“And how was that?” He buttoned his coat and put on his gloves as he joined her.
“Well, Mrs. Pappenberger hates me. So I totally expected her to throw every book at me that she could.”
Sam tensed. “Is that what she did?”
Samantha frowned, her eyebrows raised. “No. She called me and Mom to the office and made a big show of how she’s so important, and how I don’t really belong at that school.” Samantha shrugged. “But in the end, she let me go with a warning. Apparently, no charges will be filed, and now I have a clean slate.” She paused. “Thanks to you.” She granted him a sideways glance. “So, thank you.” It was almost a whisper.
Sam relaxed and nodded. “Not a problem. Just a couple phone calls.” He was trying to decide if she sounded like Maya. He thought she did. “As I told your mother, the added bonus was sticking it to Byron Stevenson.” He laughed the nervous laugh of a teenager and he could almost taste the cigarette smoke in the wind as it mixed with the aroma of fried food wafting from nearby restaurants. People passing them on both sides muttered irritations under their breath, but father and daughter seemed oblivious of all this as they concentrated on one another.
“You’re not just the lawyer, are you?” She stopped, almost midstep, and spit out the words quickly as if she were afraid they wouldn’t come out otherwise. “You’re my dad.”
The words hit Sam with the force of a blow to the belly. She murmured something he couldn’t quite make out. They stopped and were silent as the crowd flowed around them, two boulders in a creek of people.
Sam opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He paused and took a deep breath as he looked past Samantha at the neon lights of the city, brilliant around them. Relief mixed with confusion. He wanted nothing more than for her to know who he was, but how had she found out?
When he opened his mouth a second time, speech had, thankfully, returned to him. “Excuse me, I didn’t get that last part.”
Samantha looked up at him with cold brown eyes as she raised her voice. “I said, ‘or at least the sperm donor.’”
A passerby sniggered, and while Samantha reddened, she did not break eye contact. Sam simply raised one eyebrow at her. “Okay. Yes, I am your dad.” Then with some degree of awkwardness said, “But the second part, it wasn’t like that.”
Sam leaned toward her. “I’m surprised your mom told you. She all but kicked me out of her shop the last time I saw you.”
A look of victory crossed her face and realization kicked in. “She didn’t tell you, did she?” He sighed. “Nicely played.” He bowed slightly to acknowledge her win. “How did you figure it out?”
“Well.” She hesitated, but she managed to look abashed and proud all at the same time. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. She never has coffee with the customers. Like,ever. And you saw her that day, she couldn’t wait to get you out of there, which made no sense, since you’d agreed to help me. At the very least she could’ve sent you home with cookies.” Her cheeks flushed with excitement and her words tumbled out, engulfing Sam like warm water. “But when I want information,” she said, “I use the internet.”
Her voice softened. “I started looking for you about a year ago. I wanted to know about you, and she wouldn’t ever say much. She also never came to Maryland with us to see Sejal-masi. She only sees them when they come up here. So, I was alone with Sejal-masi...”
“You asked Sejal?”
“Yeah, you know her?”
Sam grinned. “I used to know her.” Visions of a giggly young girl with her hand over her eyes, swearing she wasn’t peeking at them kissing, popped into his head. When he didn’t offer more, Samantha continued.
“I started with Sejal-masi, because she’s great and all, but sometimes, she lets things slip.” Samantha tried, but failed, to hide the pride in her smile. “Like the fact that Mom was a nanny in Maryland the summer before I was born, and had dated someone who went to Columbia Law. She didn’t even realize she said your name.” Samantha bit her bottom lip. “Google did the rest. I was narrowing it down, but you were the right age, and your name is Sam.” Her voice lowered. “I always wondered why I was named Samantha—as opposed to something moreIndian. Made sense.”
“You—you’re amazing,” Sam said, with what could only be pride in his child. He shivered in the wind. “I notice you’re taller than your mother.” Sam tilted his head to the side. “By more than an inch.”
A smile played at her lips and she offered him another small eye roll. “I suppose I have you to thank for that, too.”
“Yeah, I suppose so.” He leaned in close to her. “But that sass—that comes from your mother.” He stood back and laughed. “Or your grandmother.” He looked around as if Sunita might be lurking. “But don’t tell her I told you that.”
He offered his hand in a handshake. “Let’s meet, officially.”
Samantha just stared at his hand.
Sam pressed his lips together and returned his hand to his side. “I thought you came to find me so we could get to know each other.”
“Yeah, well. That doesn’t change the fact thatIhad to come findyou.” She glowered at him.
“Well, I’ve been playing phone tag all day with your mom so I—”
“Why is that?”
“Why is what? Phone tag? Because your mom won’t—”
“No, why did I have to come to you, instead of the other way around? Where have you been for fifteen years?”
