Crystal and I compared notes on lots of areas in our life, including sports, favorite hobbies, and so on. We even did politics and religion and spirituality. We said little about our families otherwise.
I finally had to end our long lunch. I still had a few client calls to make before the work week ended at five p.m. We traded phone numbers. I asked about a dinner date, but she was busy — of course. She promised to counter with another day and time after she had her flight schedule for the next month in hand. I didn’t push the issue by offering up more dates and times. We loosely said we’d talk the next day, if not even try to get together over the weekend. Given my background and her style and looks, I was pessimistic that I’d ever see her again.
We parted with a polite hug and she gave me an affectionate kiss on my cheek that burned for two hours and left me on a huge high. I felt proud of myself for not coming onto her in a stronger way as well as for not being overly shy and avoiding her altogether. If there had ever been a woman that I wanted to get to know better and have in my life, I hadn’t found her until Crystal.
One of the calls I’d promised to make was to my father. He lived in a nice neighborhood near the city called Bird Key. The entry way to the gatehouse had a fountain, a guard house, and the streets were all named after various types of indigenous birds.
My father was an investment broker; still in his forties. He’d married young and mom got pregnant on their wedding night, at least that was the story I got. After her death, he’d remained a lone and lonely bachelor for the past nine years, and hadn’t seemed particularly eager to hook-up with anybody.
After I graduated high school, I worked on him to get him to date and find companionship with somebody he loved and that loved him. He’d wave his hand in the air dismissively, and say things like, ‘Not gonna happen.’
Dad poured himself into work, established himself as a top-performer in a tough industry, and kept his nose clean. Somehow, he consistently kept his clients from avoiding the bust cycles in various industries that often sank other investment managers. As good as he was at work, he had no social life outside of work. Nada. Zilch. Nothing. He just didn’t go out, unless it was in a professional capacity.
Thus, I was surprised when I’d listened to my messages the day before when I finally paid attention to my cellphone instead of my client. Dad had called and invited me to dinner that Friday evening; not an unusual event. What was unusual was that he had a ‘woman’ that he wanted me to meet, and it was obviously not in a business sense. He was thinking that ‘she could be somebody special in his life.’ Those words surprised me given his history of anti-social behavior.
I called my father. Ross picked up on the first ring. “Thanks for calling back.”
“You have a girlfriend?” I bluntly asked, without any preliminaries. He would know I was teasing.
“No,” he assured me with a chuckle. “At least not yet. I just met Alice a week or so ago, and I invited her to dinner tonight — I’m barbecuing. She called yesterday to return my call to her about dinner, and as the time gets closer, I’m starting to get cold feet. Yes, I invited her… and her sister who she didn’t want to leave alone, but I need you to be here to balance things out. I need help, too. I’m beyond nervous — that long-tailed cat in a room of rocking chairs, you know.”
“What? You’re afraid to be alone with her? You need a wingman?” I teased. We often had more of a relationship like brothers rather than parent-child.
“David, ALL my male friends are married except you. I have not dated since your mother died nine years ago, and I pretty much dated her exclusively in college. Ergo, I haven’t really dated anybody in twenty-six-plus years and I didn’t do much back then either. I won’t know what to say, how to carry a conversation, and certainly not how to flirt or let on that I like her. I’ve been losing sleep all week just thinking about this.”
I sighed and did an eye roll he obviously couldn’t see over the phone. “When? Where?”
“My house, tonight, six-thirty, bathing suit and t-shirt. Very casual. She liked that I have a pool and asked whether the two of them could swim. Of course, I said they could before and-or after dinner. They’re not due until closer to seven. You need to help me to be charming and appealing.”
“Daaaaad! You’re charming without doing anything special. How’d you meet this femme fatale?”
“Starbucks, of course. The place was busy and I had empty seats at my table. She asked to sit with me. We struck up a conversation. She got me talking. I think we liked each other right away. She talked about her sister, too — Trish. After over an hour, she apologized that she had to go; she said she had a trip to make.
“On the spur of the moment, I asked her to dinner tonight before she left; she thought about it, studied me, probably decided I wasn’t too bad of a pervert, and accepted. The invitation was the first thing that popped into my head; I didn’t want to leave without some way to be in touch with her again. She gave me her number and asked me to call and leave a message with some details; I did that two days ago when I had some confidence. So, I’ve kind of known her for an hour and a brief telephone call.”
“That’s it? And you think she could be ‘somebody special’, you said?” I was laughing. This woman must have left an indelible impression.
“Wait until you meet her. You’ll see. She’s a breath of fresh air, and she’s gorgeous. And, of course, she’s a lot younger than I am. That’s part of what scares me about tonight. My confidence has sunk to zero. I’m embarrassed for you to see me this way, but… I need your help with the two of them.”
“Just be yourself. If you pretend to be something you’re not, eventually she’ll figure out the true you, and be pissed that you pretended to be somebody else.”
His words about the mystery woman triggered my own memory of Crystal. I did need to see her again and try to build something.
I drove up to my father’s home right at six-thirty. Once inside, I found him pacing back and forth. He had the backyard grill already heating, burgers and chicken ready to barbecue, and several side dishes ready to serve including a large house salad. My dad could be quite domestic when he was in the mood. The house looked highly polished, and there wasn’t a speck of dust or an out-of-place item to be seen anywhere. He’d done a massive cleaning and straightening.
I glanced around, “Good first impression. The whole house is impressive as you know. She’ll love your bank account. Be sure to get a prenup before you get married.” I loved teasing him.
“WHAT?” he reacted as the words sunk in. He cooled instantly and fixed me in his stare. “Yes, she’s desirable, but I’m not sure I’m ready to get married just yet. She seems a lot younger, even about your age.”
“How old is her sister?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know — older, I think. Didn’t get that piece of information; only her name — Trish, but she did call her a ‘big sister’.” He started pacing again and wringing his hands.