“I do. I thought we were friends.”
He dropped a can of baked beans on top of some Kaiser rolls. “Right. That‟s why you were home waiting for some guy last
night.”
“Waiting for . . . Your total is seventy-three dollars and twenty-nine cents,” she said to the man standing in line. “Thank
you for shopping at Wiley‟s.”
She waited until the shopper collected his bags before she hissed at Zack, “I was waiting for you, dummy.”
His mouth gaped.
She turned to the next customer in line. “Did you find everything you need today?”
Zack‟s mind whirled as he bagged the items that came at him down the line, crackers, dish soap, chunky chicken soup, two-
sixty-nine .
Stephanie‟s voice broke into his concentration. “So, if you weren‟t with me, who were you with last night?”
She couldn‟t be jealous. Jesus, he was a freak, whatever Morgan said.
“My father,” he mumbled.
She shot him a sharp look over her shoulder. “I thought your father was dead.”
“My biological father.”
“Oh.” Her fingers paused their dance over the register. “Wow. Wait . . . Is he the really hot guy staying at the inn? Looks
kind of like you, but older? Blond.”
Zack felt his face get red. “I don‟t know.” Was he hot? Did she think he was hot? “He‟s got light hair.”
“That‟s the one. Your total is thirty-two dollars and eighty-five cents,” she said to the woman in line.
Cans were piling up in front of Zack. He stuffed them into a bag.
“I‟m sorry, this register is closed now. Dot can take you over there. Dad.” Stephanie raised her voice, calling over to the
other register. “I‟m taking my break now.”
“Stephanie, it‟s Friday.”
“I get breaks on Friday.” She flashed him a grin. “Please.”
He huffed. “Fifteen minutes. Not one second more.”
“Thanks, Daddy. Come on,” she said to Zack.
He finished loading the woman‟s cart. “Where?”
“Break. Hurry up.”
He followed her back to the storeroom, drawn by her quick, firm steps and smoothly moving hips, helpless as a fish on her
line.
She dropped into a metal folding chair, waved him to another. “So, what did he want?”
“What?”
“Your father. What‟s he doing here?”
He looked into her sharp, interested face. Some of the tension churning inside him eased. “I don‟t know.”
“Maybe he‟s dying and he wants to leave you all his money.”
He shot her a disbelieving look.
She shrugged. “Okay, my fantasy, not yours. He probably has another family tucked away somewhere.”
“I don‟t think so.” Zack swallowed. “According to my mom, he never got married.”
“He could still have kids. You could have, like, half brothers and sisters running around someplace and never know it.”
Zack‟s chest felt tight. He was having enough trouble figuring out where he belonged without the thought of others like
him out there somewhere.
“I have a half sister already,” he said. “I don‟t need anybody else.”
“Still, it‟s kind of cool. Him looking you up after all these years. Although it‟s weird, him waiting so long.”
“He didn‟t know about me,” Zack heard himself saying. “When my mom got pregnant. She didn‟t know how to get in
touch with him.”
At least, that had been the story she‟d always told him. Who knew anymore what was true or not?
“So it was kind of not his fault,” Stephanie said.
Zack jerked one shoulder, unwilling to admit it.
“I wonder if he‟s carrying a torch for your mom.”