AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That could be tricky. If it isn’t already.”
Just what I need. Another voice of dissent.
“We’ve been able to manage it so far,” I argue.
My dad is quiet. So I wait, though not for long.
“I knew her father,” he starts. I’d wanted to ask but just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. “He wasn’t the same after Evie’s mother died.”
Evie talks little of her mother, and I’m always afraid to bring it up, not sure if I’d be saying the right thing or not. The idea is so foreign to me, losing either parent, but especially at such a young age . . . I just cannot imagine.
“How so?” I ask, the distant sound of my mother’s and brother’s voices carrying through the open windows.
“He never dated again, as far as I know. Lived for the dealership, keeping that restaurant afloat . . . and his daughter. He talked about Evie training and coming back eventually. When you opened up”—Dad looks out to the lake—“he congratulated me. But I could tell there was a part of him that saw it as a bit of a betrayal of his wife’s memory. She loved that restaurant, as did he. We talked about it having a different style, and being lakeside versus downtown. And he’d been extremely gracious, don’t get me wrong.” Dad shrugs. “I hope you can make it work. It’s obvious you’re in love with her, son.”
My jaw drops.
It’s easily one of the most intimate things my father has ever said to me. We talk about business, golf, and sports.
Not love.
But I don’t deny it.
“My advice?”
That’s the difference between my mother and father. Mom would have given it already ten times over, whether I wanted the advice or not. I smile, knowing it’s probably coming before I leave here. But that’s maybe why I came. To talk to both of my parents.
They have a beautiful marriage. Not all hearts and roses, of course. But they love each other, respect each other. It’s what I would want for my own.
Marriage.
Am I seriously even thinking this so soon?
“Go for it.”
“Discuss what’s on the table, and what topics are off-limits. And be prepared to make mistakes. Your wife should be your best sounding board, and you’ll need that to succeed in this business. Without burning out, at least.”
I try to shrug off at least some of the seriousness of our discussion.
“We’ve known each other less than two months. It’s not like I’m asking her to marry me.”
Dad gives me a pointed look as if to say,Don’t bullshit me, Tris.
So I try a different tack.
“You think we can make it work?”
He sighs, deeply, broad shoulders lifting and sagging. Is he really giving it more thought? Shouldn’t the easy answer be yes?
“I think you can make anything work that you want to, Tristano.”
My chest constricts, the rare praise usually reserved, at least lately it seems, for Enzo—it’s something I guess I craved more than I’d admitted to myself.
“Thanks, Dad.”
My father stands up, stretches and then leans down to grab his coffee cup.
“Sure thing, kid. Phone’s ringing.”
