She finally sent an email to both girls and proposed they find a time to meet—stating all their fathers had been friends and she’d like to meet them. Virginia Legotti replied she would love to come to Boston and get together. It was arranged to have lunch at the restaurant in the Long Wharf Hotel.
Jessica went early and sat fidgeting, waiting for the other two. The first to arrive was Virginia Santini. As she walked, all heads in the room turned to watch the beauty gracefully strut across the floor. She was medium height, wearing a flowing black-and-white spotted jumpsuit, and spike high heels—her long, thick auburn curls lifting and dropping as she took each step.
Jessica stood as she approached the table. “Jessica Young.”
“Hi, Gins Santini.”
They both sat. “Thanks for coming,” Jessie said. “We have so much to talk about.”
Then Jessica did a double take when another woman made her way toward them. It could be her mother, much younger, but still her mama in the flesh. She put her hand on her chest trying to hold her emotions. Once again, she stood.
“You must be Jessica. I’m Lizzi Legotti.” All the girls acknowledged each other.
“Jessica, you said you live here in Boston in your email,” Gins started the conversation.
“Yes, I’ve lived in the area all my life.”
They ordered drinks.
“What is it you do here?”
“I’m in med school at Harvard.”
“Wow, a doctor,” Lizzi said.
“I looked you up,” Gins continued. “Your dad’s a famous physician.”
“Yes.” Jessica smiled. “I want to follow in his footsteps. And you…” There was a long silence. “I saw online you both are CEOs of a company. That’s amazing.” She looked at Gins.
“My dad’s company,” Gins responded. “He bought it from a man years ago. Party planner.” She giggled. “Actually, a lot more than planning parties. He also worked with a guy in Florida promoting his resorts. That’s where I grew up.”
“I know your father passed. How about your mom, is she in the business?”
“Heavens no, she’s a dancer.”
They all looked at the menus and ordered lunch, then Gins continued her story.
“My parents divorced when I was twelve. Probably should have done it years earlier. You see, my mom, Janet, is a fiery redhead.” Gins twirled one of her long curls with her finger. “Not this color red, but bright red-orange. Boy, does she have a temper! My dad never had a chance for a successful marriage with her. I remember her constantly saying about me, ‘Her name is Virginia, not Gins. She’s not Virginia Anderson.’ Of course, I don’t have any idea who Virginia Anderson is. He always called me ‘sweet Gins.’ I love and miss him so much. After the divorce, I lived with my mother for a while, but it was clear she didn’t want to be tied down with a kid, one she probably didn’t even like.” She paused for a moment. Jessica rubbed on her arm.
“Anyway, I moved in with my dad in Florida. He lived with the client I told you about, Valentino, in this huge mansion in Fort Lauderdale. Beautiful Spanish-style home complete with pool and pool house. There were even men and women models around the pool all the time. Daddy hung pretty tight with one of them named Kat, a dark-skinned Cuban. I don’t think she was any more than a bed partner, but I like her. And Valentino has a yacht. I love going out to sea on it. Ahhh…” The other two girls were listening intently.
Lunch was served, and Gins told them more about living in Florida, how she and her dad drove around in expensive fancy cars.
“Sounds like a great childhood,” Lizzi said.
“How about you, Lizzi, where did you grow up?” Gins asked.
“Peru.”
“Ooo,” both the other girls said. “Fancy you,” Gins said.
“And New York City… Papa and I went back and forth from Peru to our place in the city. Then when I was fifteen, I started boarding school there.”
“I’ll bet Peru is beautiful.” Gins turned more toward Lizzi, interested in her story.
“My favorite place in the world. My dad just died recently, and I took over his business.”
“Wow, we must really love our dads,” Gins said. “What’s your business?”
“We dig water wells for underdeveloped countries.”
“Oh.” Gins sat back in her chair after finishing her sandwich. “You like digging wells?”
“No, not so much. I am an engineer, mostly because my dad wanted me in the business. But I’m thinking about selling the company.”
“Then what will you do?”
“My papa left me a lot of money. I’m thinking about taking some time off and see if I can’t find myself. Maybe France or Asia.”
“And your mom?” Gins kept asking questions, finding Lizzi quite interesting.
“Never met her. I think she might have died when I was born. My papa didn’t tell me how she died. I was born in Peru and raised by my Niñera—always thinking my mama was Peruvian.”
Lizzi told the two women about all the wonderful places in South America and other parts of the world her papa had taken her.
When they ordered coffee, Jessica realized the restaurant was nearly empty. She had no idea what time it was, and she didn’t care. She was interested in the lives of Lizzi and Gins.
“How about you, Jessica? What was life like growing up for you?” Lizzi asked.
“I didn’t have the exotic lives you two had, but I wouldn’t want my life to be any different—lived in the same house my whole life, went to public school with the same kids. We were all involved with the church and enjoyed the country club my parents belonged to. The best childhood ever.”
“Your dad’s a neurologist, I saw online. In
