Shelly nodded her head slowly, unable to speak. Leslie seemed to have been unprepared for this response. She got up from the bed and started pacing.
"Well, I suppose I should tell you a bit about him. The name wouldn't mean anything to you, I mean he's no-one you'd know sweetie…"
Shelly regained her voice and cut in.
"Stop rambling mom."
Leslie turned to face her daughter and smiled apologetically. Shelly decided to give her mother something to work with.
"Where did you meet him?"
"You know that restaurant I worked in? The one with all the world cuisine?" Leslie questioned.
"Where you met Dean?" Shelly just about stopped herself from saying 'dad'.
Leslie nodded. "Well, your 'real' father was a frequent customer. He came in every week to try the new dishes. Said he'd always wanted to travel but he didn't have the money, so eating 'worldly food' was the closest he got."
She stopped pacing and, feeling more at ease, took a seat beside her daughter again.
"At first, I flirted with him to make your father… to make Dean jealous, but as I got to know him, I realised I liked him and I knew he liked me too. He came in one night, ordered a drink and the 'dish of the day'. He'd had a rough day", Leslie gave a short dry laugh, "fight with his girlfriend. Emotions were running high, et cetera, et cetera and you were created." She looked at her daughter lovingly then suddenly her expression changed, as if she had tasted something especially sour. "It had been Mexico day at the restaurant. He told me afterwards his new favourite dish was puerco pibil."