Elijah

My eyes landed on the table of four, where my dad and two other women sat. The woman that sat beside him, holding his hand on top of the table looked to be in her early forties. She was pretty, with dark hair and dark eyes, and she looked familiar for some reason.

“Elijah!” Dad said, looking up at me with a grin and a wave. “And we weren’t waiting for you; we haven’t been here that long ourselves. Get over here; there’s a couple someone’s I want you to meet.”

I walked over, my eyes falling to the third person at the table. I’d figured out Dad’s relationship with the other woman. By the way, they were holding hands, they were obviously together. Was the girl the woman’s daughter?

“So, who’s the one that I’m supposed to meet today?” I asked, meeting my dad’s grin with one of my own.

“Your new step-mom,” he said. “And her daughter.”

I arched an eyebrow, then looked down where they still had their hands clasped on the table, and I saw the ring on her finger.

“Oh,” I murmured.

I was surpri