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“Will you get together at your place or at hers?”
“We haven’t decided.”
“Well, text me the address, and I’ll have some things sent over.”
“You don’t have to do that. We can cook, you know,” I teased.
“I know you can, but I want it to be an enjoyable holiday for you.”
Leaning in, I kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I do appreciate that.”
We arrived at the small restaurant and were immediately shown to a table. We were lucky we were early because the place would fill up fast when it got closer to dinner.
“Mr. Levine, you no come to see us in many months!” The elderly woman who owned the place exclaimed as she stopped by our table.
“I know Rosalina, and I apologize. I’ve been very busy. But I missed my girl, so I had to make time to see her before I went out of the country again. And, of course, we had to see you while I was here,” my father explained with a soft smile for the tiny but feisty woman.
Rosalina laughed as she placed a weathered hand on his shoulder. “You are a slick one. I can’t believe you haven’t found a woman to scoop you up.”
My gaze darted to my father, whose smile went tight as he cleared his throat. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
I stepped in to rescue him because I knew this was hard on him. He’d loved my mom so much. “You know there isn’t a woman alive that would put up with my dad’s schedule,” I said with a chuckle. “What’s your special today?”
She recited what the entrée of the night was, and we both chose that. A young, dark-haired boy dropped off glasses of water and a basket of hot buttered Italian rolls. Rosalina said something to him in Italian. He replied, but then she seemed to chew his butt before she glanced over his shoulder and winked at us.
The boy went back to the kitchen, and she whispered, “My great-grandson.” Then she followed him to the back.
My dad was staring at the roll on his plate, but he hadn’t moved to butter it.
“Dad?”
He seemed to startle, and he lifted his gaze to me. He swallowed hard before he murmured, “Luna….”
“Is there a problem with the roll?” I asked, because he was being weird.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. Then he said something that made me feel like the world had just fallen out from under me.
“I’m getting married.”
* * *
Still shell-shocked, I put my leftovers in my fridge.
My dad was getting married. I hadn’t even known he was seeing anyone. He’d always acted like he would never be able to look at another woman the way he looked at my mom.
But now there was Janice.
Janice.
A woman I knew nothing about.
A woman who could be a gold-digger for all I knew.
He explained that they had known each other when they were young, but I was too blown away to hear a lot of what he said.
Janice—the woman replacing my mom. No, that wasn’t true. At least my dad had promised she wasn’t. He said he still loved my mom and always would, but he was lonely. It was on the tip of my tongue to scream, “Then get a dog!”
The rational side of me won out. I knew I was being impractical and selfish, but I simply needed some time to accept the change this meant for our lives. I’d told my dad I wished him all the happiness in the world, and I meant that. He’d looked so relieved after I’d said it, I didn’t have the heart to ask him if he was sure. Nor did I ask if he had her sign a prenup yet, or if he’d told my grandma in New Jersey—Nana Diane was actually my mom’s aunt that had raised her.
