Whose Side Is Dad On?

Shouldn't all of us be on the same team?

Words: 619

"I'm not going to discuss this any more."

The connection was cut. She had hung up on me while I was in mid-sentence. And no, I'm not speaking of my daughter, I'm actually speaking of my best friend. A forty-five year old woman, behaving like that.

My husband found me staring at my smartphone.

"What's up? Was the phone rude to you?"

I shook myself and looked up at him. I attempted to smile, but couldn't.

"Tell me all about it," he urged, pulling me down on the sofa next to him. I cuddled against him, warm and comforting.

"She hung up on me," I complained.

"Who?"

"Janaki. I was telling her all about Sunayna's crush on that guy and how we're putting a stop to it –"

I stopped short as my husband nudged me off him and held me at arm's length by both shoulders. His eyes were looking directly into mine.

"No. We are not trying to put a stop to it. You are."

I gasped. "You mean you ..."

"Sweetheart, Sunayna is out of her teens now. She is old enough to be in love, not just have a crush. I think we ought to trust her on this."

"But –"

My husband kissed me lightly on my forehead. "How old were you, when we first met?"

"Seventeen, but that was ..."

"No, my darling, it wasn't different. It was the same. Sunayna is three years older than you were then. Let's trust her. Let's trust how we've brought her up. What exactly did Janaki say?"

"Exactly the same thing as you are. Trust her, trust your upbringing of her. This is a conspiracy."

"This is common sense."

"Common sense shouldn't apply to mothers," I protested feebly.

He winked and kissed me again. "Because mothers have uncommon love? But seriously, you'll push our daughter away if you put in too many rules. At her age."

"But what if he ditches her and hurts her? What if he turns out to be horrible? What if ..."

"What if he's a really nice guy and makes her happy? Anyway, aren't you getting rather hot and bothered rather early on? She's only mentioned him a couple of times."

"That's what. She's written this in her diary."

"You read our daughter's PRIVATE DIARY?"

I've never seen my husband that angry, not in all our years of marriage. Janaki had hung up the phone on this note, and now my husband was yelling.

"I only – I only –" I stammered, not knowing how to go on.

"You only wanted to be an interfering busybody. What's up with you? You hated it when your Mom did stuff like this and now you're ..."

"Relax, Daddy," came a voice.

Both of us sat upright and turned. There she was, our daughter, emerging calmly from her room.

"I didn't know you were home!" I yelled.

"Yup. That was the intention. I left that diary where you'd see it. I knew you'd peep. I wanted to be there when you saw it to know whom you called and what you said about me. And I wanted to know which side Dad was on."

"Sunayna," my husband began.

"I'm sorry, Dad, but Mom just gives such strong no-talk vibes when I try to bring this up that I had to find another way. I'm glad you trust me anyhow, even if she doesn't."

The last sentence pierced me.

"I trust you too, dear," I managed to tell my daughter.

My husband pulled both of us into a group hug. "And we're all on the same side," he proclaimed.

My phone beeped. My husband reached for it. "It's Janaki," he said. "Let me answer it and tell her you've come to your senses."