polished wooden desk to shake my hand. The barrel-chested Sicilian was in his late fifties. Casually dressed, he was hairy from the neck-down and bald-shaven on top. While he had a bit of a gut, the old man still had some pretty bulked-up arms. His college wrestling photos and awards filled up a small trophy case on the left side of the den. On the opposite side of the room were two overflowing bookcases. He read everything from Machiavelli to books on engine repair. A pair of comfy leather chairs faced his desk, from which guests could see his perfect backyard through a window behind his broad chair.
“So tonight’s the night, eh?” Mr. Frescanetti asked as he let go of my hand.
“Yeah,” I replied, suddenly nervous for some reason. “How’s it feel? Seeing her on prom night and all?”
Frescanetti shrugged as he gestured for me to sit down. I’ve learned that the best thing to do with a girlfriend’s dad was to get him talking and nod a lot. It made them like me more (at least until I broke their daughters’ hearts).
“It’s bittersweet,” he replied thoughtfully. “I mean, she’s grown into a wonderful young woman and I couldn’t be prouder to have had a hand in that. But …”
“… she’s almost off to college,” I finished.
“Yeah,” Frescanetti smiled fondly as he picked up an old framed photo of Maria from the top of his desk. She grinned through metal braces; a skinny thirteen-year-old posing in a pink sweater. I must’ve ignored her a thousand times in junior high. It was almost hard to believe that she filled out so well.
“So,” Frescanetti looked up at me as he set the photo down. “This is the part where I tell you to behave yourself around my little angel, right?”
I flashed him a devilish smile in reply and nodded.
“I think that’s the tradition.”
As we both chuckled, I noticed a bit of an edge in Mr. Frescanetti’s eyes.
“I trust you, Gil. You know why?”
I kept my smile on and innocently shrugged.
“Because I’m a good judge of character,” he said, leaning back into his chair. “I picked that up from two decades of union negotiations. If you didn’t know how to size up folks pretty quickly, you’d get eaten alive in contract talks.”
“I’d imagine.”
“Yeah,” Frescanetti nodded as he interlocked his fingers across his stomach. “I think tonight’s going to be pretty special. But that’s not why I wanted to have a word with you.”
Huh? I leaned forward a bit, as he looked up at the ceiling to search for the right words.
“I’m more concerned about Maria’s future.”
“I don’t follow, sir.”
“Well, she’s taken a real liking to you. I’d actually say that she’s in love with you.”
Awww shit!
“I was wondering how you felt about my stepdaughter?”
“She’s amazing,” I replied. Strangely enough, I meant it. “Maria’s beautiful, smart, honest, and down-to-Earth.”
“I agree,” Frescanetti replied, pleased by my choice of words. For a second, I thought everything was cool. Then he looked a bit disappointed. “But why are you going to dump her, son?”
I’m sure I had a “shocked idiot” look on my face for a second or two. I decided to roll with it and fake righteous indignation. The whole time, Frescanetti sized me up like we were playing poker.
“You think I’m going to dump Maria on our prom night?!” I asked, playing offended.
“No,” he replied with a sad shake of his head. “I think you’re going to dump my little girl in a couple of months, thus breaking her heart.”
“Look, Mr. Frescanetti, you’ve got me all wrong. I like your daughter. I really do -”
“But you go through women like boxes of cereal. It’s like they don’t mean anything to you.”
They didn’t. But there was no way I’d admit it aloud.
“I guess, considering your childhood, it makes sense that you have attachment issues.”
I was too shocked to speak, so I just sat back and said nothing. Frescanetti leaned forward, put his thick elbows on the desk, and cupped his huge hands in a thoughtful way.
“If my mom left my dad for a richer guy, thus driving my dad to drink himself to death, I’d be a little mad at the fairer sex, too. Still, you can’t go around playing with women’s hearts, Gil. That’s beneath a fella with your potential. Your old man would agree.”
He shouldn’t have gone there.
I was so young that I could barely remember him, lying still in his casket with too much makeup on his face. Whenever someone asked me about my dad, I never mentioned how much I hated him. He was a worthless drunk, who couldn’t keep his marriage afloat or stick around to raise his son. After he died, I was dumped on Aunt Denice, who treated me more as a burden than family. On my eighteenth birthday, I got a valet gig and moved into my own place, just to get away. By then, my respect for women was in the toilet. If it weren’t for the sex, they wouldn’t matter to me at all.
Again, he was right. But I’d never admit it.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied with forced calm. “You’re a retired union negotiator, not a shrink.”
“Both positions are more similar than you’d think,” Frescanetti grinned as he leaned back into his chair. “And I didn’t mean to push any buttons, Gil. I’m just making a point. Maria’s not the enemy. You should give her a fair chance. That’s all I’m asking.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you don’t,” Frescanetti amicably replied. “I’m not going to kick your ass or anything. I’ll just be very disappointed in you.”
“How’s that going to stop me from dumping Maria – if I wanted to?”
His eyes narrowed a bit.
“It wouldn’t. But what goes around comes around, kid. Call it ‘karma.’ If you rack up too much of the bad stuff, it’ll catch up with you … in spades.”
I wanted to call Frescanetti all types of motherfucker. Instead, I forced myself to stay cool, just like in football.
“Is that all, Mr. Frescanetti?”
Frescanetti allowed me a slight grin with his nod.
“Have a good time, call me if you have any troubles, and uh … practice safe sex, willya?”
My shocked expression made him laugh.
“Oh, and please have her back by four, at the latest,” he chuckled. “She’s got
