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Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry

Page 19

by Mary Higgins Clark


  “Have you been to the beach to watch the sunset?” Jennifer asked.

  When her parents answered no, Dr. Manley said, “We’ll pick you up at five-forty-five and ride to the tram together.”

  The tram, an oversized golf cart that would have looked at home in Disney World, was used to shuttle Pelican Bay residents from designated parking areas through the enchanting mangrove forests to the three miles of unspoiled beach.

  A few weeks later the Manleys stopped by for coffee. Mike said, “A villa in our section is being put up for sale.” Six weeks later Gina’s parents became the new owners.

  It was originally a place to escape the nasty New York winters, but by the second year her parents were telling her how much fun Naples was in the fall when it was less crowded. Instead of returning in early April, they stayed through Memorial Day weekend. Following the advice of their accountant, they became Florida residents. It was then that they had encouraged Gina to move into the Upper West Side apartment and treat it as her own.

  Life had been so good for her parents. They loved their life in Naples. Friends from New York had retired to nearby Bonita Springs and Marco Island. Her father had become so smitten with boating that he had purchased a secondhand cabin cruiser that could sleep two. There was always something more to do on the boat, and he loved to stay busy. With Mom as his first mate, they joined groups making overnight excursions up and down the Gulf.

  Then came her mother’s diagnosis. What should have been another twenty plus years of fun morphed into rounds of chemo and radiation, hospice, and then the end.

  And now her father, while tinkering on his boat, had met somebody. I want to be happy for him, Gina thought. But it’s only six months since we lost Mom!

  Gina slowed her pace and walked the remaining half block to her apartment. She was about to cross the street to her building when she glanced into the lighted lobby. Miguel was shaking his head while talking to a man who clearly appeared to be agitated. Ted! He was turning toward the door and about to exit the building.

  If he looked across the street, he would see her. Gina dove to her left and crouched behind a parked Cadillac Escalade. Peering through the windows, she was able to see Ted turn and head east toward Broadway.

  She wanted to run across the street, tap him on the shoulder, and at his surprised expression tuck her arm into his. But she could not. What explanation could she give him? There was none. She knew that if she ever decided to see him, there would be no way she could then stay away from him.

  A brief shiver overtook her as the warming effect of her run was succumbing to the cold night air. Confident that Ted was out of sight, she started to cross the street.

  Miguel approached her in the lobby and began speaking in a hushed tone. Although she knew what had happened, she allowed him to tell her about Ted’s surprise visit. He insisted several times that he had given him no information about her.

  On her way up in the elevator, Gina felt smothered. Her parents’ apartment, now her home, had always felt like a sanctuary, a place where she had complete control. No one entered without her say-so. Safety and solitude were assured.

  But now it had been compromised. If she had finished her jog a minute earlier or had been walking on the other side of the street, she would have come face-to-face with Ted, unable to answer the questions he had every right to ask. Would he try again? Probably. Definitely. He worked long hours during the week. But what would it be like this weekend? Every time she left the building, would she have to check to see if the coast was clear?

  If she were to run in to him, would she blurt out that the reason she wasn’t seeing him was because it would cost him his job?

  Once inside the apartment, she grabbed a bottle of water while making a swift mental calculation. Whoever Meg Williamson was going to have contact her would do so by phone or email. It wouldn’t matter where she was. On Friday morning she was scheduled to update Geoff but had nothing planned for that afternoon. The decision made, she picked up the phone and started dialing. He answered on the first ring.

  “Hi Dad. I don’t want you to be alone on your birthday. I want to help celebrate it. I’m coming down this weekend.”

  “That’s so nice of you, but you don’t have to do that. We just had that great trip together.”

  “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

  “Are you sure you can take the time?”

  “Come on, Dad. That’s one of the upsides of being a freelance writer. As long as I have my laptop with me, I can work. How about I fly down Friday afternoon and stay until Monday? I want to take you to dinner on Saturday.”

  “I guess that would be all right.”

  “Dad, am I hearing some hesitation? If you don’t want me to come—”

  “Of course I want you to come. I was just distracted for a moment.”

  “Okay then. We’re all set.”

  “Text me your flight information and I’ll pick you up at Fort Myers. I know you’re really busy. I’ll take care of making the reservation for Saturday.”

  “Perfect. Looking forward to it already.”

  “Me too. Love you.”

  67

  Three o’clock in the morning. Unable to sleep, Carter went into the kitchen and opened up the second laptop he used exclusively to communicate with Sherman and Junior. He had no idea what their reactions would be to the news that a reporter was nosing around. Full-blown panic? Stay the course? Anything was possible.

  Junior had replied first.

  Keep close eye on the reporter. If any new developments, let me know IMMEDIATELY.

  Sherman’s response had been similar, but it included a suggestion.

  Any chance for a catch and kill?

  Carter thought about the possibility. Would the right amount of money in the right hands make Gina Kane’s investigation go away? Sherman had made the suggestion, so he would certainly agree to make the necessary extra funds available.

  Carter yawned. It might be worth a shot.

  68

  Gina exited the plane and walked through the chute, pulling her small bag behind her. Whenever she could, she preferred to travel light, to avoid the inevitable wait at the luggage carousels. It was easy to get everything she needed for a Friday-to-Monday trip into one carry-on bag.

  She tapped a text to her father. Off the plane. On my way out. She smiled as she pictured Joseph “Jay” Kane waiting in the cell phone lot, not just on time but early, reading his Wall Street Journal while awaiting her text.

  She walked out the door of the terminal just as her father was pulling up. He jumped out, gave her a quick hug, and dropped her bag into the trunk. Gina’s first thought was that he looked great. Then she realized it wasn’t just his tan that was a contrast to his full head of salt-and-pepper hair. It was something else, an undeniable spark that showed in his eyes and his voice.

  After a minute of chatting about her flight, he asked the question that she had been prepping for.

  “So tell me, Gina. How’s my future son-in-law? It was nice of him to send a birthday email.”

  Dad and Ted had liked each other immediately. They were both fans of the New York Giants and Yankees. Both were center of the aisle politically while lamenting how many of their friends were right-wingers.

  She hated lying to her father but couldn’t share the real reason why they were apart. She chose what she hoped would be an acceptable explanation—at least for now.

  “Ted and I have chosen to take a little hiatus. Before making a big decision, both sides need some time to think.”

  “More thinking, Gina? That’s what you were doing while you were in Nepal. Let me give you one piece of advice, and then I’ll keep my mouth shut on this subject. Honey, don’t be a fault-finder. If you’re looking to find something negative about somebody, you’ll always succeed. But you’ll miss out on so many positives.”

  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.

  There was a moment of awkward silence before Gina stepped out of the car and walked into the villa.

  The first thing she noticed was that the picture of her mother and father walking past the palace in Monaco was missing. It was the last trip they had taken before Mom got sick. Her father had kept it on the mantel. She spotted it over in the corner atop a bookcase. Whose idea was it to move it?

  The furniture in the living room had been rearranged. The two matching couches now faced each other, and the casual pillows her mother had crocheted were nowhere to be seen. Several new watercolors, scenes from Pelican Bay, hung on the walls. I wonder what she’s done to my room, Gina thought as she headed down the hall.

  It was exactly as when she had visited her father three months ago. How long will it take for the fabulous designer to get her hooks on this room? Gina asked herself, then stopped. Dad told her all about me, she thought. It’s my turn now. I’m going to find out everything there is to know about her.

  69

  The weekend passed quickly. On Friday evening, Gina quickly agreed to her father’s suggestion that they have a drink while watching the sunset at the beach. Accompanied by Marian, they drove the half mile to the lot where they boarded the tram for the ride through the mangroves. To her credit, Marian did her best to avoid awkwardness. She insisted on sitting in the backseat during the car ride. The tram offered seating for two in each row. Waving away Gina’s offer, Marian climbed in next to a woman by herself, leaving a row for Gina and Dad.

  Gina could feel herself starting to relax. While still wary of Marian, she couldn’t help but notice how happy her father looked. It was a beautiful night so they decided to stay at the waterside restaurant and have dinner.

  Marian was very pleasant. She had taken the time to read Gina’s Empire Review article about the fraternity branding iron and complimented her on it. She knew about Ted and started to ask questions. She let it drop when Gina mentioned the hiatus.

  Gina asked about what type of work Marian had done as a designer. “I worked in set design,” she explained. “Advertising agencies and Broadway producers used our company to create their sets and backdrops.” She’d gone back to school and landed there in the design world right after graduating from FIT. That had been her job until she married her late husband. When she met Jack, he was an investment banker at Goldman Sachs planning to retire at age fifty-five. He told her that both his father and grandfather had died young. He had no intention of keeling over at his desk, and he had made enough money to do what he wanted to do. They moved to Florida and then began taking trips. “It was wonderful,” she said. “A safari in Africa. Lots of cruises.” She wasn’t able to keep working and live the life he wanted to live, so she quit her job as a designer. Unfortunately, Jack did not escape the heart disease
that plagued the men in his family. He survived the first attack but died three months later.

  Her father had told Gina that Marian had two stepsons. She decided to ask about them.

  “I understand you have stepsons?” Gina asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you see much of them?”

  Marian paused before answering. “They have their own lives and I have mine.”

  She nipped that line of conversation in the bud, Gina thought to herself.

  Gesturing toward the water, Marian said, “This is the part I love. When the sun goes below the horizon and the clouds begin to glow.”

  Gina glanced at her father. The glowing was not entirely confined to the clouds.

  * * *

  The buffet dinner the next night at the Naples Bay and Yacht Club was as good as she remembered. After a sushi appetizer, Gina treated herself to a delicious plate of veal. Knowing her father would insist that they have dessert to celebrate his birthday, Gina was grateful she had thought to pack her running shoes. I’ll work it off tomorrow morning, she promised herself.

  A number of club members stopped by the table. She was surprised by how many greeted her father, and Marian, by first name.

  She had not seen Mike and Jennifer Manley, her parents’ closest friends in Naples, since her mother’s death. It was good to see them again, but she was disappointed to see how warmly they greeted Marian.

  Gina did get a chance to speak to them quietly before they went home. “Dad seems to be getting pretty serious about Marian,” she started, but Jennifer jumped right in.

  “Gina, your dad was so lost without your mother. Marian is so good for him.”

  It was not the answer Gina was looking for. Am I the only one having doubts about this situation? she asked herself.

  * * *

 

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