Page 168 of The Matchmaker's Choice: A Lesbian Romance

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“Yes. Uh, in the backyard?”

“Good.” Dad nods and leads the way out into the

spacious area.

My dad is a lot older than my mom. Thirteen years. He

comes from immigrant parents who moved here when they

were in their mid-twenties, looking for a better life. It was hard

for them, as it is for most new immigrants. They hardly spoke

any English and the Italian community was so different over

here than it was in Italy that they were horribly homesick.

After a while, they settled in. They both got jobs, started a

family, and built a life here.

My dad actually met my mom in college. He was

working as a janitor. She was going to school out of state. She

was eighteen. He was thirty-one. That didn’t stop them from

falling in love. Their f

amilies were against it. That didn’t stop

them either. My dad grew up in New York. My mom was the

one who was from Phoenix. She didn’t want to be far away

from her family, so that’s where they settled. It was she who

encouraged him to go back to school and become a mechanic.

It was she who encouraged him when the only decent job he

could get was selling tires. It was she who stood by him when

he decided to open his own company.

Dad is pretty old school. He’s in his late sixties now,

but only his temples are grey. The rest of his hair is still as

raven black as it always was. He has these massive bushy

eyebrows that I always loved as a kid. Dad was never very

good at expressing his feelings, he’s from a different

generation, but I remember all the times I’d sit on his lap as a

little girl and he’d stare solemnly back at me. I’d wait for it.

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