“She likes gardening,” he told me. “And she has a dog.”
“That sounds promising.”
“It is.”
Once again, he took her to Bellamy’s.
Three days later, I asked how it went.
“She said she’d call.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“Dad…”
“What?”
“Maybe you should try another restaurant.”
He frowned.
“Why?”
“Because this is becoming a pattern.”
He dismissed the idea.
“Bellamy’s is perfectly good.”
That’s when I became convinced something strange was happening.
I Decided to Investigate
A few weeks later, Dad told me he had another date.
Same restaurant.
Same time.
I decided I was going to find out what was happening.
I didn’t follow him.
I didn’t spy on the date.
Instead, I called Bellamy’s the following afternoon and asked whether I could speak with someone who had worked there for a long time.
The person who came to the phone was a woman named Maria.
