometimes feel that way, but I can't imagine Allen not being there."

Dad stood up, walking back to the window, "He's a good man, loyal, from what I've seen. But you lived away from him for some time, several months in fact, and it doesn't seem to have affected you. And you were separated for several weeks just recently. Did it affect you when he was gone?"

He had me there. I thought about it for a bit. Was it all that bad when Allen was gone? Could I live without him?

Sensing my quandary my dad continued, "He is an atheist, at the moment. I'm not saying that to condemn him but rather to try to help you understand that you will both have issues in your relationship until one of you decides to accept the choice of the other. Or, worse, you'll always disagree and that will pull you apart. It will be hard, you'll have to readjust your entire lifestyle and he will need to do that as well. It's not easy, relationships. They are one of the hardest things to do. Which is why we need to talk. "

I looked up in surprise, "But you and mum-"

"We had difficulties too," Dad smiled, "even though we were a great pair," his voice became hoarse and a look of pain flashed across his face as his voice died out. A lump of loss formed in the back of my throat. Mum. She'd never be able to help me with boys again, not that Dad was bad about guys or anything but it was easier to talk to her about them. Not that this conversation would have been easier, it was just one of those things I wouldn't be able to do with her again.

"Each person brings their own garbage with them to a relationship," he recovered his voice and emotions, "and with Allen he might have more garbage than you. Now I highly doubt that, as you are my daughter and I was no angel," he chuckled at his own bad joke, "but you both will need to be honest with each other and see if you can deal with the nitty-gritty side of each other and move beyond all the wrongs you have both done."

I nodded, "So. . ."

"So start talking to each other, if that is what you want," Dad said, "I'll need to talk to him again about this, but I wouldn't mind. I like making people squirm."

"Dad!" I stood up and punched him playfully in the arm, "you're terrible, you know that?"

He laughed and wrapped me in one of his big bear hugs, "Yep. I love you, Keerie. God gave you back to me and I want to hold on to you so tightly now. I don't want to see you hurt, even though you've become such an amazing woman. I don't want to lose you again."

I breathed in his familiar scent and tried not to feel like the three year old curly-top child I had been, "I know, Dad," I pulled back, not wanting to ask the question but I needed to know, "Did they-" I struggled to get the words out, "Did Mum and the others die one by one or. . ."

He placed a hand on my cheek, "We lost Hally and Amy to a bomb first, Elle to a sniper, and Jacob was captured. Your mum died of pneumonia," he wiped away the tears that finally escaped. I didn't try to stop them once they started, it was too much work anyway to keep breathing at times. I never knew I had so much water in me, either. We sat there for a while, father and daughter, just holding onto each other as we mourned.

"You alright?" I asked, after a while.

"I will be," He said, "at least they are somewhere safer now."

I nodded, drying my tears, "Yeah. Elle would have been annoyed at all the dirt."

Dad laughed, "She would."

I hugged him again, tightly. I had things to do, unfortunately, and I had to go. "Thanks for talking, Dad."

He nodded, kissing my forehead, "So what are you going to go tell that young man?"

I shrugged, "Not sure yet," I met his gaze, "would you give permission if we decided to court?"

"You both can't seem to stop ogling each other," Dad said, "are you giving me a choice?"

I sighed, "I thought you were the one deciding." "I'm not the one who'd be marrying him. That's your choice, Keerie. What do you want?"

"I don't know," I stood and went to the door, "but I'll let you know when I know."

"I wouldn't mind some grandchildren," Dad called after me and I felt my face flush. Sometimes he was devious,

"I'll keep that in mind," I called over my shoulder.

"After the wedding," He clarified.

Laughing, I said over my shoulder, "I know, Dad," and left the room.