Emma and Nicole were walking toward them, both in sundresses.
The closer they came, the more details he soaked in.
Emma’s hair was down and straightened. Not the curly locks he’d seen most of the day before, especially after getting caught in the rain.
He knew, before she turned, that the dress she wore was backless. He also noticed that her arms were nearly the color of her hair.
“There you are,” Nicole said. “Where did you disappear to today?”
“I’ve been around. Slept in.” His eyes found Emma’s. “Spent the day by the pool, did you?”
“I burn easy.”
“Young lady, you’re going to end up with skin cancer if you’re not careful,” Jean chided.
“I’ll use a higher-SPF sunscreen the next time.”
Carol nudged Gio. “What you need is a big, strong man to rub it in.”
“You’re terrible, Carol. Leave those kids alone,” Diane said.
Gio couldn’t let Emma’s gaze go.
“Happy to help,” he said.
“I bet.”
“Are Kimmy and Weston joining us tonight?” Rob asked the group. The anniversary couple spent half of their nights alone. But they always emerged looking refreshed.
“I overheard Weston asking for food to be delivered to their room,” Carol told him.
Nicole pulled out her cell phone and started taking pictures. “Squish in, everyone.”
“You two in the middle,” Carol instructed Gio and Emma.
Gio placed his arm around Emma’s waist and used the opportunity to whisper in her ear. “Your sunburned nose is adorable.”
Her smile radiated.
“Ready?” Nicole asked.
The Golden Girls flanked them while Nicole took several pictures.
They dispersed and the older women moved toward the table. Gio walked with them and helped them with their chairs.
“Your mother sure did raise you right,” Barbara told him.
“I’ll be sure and tell her that when I’m home, Ms. Barbara.”
Gio took a seat opposite Emma, which felt safer. Only every time he looked up, he caught her eyes.
Maybe the other end of the table would have been a better idea.
Wine was poured and the plates of food traveled around.
“Is it true that the farther north we get, the more chances we have of tasting white wines?” The question came from Jean.
Both Gio and Emma answered at the same time. “Yes.”
“Oh, good. I do like whites better.”
“That doesn’t seem to be stopping you from drinking and buying,” Rob said, laughing.
“I know, but my digestion—”
“Is not something anyone here wants to hear about,” Barbara interrupted.
Jean pointed a finger around those at the table. “Just wait. You’ll all get there.”
“Ladies.” Gio directed his attention to the four oldest women at the table. “Since you might be a few years older than some of us. Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
Diane spoke up. “As long as you leave out age, weight, and religion.”
“I would never be so personal. No, I want to know what life advice you might care to share. That one thing you did, or maybe wish you had done, if you could roll back the clock thirty years.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Jean started. “I wouldn’t have married my first husband. Too young. I would have spent that time sleeping around.”
Carol huffed. “You made up for it in the last five years.”
“Yeah, but they’re all old. One round, if that.”
Gio glanced at Emma and Nicole, both of which were holding back their laughter.
“What about you, Carol?” Gio asked.
Carol patted her stomach. “Keep your core, ladies. When getting out of bed in the morning requires a trapeze over your bed, you’ve lost it.”
“That’s not what Giovanni is asking about.” Barbara took her glasses off and started to clean them with the edge of her shirt. “Don’t work so hard that you miss out. I’ve had two husbands. Edward, the father of my children. God rest his soul. Worked himself to the bone. He was a great provider, don’t get me wrong. Back then you could have one person making the money. He kept fighting for the next promotion, the next raise. We didn’t need as much as he wanted. Had a heart attack at fifty-eight, recovered, went right back out. Died three years later. Our kids missed out on really knowing their father. He missed the school stuff, the first dates, driving lessons. All of it. My second husband was the same way. He retired at seventy but didn’t know how to live without work. We divorced within two years. Work should be a part of your life, not your only life.”
“That’s deep,” Chris said.
“What about you, Diane? What advice do you have?” Nicole asked.
“Surround yourself with people you love and care about, who feel the same way about you. Sometimes they’re family. Sometimes they’re not. Don’t get hung up on people you think you should love. If you have to think, then you don’t.” She paused, picked up her wineglass. “And take care of your teeth.”
Several people chuckled at that last bit.
“I’m serious. Dentures are why old people eat too much sugar and salt all their food. Nothing tastes the same.”
“I never considered that,” Emma said.
Diane pointed to her mouth. “It’s a big chunk of plastic. I should have gotten implants. Too late now.”
Gio lifted his glass for a toast. “To new friends, and sound advice.”
A chorus of cheers went up.
His glass touched Emma’s, their gazes met. “Salute.”
Emma lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “What do you think about what Diane said tonight?”
“She’s right about the teeth.”
“Not that part, the being hung up on people you think you should love.”
Wearing a T-shirt and ready for bed, Nicole talked from the bathroom, where she was removing her makeup.
“I don’t think she’s wrong. I’ve fought to have a relationship with my sister for years. Do I love her, yeah. But I wouldn’t want to hang out with her. It’s too much work to have a simple conversation.”
Emma nodded, thought of her father, her older brother. “It’s easy with Ryan and my mom. But Richard and my father? I always feel like I’m interrupting their life, their space.”
Nicole finished in the bathroom and walked over to her bed, sat on the side of it. “Now that you no longer work for him, you won’t have to interrupt their space.”
“They’re still family.”
Nicole sighed. “Emma, don’t take this the wrong way . . .”
She looked her friend in the eye. “What?”
“I can see why you’re focused on all things R&R. Why it would bother you so much to be pushed aside. But I can’t help but hear the things Barbara said tonight. Like working so hard that you forget about what you’re working for. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve pushed against the machine. That being your dad, or Kyle . . . what people think you should do versus what you want to do.”
“I wanted to be a bigger part of R&R.”