In the family room, Sheridan glanced at the door. I wonder what's become of Michael. He and Mom have been gone so long.
“So, Sheridan,” her dad said, “you finally met someone, did you?” He gave his daughter a wistful look.
“Yes,” she replied firmly. “I do hope you'll give Michael a fair chance. I love him. I want him to be accepted into the family.”
Roger frowned, but it looked more like sorrow than anger. “Well, we'll see about that. Don't worry, I'll give him a shot, but I don't know if anyone is good enough for my baby girl.”
“Michael is; I swear it,” Sheridan vowed. “He's the best. Anyway, isn't it about time for me to… have a family of my own?”
“You're still a baby, honey,” her dad protested.
She shook her head, an inelegant snort escaping. “I'll be twenty-eight this summer, Dad
