I thought my father kept ruining every first date. Then I found the letter my mother had left behind eight years after her death.
My mother died eight years ago.
For the first three, Dad wouldn’t even look at another woman.
Then, at 68, he finally started dating.
I was happy for him until I noticed a pattern.
Six women in 18 months.
Every first date happened at the same Italian restaurant across town.
And every woman disappeared afterward.
No second date. No explanation. Most wouldn’t even answer Dad’s calls.
When the seventh woman canceled plans to see him again, I’d had enough.
I drove to the restaurant alone.
