Amelia's Children

Chapter 2

It was eleven fifty in the morning. About ninety-nine degrees outside and the air conditioner just barely hanging on by a thread. Dad had finally broken down and called a repairman, but he wouldn't be able to make it in until Monday. Come on, baby, you can hold out just three more days, I silently pleaded with the dilapidated machine.

I was on pins and needles. Ten minutes until David came. Dad was in his office in the back and I was trying not to be too distracted while waiting tables. Mom had already yelled at me twice, once for spilling somebody's iced tea and again for making a group of little old ladies wait fifteen minutes before I thought to bring them their menus. I knew I was being irrational. He was just a man after all, just like any other man who had stopped by the place on his way through town. But he wasn't just like any other man. There was something about him—something I couldn't quite put my finger on. It even sounded crazy to me as I tried to explain it in my own mind, but I couldn't stop thinking about him, and wondering what he wanted to talk to my father about.

Eleven fifty-five. Pete in the kitchen had to yell in my ear three times before I turned to get the two plates of fried chicken and take them to the party at table number two. Luckily, it happened to be Mr. and Mrs. Douglas, an old couple who lived just down the road from my parents. I had played in their swimming pool as a child and they were never anything but sweet and polite. They would never complain about poor service. But still. It was my job, and seeing as how I'd already failed at one career, I didn't think I could survive failing this one too.

Eleven fifty-seven. I heard the door open and turned to see David walk in. The way the sunlight sparkled in his eyes, I found him even more attractive than he had been the previous night. He smiled at me and I waved to him before going to the back to tell Dad his noon appointment had arrived.

"Tell him I'll be about five more minutes," Dad said without looking up from his laptop.

"Sure thing," I chirped before waltzing back into the dining room. I was feeling downright giddy, and I suddenly worried that someone might start to guess why. I started to worry that David might guess why.

"Hello again," I said, laying two menus on the table. "My dad says he'll be right out."

David looked up. "Your dad? This is your parents' place?" He flashed that sheepish smile at me again and I almost melted right through the floor.

Pull yourself together, I thought, swallowing hard and trying to think what to say that wouldn't sound stupid. "Yeah, Rick and Rhonda are my parents. I'm Sarah."

"Nice to meet you Sarah Hathaway." He held out his hand to me and I offered him mine. "David Jenson." We shook hands briefly and then he looked down at his menu.

"Yeah, I know. We met last night, remember?"

He laughed, looked back up at me, and said, "Of course. But you didn't tell me your name last night."

I shook my head. "I must have forgotten. I get a little loopy when I work the evening shift."

"I'm a morning person myself, so I understand. So what do you..." he began and then quickly broke off. "Sorry, excuse me," he said, abruptly rising to his feet. "Mr. Hathaway, thank you for meeting with me."

I looked over my shoulder to see my father standing about two feet behind me.

"You can call me Rick if you want. You must be David."

"Yes, David Jenson. I'm very glad to meet you."

They shook hands and took their seats. I continued standing, waiting to see what urgent business David had with my father, but they said nothing until finally Dad looked up at me and whispered, "Perhaps you would like to take our drink orders."