My Rebecca is no longer twenty or even thirty, but we have a very warm and trusting relationship. She tells me everything as a father, and I usually tell her, too. So I usually know when and what the grandchildren are sick, when my son-in-law is on vacation, and even some gossip about Rebecca’s girlfriends. I don’t have much to tell, but I recently met this woman. She had moved into the house next door not too long ago, and we met while we were waiting in line for our pensions at the post office. I think she likes me as much as I like her, but since we haven’t talked about it yet, I was afraid to tell Rebecca, too.
One Friday night my daughter and I were just chatting on the phone when Monica, the same neighbor, rang at the door. Daughter had to say that I’ll call back in five minutes, but I could not call back – I was waiting for fresh hot pies and good company. I sat Monica down for tea, we chatted about things, and I did not hear the phone, leaving it in the hallway. My stupidity and deafness frightened Rebecca. She thought something had happened to me, called me an ambulance, and she and her son-in-law rushed to visit.
Monica and I were sitting in the kitchen, staggering around with pies, when my daughter burst in with the doctors. That’s when I really didn’t feel good.
– Daddy, what took you so long to answer? I was afraid your heart was racing,” Rebecca scolded me afterward, glancing sideways at Monica.
When the woman went to the bathroom, my son-in-law and Rebecca began to ask who it was, how long we had known each other, and why she had brought the pies. I was embarrassed, but had to admit that the neighbor I had been hanging out with lately.
– So communicating that you haven’t even heard the phone,” Rebecca sighed, shaking her head, but smiling slyly at the same time. – Okay, I’m sorry, Daddy, for disturbing and interfering with your “communication.”
By golly, I’ve never felt so embarrassed as a fool. It was like I was a teenager again, and my own daughter was my parent who had caught me on a date.
Monica had just returned to the kitchen, not missing Rebecca’s hinting tone. She’d folded pies for the kids with her, and Rebecca had invited her to a family dinner in return to “get to know her better.” Monica didn’t mind. And when the kids left and we sat in the kitchen again, exhaling the ambulance’s sudden visit, Monica took my hand, making me blush even harder.
Now I would definitely have to report everything to Rebecca. She would interrogate me about every little thing, and squeal into the tube, rejoicing at my affair. And me… What about me? I’ll be happy, too.
