"Yes, for the hundredth time, I got everything for your party today. You don't need to worry." Darya's mother, Denise, said with an exasperated sigh.

"But did you get the chips that Marty and I like the most, that's the important question here. We've been looking forward to this day for a while. I know a lot of people aren't coming over and it honestly might just be Marty and me but those chips tie everything together." Denise rolled her eyes while she watched her way too excited daughter go around the kitchen looking for the salt and vinegar chips that she had hidden in her bedroom for this reason.

"Darya, you need to relax a bit, you don't want to get overworked and have an asthma attack. Do you have your inhaler just in case?" She asked her when she finally stopped looking for the chips.

"Yes mom, I don't go anywhere without it. And I won't have an attack I haven't in a few weeks it's been great! Now, where did you hide the chips?"

Denise let out a long sigh and walked to her bedroom at the end of the hall. Opening the closet door and reaching up to a place that she knew Darya couldn't reach, and she barely could herself, and grabbed the grocery bag that held two ma.s.sive bags of salt and vinegar chips. Walking back out to the kitchen she saw Darya's eyes widen with surprise at the amount of chips she purchased last week.

"Wow, mom! Why did you get so much? It's just going to be Marty and me today." Darya told her as she s.n.a.t.c.hed the bag from her hand and took them to the living room to set them up for the party.

"Why are we throwing a party for you and the only friend you have that comes over here so often that most people think he lives here? I bought a whole cake for this!" Denise looked over the party food and supplies with a bit of a glare at the work she had to do for it.

"Well, technically I invited a lot of other people but no one but Marty likes me. There is a reason we've been friends for this long, plus I'm pretty sure we'll eat that whole cake with no issues. He should be here shortly." She looked at the clock ticking away on the wall with antic.i.p.ation.

"It's nearly been a whole day since you've seen him, must be killing you." Her mother said with a little more than a hint of sarcasm. She loved Marty and he's been in their lives since she was a toddler in daycare. She was good friends with Marty's fathers and one of the only parents that got along with them. Because of their relations.h.i.+p, a lot of the mothers and fathers around the town didn't like them, they didn't show it in person, but you could tell they were uncomfortable.

"It is, usually he stays the night before my birthday, and I do the same with him, but his dads needed him home for something last night. They'll be coming too, by the way. I think they miss hanging out with you since you took that business trip last week. They ask about you all the time." Darya said as she rummaged through the pantry for the drink mix so she could make some lemonade before Marty got there.

"Yes, I've been meaning to go by their place and chat with them. But with the trip for work and planning my little girl's fifteenth birthday, things got a bit chaotic and I haven't had the time. I'm glad they'll be over today we need someone to help eat all of this food." She said with a bit of a laugh as she got the sugar down from the top cabinet for Darya's lemonade.

"Remember not too much of the powder, not everyone likes it as tart as you do." She reminded Darya as she scooped the pale yellow powder from the package and into the pitcher of water. She rolled her eyes at her mother's words and scooped a second helping of powder when she turned her back after setting the sugar down next to the pitcher.

Darya stopped stirring the lemonade when she heard the creak of the screen door telling her that Marty had arrived. She quickly put the pitcher of lemonade in the fridge and ran to the front of the house. Marty didn't ring the doorbell, he'd been over enough times that Denise got annoyed at the bell and told him to just come in when he would get there.

"Happy Birthday Darya!" Marty shouted as he opened the front door and nearly walked into Darya who was standing right behind the now opened door. She squealed and grabbed him in a tight hug before they both ran off and into the kitchen to set stuff up.

"Denise!" Marty's father Michael shouted from the front door telling Denise that they were there too. She pulled her ap.r.o.n off and threw it in the dirty clothes before welcoming them at the door.

"Michael, Ramon, please come in. It's been too long, sorry I've been so busy this week, between work and this girl's demands for her birthday." She joked as she gave them each a good-hearted hug and had them follow her to the living room where the kids had already broken into the hot dogs and chips.

"Don't be sorry Denise, we all have to work and I would be lying if I said city hall wasn't keeping me just as busy," Michael said as they followed her and took a seat on the couch in front of the movie that Darya had picked for them all to watch.

"I can't believe our little Darya is turning fifteen today, couldn't even believe it when Marty did last month. Time flies." Ramon spoke nostalgically as they made themselves comfortable for the movie. Denise served them a couple of hamburgers with chips and lemonade and they all settled in.

The movie was winding down and the sun began to set. They were filled with salty chips, hot dogs, hamburgers, and lemonade. As Denise walked over with the cake and readied it for candles Darya stopped her.

"Mom, can you tell me my birth story before the candles this year? Tell me about him? Please?" She begged as Marty turned toward the loveseat where Denise was sitting with the cake. She sat it on the coffee table and sighed.

"I'm not sure if Ramon and Michael want to hear that story sweetie. It's a bit overplayed." She told her as she pushed the little candles into the white and blue frosting.

"What story is this?" Ramon asked curiously.

"It's the story about how my mother met my father, and then it led to me!" She said as she threw her hands in the air.

"Let us hear it, I don't think we know anything about her father. I mean we've told you about Marty's adoption, it's only fair." Ramon told Denise with a laugh.

"Okay fine, it was almost sixteen years ago when I met him for the first time. I was nineteen years old and had just moved to the town. I was about to start my college cla.s.ses at the local community college and I was still waiting for the keys to my new apartment and the schedule for my part-time job I would be starting soon. I decided to go to the beach for the day while I waited."

She tucked her bright red hair behind her ear and leaned back remembering the day she met the love of her young life. Ramon and Michael could see the wonder behind her eyes as she continued the story. Darya scooted closer to her and leaned against the couch where Marty's fathers were sitting. Marty laid his legs on hers and got comfortable for the rest of the story.

"I found a good spot on the beach and started to read from a favorite book of mine until something caught my eye. There was this guy surfing the waves and he was pretty good. I had never lived so close to the ocean so I wasn't familiar with surfing and the daily buzz that the ocean brought the town. I watched him for what felt like hours over the cover of my book, that was until he stopped and glided towards the sh.o.r.e."

"He was gorgeous. Dark brown hair, abs for days, and sun-kissed skin that couldn't just be from tanning. Like a model, he walked out of the water and to his things on the sand that actually wasn't too far from where I was sitting. I looked quickly back to my book so he didn't notice me gawking at him like a teenager. It only got worse when he walked over to me and took a seat in the sand." She blushed slightly which made Michael and Ramon smile at each other and the kids gag slightly.

"What was he like mom?" Darya asked excitedly, even though she's heard the story a hundred times.

"His voice was deep and scratchy almost like he wasn't used to speaking to other people. It almost sung to me. Then he introduced himself to me. He told me his name was Dane and when I shook his hand it felt like electricity running through my body, but that was probably because I was so nervous. b.u.t.terflies erupted in my stomach when his eyes met mine and I was instantly lost in a sea of mossy green. That's where you get your lovely eyes from sweetie." She looked down at Darya and her deep mossy green eyes as her smile spread more and more.

"I told him my name was Denise and that I was new to town. He sat with me for a few hours until I got the call about my apartment. Over the next few weeks when I didn't work or go to school we did the same thing over and over. I would watch him surf and then he would come and sit with me in the sand. Soon that turned into a real date and a rather steaming night where the protection we used obviously didn't work." She looked at Darya who's cheeks had turned bright red almost matching the red highlights in her hair from her mother.

"Then, he told me he had to return to his hometown. He apparently wasn't from the town either and was only there for the summer. A few months later I found out about Darya but had no way of contacting him about it. Darya was born in the spring after and that summer he never returned. It was hard but that's history." She finished the story and looked around to Michael and Ramon who were listing to her just as intently as the kids were.

"What a good story, sad ending but it's good to know where Darya gets her love of the ocean from." Ramon winked at Darya from the couch making her smile.

"Can we go swimming in a little while? I have all the supplies cleaned and everything." Darya asked her mother who agreed. She was still a bit lost in the memories of her summer love from so long ago.

"Yes, but first the cake. Here you go Darya, the candles are lit. Make a wish." Her mother pushed the cake towards her with the fifteen lit candles. She closed her eyes and wished for the only thing that could make her life even better; to meet her father.