Vanessa

Vanessa is standing on her toes again, holding her breath and hoping for the best. She stepped in to the living room, holding the tray on which the bowl of hot pepper soup was kept. She was contemplating how to tell her dad about tailoring tutorials and the confusing poking aroma of the soup her mother had prepared. She had summoned so much courage to finally tell him and couldn't go back on her decision. She placed the tray on the table and gave him a wistful look. He turned and grinned, "your mother is at it again huh" he said, "yes father" she replied, bringing the tray closer. The table was fairly clean, a little bit of paper here and there, books lined up in a stack like a a trade fair. She sat down on the other end of the dining room table, facing her father and watching him munch on the meat. She knew her dad would dance on the strings a little to scare her off but she also knew her confidence would pull him down. "Dad?" she muttered, "yes my darling, any trouble at school?"he spoke under the chimes of grinding meat. Vanessa starred at his mouth and wondered what on earth was going on in there, must be the Third World War, she thought. So deep in thought and eyes looking forward at her father's dancing mouth, Vanessa didn't notice he was calling out to her. "Yes father!" she struggled to answer in line with his beckoning. "What's the problem Vanessa?" She spoke but in low tune, "Uhm, I'd like to take classes on tailoring". The words sank in and simultaneously the noise in her father's mouth stopped. "But Vanessa, you're in school. Mind you, I will have no child of mine be distracted in school" "but father" her voice rose in high pitch "it's only for the mean time, pending when the strike is over". He sighed and this, she knew was a sigh of defeat. "OK, do you have plans already?" she ran across the room and gave him a big hug.