36
ENZO
Even I had to admit, the Colonel cut a fine figure standing in front of the shop mirror in his navy, silk-blend, shawl-collar tux.
“You could have just told me, you know. I’d have supported your seeing Tessa. Saved us the trouble of having two weddings.” He brushed at his front, checking out his barrel-chested profile. “A little age difference between spouses is a good thing. Hard for a young man to keep up with a woman’s complexities. I should know. I married when I was nineteen before going off to Desert Storm. Tessa was born the next year.” The Colonel’s wife, Tessa’s mom, died young of ovarian cancer. He didn’t talk about it.
I turned to him and said, “I appreciate your understanding, Bancroft. It can’t be easy entrusting another man to take care of her.” I clasped my hands
