Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry(62)

Silence followed as Gina allowed her father’s advice to sink in.

“Enough about me,” she said. “What’s new in your world?”

She did not have to wait long to get an explanation for the lift in his overall attitude. It was a forty-minute drive from Fort Myers to Naples, and her father spent the last thirty of it telling her about Marian Callow. She was raised in Los Angeles. Her father was an assistant director for one of the movie studios. She eloped when she was twenty. They broke up ten years later when she realized she couldn’t have children.

After moving to New York, she worked as an interior decorator. At thirty-five Marian married a retired executive. He died eight years ago. She has two stepsons. Gina’s father finished by saying he hoped Gina wouldn’t mind that he had asked Marian to celebrate his birthday dinner with them.

So that explained his hesitation about her coming down and his wanting to make the reservation for Saturday, Gina thought.

“Gina, I have to tell you something. You know how tough it’s been for me since your mother died. Just before I left for our trip, I met Marian. While we were away, I realized how much I was thinking about her. Then when I got back to Naples, there was a note from her asking me to come to a welcome home dinner. Since then I’ve been seeing her every day.”

Every day for three weeks, Gina thought. Where was this going? While she was trying to decide if she wanted to marry Ted, who she’d known for over two years, he was thinking about a woman he barely knew.

“Marian is a little younger than I am,” her father volunteered.

“How much is ‘a little’?”

“Seventeen years,” he answered sheepishly.

“Seventeen years!” Gina exclaimed. If that was your definition of “a little,” what would you consider a lot younger? She quickly did the math in her head. She was thirty-two, her father sixty-six. Forty-nine-year-old Marian was as close to her age as to his.

“All right, so she’s younger than I am,” he said flatly, “but I don’t think that makes a difference, do you?”

“Difference for what, Dad?” Even as she asked the question, Gina was afraid that she knew the answer.

“The way things are going, I could see us getting serious in the near future.”

Her mother had been dead only six months, Gina thought. Surely after thirty-five years of a very happy marriage, her father hadn’t fallen for someone else so quickly. An old expression her grandmother often used that she hadn’t thought about for years crossed her mind. Weeping widows are easily transplanted. Did that apply to weeping widowers? she asked herself sarcastically, then chose her response carefully. “Wow, Dad, I’m happy for you. But at the same time that’s pretty fast. Where are we going for your birthday dinner?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“The Naples Bay and Yacht Club.”

He continued. “I know you like their food, so that’s where I made a reservation for the three of us to have dinner tomorrow night.”

The three of us, Gina thought to herself. That used to refer to Dad and me and Mom. And now somebody else is part of the three.

“I know it was love at first sight when you and Mom met in high school,” Gina said. “You both knew right away you’d found the right person. And from that day on you had almost fifty years of happiness with each other. But remember you met at seventeen and got married at twenty-five. That’s eight years of getting to know somebody.”

“Gina, when you get to be my age, you know what you’re looking for. Young people have time to court for eight years. People on Medicare don’t.”

She reached over and touched his shoulder. “Dad, Mom isn’t gone six months. You had a very happy marriage all those years. Of course you miss that companionship and want to replace it. But picking the wrong person to be with will be a lot worse than being alone.”

“You’ve already concluded she’s the wrong person. Why don’t you meet her first and give her a chance?”

“Dad, I haven’t reached any conclusions. Here’s what I’m sure about. You’re not just nice-looking; you’re handsome. And you’re a thoroughly smart, warm human being. You worked hard your whole life and you’re financially very comfortable. In other words, you’re a catch.”

“Oh please,” he chuckled.

“You are, Dad. I can understand why she’s interested. Why are you so enraptured?”

Using his baritone voice to imitate Dean Martin, he began to sing, “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore.”

They were almost at the driveway.

“Come on, Dad, I’m serious. So, when do I get to meet her?”

“Right now,” he said.

As he stopped the car, the front door of the villa opened and Gina found herself staring at the woman who had so enthralled her father.

She’s very pretty was the first thought that ran through Gina’s mind as she took in the slender woman who was approaching them. Her silver-blond hair framed a face with even features, dominated by large brown eyes that focused directly on Gina.

“Hello, Gina. I’m so glad to meet you. Jay has told me so much about you.”

“All good, I hope,” Gina said, trying to force a smile.

“Nothing but.” Marian’s voice was hearty and followed by a laugh that Gina did not share.