His mother pressed her lips together and scanned the room. Sam let his words hang in the air. This was going to be his first weekend with Samantha, and he had asked his parents to come up so they could all get to know each other. His father was thrilled beyond belief that he had a grandchild, and even Paige was warming up to the idea of a teenager being around. She already had a strategy involving Samantha that would help his campaign. But his mother—his mother could not or would not get past the fact that Samantha was Maya’s daughter. Well, that was too bad. She was going to have to.
“Come on, Mom. You’re coming with me to get her from school.”
“What? I’m what?”
Sam held out her coat. “Yep. And we’re walking.”
“Walking? All the way? How far is it? I’m an old lady, young man.”
Sam opened the door. “Let’s go.” There was no room for argument in his voice, and behind his mom, Paige’s mouth gaped open, while his father shook in silent laughter.
“Have fun!” his dad called out, his laughter following them as Sam shut the door.
The brightness of the sun and clear blue skies had fooled him into wearing only his leather jacket. He blew on his hands, rubbing them together and shoving them into his pockets against the November chill. He turned to his mother. “This way.” Her pace was slower than his, but certainly not old-lady-like. She threw him irritated looks and mumbled under her breath in Gujarati, but did not turn around to go back.
They arrived just as the final bell rang, and stepped to the side of the walkway to avoid the swarm of students. Most of the crowd dissipated, and there was no sign of Samantha. Sam scanned the steps and down the walkway, to the two sets of double doors, as a young couple holding hands exited the building and started walking down the steps. He looked past the couple to see if Samantha was behind them—but then he did a double take.
“Isn’t that her, holding hands with that boy?” His mother squinted through her glasses.
“No. Couldn’t be.” He stepped closer. But it was. A slight pounding started in his ears. He widened his stance, folded his arms across his chest and waited.Who was this boy?Why was he holding his daughter’s hand?Samantha and the boy were so enthralled with one another, they failed to notice that Sam was in their way. Just as they were about to collide with him, he cleared his throat.
“Dad!” Samantha’s eyes lit up, her smile easy. The boy dropped her hand as his eyes widened. “AndDadi!”
His mother stiffened. Sam would have chuckled at hearing his mother referred to as a grandmother, except that he was absorbed with checking out the hoodlum standing next to his daughter.
Samantha greeted her father with a hug that he did not return. She tried to hug Hema, too, but was met with the same resistance. Samantha pulled back and raised an eyebrow at her father. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?” She followed his gaze to the boy and turned back to him. “Oh, uh, Dad, this is Will. Will Waters, this is my dad, Sam Hutcherson, and my grandmother, Hema.”
Will was almost eye to eye with Sam, and he remained wide-eyed as he shuffled his feet. He smiled, extending a shaky hand to Sam. “Um...nice to meet you, sir.” He nodded to Sam’s mother. “Ma’am.”
Hema smiled. “Hello, Will.”
Sam could not move or speak. He was filled with a sudden and complete dislike of this young man. His eyes were too blue and his dark hair was too...something. From the corner of his eye, he noted that Samantha was looking back and forth between him and this boy.
Will hesitated, then awkwardly placed his ignored hand back in his pocket. He managed to stammer out a goodbye to Samantha, and a wave at the still silent Sam. “Uh, well, bye.” His eyes flicked to Samantha before he rushed off.
As soon as Will was out of earshot, Sam’s mother dissolved into laughter. “Talk about not liking your children’s choices!”
Sam looked at her, incredulous. “What? I was fine.”
“Oh my God, Dad! Could you have been more rude?” Samantha was glaring at him.
“I was not rude. I was checking him out.”
His mother practically guffawed, as if a guffaw was something she actually ever did. “Yes, maybe. But you were rude about it.”
Samantha turned to her grandmother. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”
“It must have been quite embarrassing for young Samantha, here.”
“It really was.” His daughter glared accusation up at him.
“Who is he?” Sam needed answers.
Samantha blushed as she shrugged. “I told you. Will Waters.”
Sam gawked at her. Did she just swoon a bit when she said his name? “Whoishe?”
She averted her eyes to a passing bus, pretending to squint into the sun. “Kind of my boyfriend,” she mumbled.
