Sherry sipped at her coffee eyeing her father warily. "Why so chipper?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know," he said. "Girls grow up and become adults and I guess their fathers have to realize this fact." He smiled, sitting there beside her in his bathrobe, then reached out and patted her cheek. "In fact, their fathers have to grow up, too. I realize this now and I want to apologize for my behavior, dear."
Sherry was touched. "That's all right, Daddy. I understand. Everything's going to be all right."
"Of course it is," he said. "In fact, if you like I'll even begin sleeping in another bed from now on. You've grown up, dear. You're entitled to your own life. You have a mind and will of your own."
Somehow the thought of sleeping alone frightened Sherry. She had become accustomed to their after-work talks and lovemaking and Daddy in bed beside her. She did not wish to be lonely – all alone and lonely with nobody to talk to at night and in the mornings. Was Daddy playing some kind of game with her? Was this his way of punishing her? "What's come over you, Daddy?"
"Nothing, my love. Nothing at all. It's just as I said. I realize that I have no right to monopolize your time. Yesterday morning after I returned from the bank I looked all over for you. I found myself excited, even going to a rage because I couldn't find you. I had you paged in the hotel and when there was no response I even had Tony Agnello paged, too. Then I put two and two together. Finally, I calmed down and accepted the fact you have your own life to live. I refuse to work myself into a lather ever again."
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I ran into Tony in the casino and we… we did spend the day together. I-I hope you understand."
"Understand? Of course I understand. That's what I'm telling you. At last I understand. Any fool could see by the way you two were looking at each other backstage last night that you're fond of each other. Who am I to stand in your way?"
"You mean that?"
"Yes, I mean that."
Sherry flung her arms around her father, nearly spilling her coffee cup on the table. "Oh, Daddy, I feel so much better knowing you don't hate me."
They broke from their embrace and Victor Redgrave said, "Has my big girl made any plans with her boyfriend for today?"
"No," Sherry said. "I haven't planned anything."
"Good. I thought we might drive over to the other side of the lake then. I thought we might play a little tennis and have brunch. There are some nice courts over at the North Shore." He chuckled, holding up his hands and backing sway. "Purely platonic you understand. Just lunch and tennis."
"Oh, Daddy," she said. "You're so funny. You're wonderful."
"Up and at 'em," he said. "Let's be on our way, young lady."
Sherry leaped from bed, hurriedly dressed and twenty-minutes later she and her father, wearing their white tennis outfits, were driving along the shore road toward the North Shore. There, they found some excellent public courts, deserted except for an elderly man and woman and what appeared to be their young daughter. They were alternating sets among themselves. Victor and Sherry began rallying leisurely in the late morning sun, the pohng… pohng of the ball on the cement court music to Sherry as they played in the delicious silence of the mountain landscape and the scent of pine. It was good to be young and back in her father's good grace and she played with enthusiasm.
Young or old though, the high altitude made one short of breath, and after three games which Sherry won 6-5, 6-4, 6-2, she and her father were both breathless and agreed to take a long break. They sat on a bench next to the other court and wiped perspiration from themselves.
The other girl and her parents were also taking a break just beyond the fence.
"Pardon me," the white-haired gentleman inquired, "I don't mean to be rude, but aren't you the young lady we saw at the Alpine Hotel last night? Aren't you a singer there?"
"Yes, I work in the lounge at the hotel," Sherry said smiling. "This is my father, Victor Redgrave," she added.
They exchanged introductions and the girl was indeed the daughter of the elderly couple. They were the Whitcombs of Newport Beach, California, and their daughter who was about Sherry's age was Sheila Whitcomb. They were a pleasant though slightly stuffy family and they made small talk about the beauty of Lake Tahoe and show business for a while before they resumed playing tennis. Before they parted Mrs. Whitcomb mentioned that Sheila herself sang and that they would look forward to seeing Sherry perform again in the lounge soon. They, too, were staying at the Alpine Hotel. Mrs. Whitcomb actually said, "Ta-ta," as they parted and continued their respective games and Sherry and her father had to suppress their laughter at the formality of the family. This time, Sherry intentionally let her father win one game and they split 6-5, 6-3 before calling it quits and leaving for brunch at a nearby Swiss restaurant where they ate ravenously.