“Anyway, how did the meeting go?” Aimee asked, leaning forward, all ears.
“Yeah, enough about our honeymoon.” Matt shoved the pictures back into the envelope. “Unless you want me to regale you with the tale of four times…”
“Matt!” Aimee blushed, nudging him with her elbow. It must have been pretty hard too because Matt coughed, spewing little bits of bread into the table. “Shut up!”
“That’s nothing,” Dale scoffed. “One night we—”
I didn’t elbow him. I reached over and shoved a breadstick into his mouth instead. Dale bit it and chewed, giving me a doughy grin.
“The meeting was… amazing.” Of course I’d told Aimee about Ben—it was still hard to call him “my dad,” even in my head, but it was getting easier.
“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “Sara, I’m so happy for you.”
“Hold onto the happy for a while,” Dale countered, washing down his bite of breadstick with my Diet Coke. “We haven’t seen the results of blood tests or anything yet.”
“Oh come on, Dale.” Aimee raised her eyebrows at him. “Do you really need to?”
I hadn’t explained Dale’s conspiracy theory about Ben just looking for something sweet out of the deal that had nothing to do with me.
“He could be anybody. I mean, there’s no father’s name on her birth certificate and her mother isn’t exactly around to tell us.”
I winced at that and saw Aimee’s look of sympathy which somehow made it worse. She still had both a mom and a dad—even if they didn’t get along very well, with the exception of her wedding.
“It just seems suspicious to me, that’s all. Maybe I’m wrong.” Dale sat back in the booth, putting his arm over my shoulder. “If the DNA comes back and he’s really Sara’s father, I’ll be the first one to welcome him to the family.”
“Those tests take a long time, don’t they?” Matt asked.
The waitress had arrived with salad and then it was yes, cheese on the salad and yes, we need more refills and sure, bring another basket of breadsticks.
“I saw a show on DNA evidence,” Aimee said. “It took like a month to get the results but they’re pretty conclusive.”
“They’re actually starting to use it to get people out of jail,” Matt remarked.
“Yeah, that was it!” Aimee stabbed an olive on her plate. “It was a death row inmate and the DNA evidence proved he wasn’t even at the scene of the crime!”
“I don’t need a blood test,” I said softly, pushing Italian-dressing soaked lettuce around on my plate. “I just know. Besides, he can answer every question I asked him. He even knew about my birthmark!”
“The one on your shoulder?” Aimee raised her eyebrows. “Geez, Dale. That’s pretty conclusive. You’re going to make the guy submit to a blood test?”
He shrugged. “I’d just feel better if we did one.”
“He agreed to it right away,” I said. “I don’t think he’s worried about it.”
“Well there you go,” Matt said, pointing his fork at Dale. “It’s like lie detector tests. Innocent people never balk at taking them. It’s the guilty ones who hem and haw and find excuses.”
“Like I said, if he’s really the guy, I’ll shake his hand and call him Dad myself.” Dale put his olives on my plate—he hated them and knew I loved them. “I just… I don’t want Sara’s hopes dashed. She’s been through enough.”
“Aww.” I put my arm around him and rested my cheek against his shoulder for a moment. “You’re so good to me.”
He kissed the top of my head.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you!” I sat up, looking at Dale and then over at Aimee and Matt. “He’s moving here!”
“What?” Aimee exclaimed. “Oh wow! For you?”
“No. He had a job interview here that day he saw my picture in the paper.” I laughed, shaking my head. “That’s why he came back today. To finalize things.”
“You’re kidding.” Dale stared at me.