I met her at my daughters eighteenth birthday party. A fresh faced girl with lollipop eyes and lips of raspberry kisses. She had pale hair, almost white but I knew straight away that was an illusion created by the craft of a hair stylist. When my daughter, Rebecca, introduced us her smile poured sweet honey on my soul and I knew I was hopelessly in love. Miserably in love, as age-wise she could have been Rebeccas twin while I, after forty-six summers, was definitely uncle material at the very least. Cindy Holbrook gave a hip-high wave as my daughter told her, "My dad, Peter Farrell"
"Hi mister Farrell." Her voice tinkled in the warm summer air and an image of crystal wind chimes flickered briefly in my mind.
"Charmed, Cindy." Great, I managed not to stutter or drool while my handshake was dry and firm without being overpowering as I grasped her delicate fingers and squeezed briefly. My generation doesnt shake a womans hand. It has never been etiquette with us. I let go and felt a sad tug somewhere inside as if I had just lost something dear to me.
We must have chatted for nearly twenty minutes. Me, managing charm and elocution while Cindy tinkled and giggled at my jokes. I could sense Rebecca becoming restless, wanting to get away from her Daddy for a while to be with her friends so it was expected when she spoke.
"Well daddy. Have a great time huh? Im going to mingle. Coming Cindy?" And they were gone. I glanced around at the moderate crowd on the lawn trying to pick out where she had gone but although I thought Id caught a glimpse of her sky blue dress for a second I couldnt see her anymore.
Bill McGregor approached me, thrust a can of beer into my hand then began a rambling conversation about the worsening economy and the state of the world. I tuned out although I nodded each time he paused for my view. My eyes searched through the throng hoping to spy my angel in the blue dress.
"...Your round I think."
My mind snapped back as Bills damp c... Læs hele novellen
