"Okay, first: Don't call me "Miss." It's just Lena." she said in a sharp, but tender voice.

I felt like she had popped me with a ruler, like a Catholic school teacher.

Lena sighed through a half-smile and began to speak. "A long time ago, your father and I used to be very close friends. We were both working at the same retail store, when we were seniors in high school."

"So, you are a saleswoman, " I thought to myself, condescendingly. I didn't dare ask her that question aloud, out of fear Lena would have popped me for real.

"Lance had it in his head to start his own business after we graduated. I was really good with numbers, so he wanted me to be his bookkeeper. And I was completely on board to join him."

"Until?" I asked, with my eyebrow raised. I was interested, but leery at the same time because my father had never told me this story before. Then again, he'd never mentioned Lena to me, either.

Lena paused and looked down at the table. Then, she grabbed the table tent that was sitting on the edge of the booth.

"I think I'm gonna try a kale smoothie. What are you gonna get?"

"I hate kale," I snapped. I also hated that she was deflecting. Lena could tell I was getting antsy and impatient; I'm sure my facial expressions and body language gave it away. I was leaning over the table, like she wasn't talking loud enough for me to hear her, and my eyes were wide open.

Lena saw I was in agony, and sighed. "Look," she relented. "One day, I'll tell you the full story, but not today. I just can't do it." She leaned back in the booth we shared and gave me a sorrowful stare. It seemed like Lena felt sorry for me because she knew something about my father that I didn't.

But, she didn't feel enough sympathy to tell me what it is was just yet.

"I've got to go. Here," she said, handing me a twenty dollar bill. "Honestly, I'm not really a juice bar kind of girl." Lena got up from her seat and headed towards the front door.

Again, the cat-and-mouse game ensued as I darted behind her out of the juice bar. My head started to spin from yet another sharp turn of events. I was still in disbelief this whole thing just happened.

"Hold on, Lena!" I yelled, almost out of breath. "Before you go, can I ask you one last question?"

Lena nodded.

"Um...why do you dress like that?" I sputtered, as my voice cracked. Although it was still intrusive, it was nicer than my original inquiry.

"Like what?" she answered. Was she being sarcastic?

"I mean, it’s fifteen degrees outside. It's gonna be eleven tomorrow. Don’t you get cold?"

“Yeah," Lena replied. “Sometimes.”

“So, why don’t you….you know? Bundle up?”

Lena rolled her eyes. She was visibly irritated with my ignorance, but smiled at me anyway. "Devry, it was really nice to meet you. Take care of yourself, kid."

"I’m nineteen!" I shouted back.

"Right. Of course," Lena replied, before she walked down the street and turned the corner.

I don't know if she had a car waiting on her, or grew wings and flew, but when I peeked around the corner, she was gone. And until Lena decided to talk to me again, I was at the mercy of a stranger to tell me what I didn't know about my own father.