This Matter Of Marriage

After thanking Meagan for the company, Hallie turned to enter the house and saw a familiar car round the corner. Donnalee. Pleased to see her, Hallie waved. Both women led busy lives, and although they talked on the phone practically every day, they weren’t able to get together nearly as often as they would have liked.

Donnalee was tall and svelte, a striking woman with thick shoulder-length auburn hair. She unfolded her long legs from the car and stood, wearing her elegance naturally, as much a part of her as her soft Southern drawl. They’d met through a mutual friend five years earlier and quickly become friends themselves. Their friendship had grown close; Hallie had much more in common with Donnalee—especially when it came to attitudes and values—than with her college friends. Most of them had married, and some were already on second husbands—while Hallie had yet to find a first. And she wanted her husband to be her first and last. She wanted a marriage like her parents’.

As professional businesswomen, Donnalee and Hallie shared a great many similar experiences. Over the past couple of years they’d become a support system for each other. If Hallie was having trouble with an employee or a customer or just about anything else, it was Donnalee she talked to. If Donnalee had a problem, it was Hallie she phoned. That they should both feel a need, at the same time, to change the focus of their lives didn’t surprise Hallie. Their thoughts often followed the same paths. They read the same books, enjoyed the same movies, had many of the same tastes. In fact, two years earlier they’d gone shopping separately and purchased the same pair of shoes. The only difference was the color.

Hallie was a personable sort, and she’d had a lot of friends from the time she was in kindergarten, but she laughed more with Donnalee than she ever had with anyone. Laughed and cried. Donnalee was that kind of soul friend. That kind of real friend.

“Did you call them?” Donnalee asked.

“You know I did.” Hallie opened her front door and led the way into the kitchen. She might have lacked culinary skills—she was the first to admit it—but she compensated for that with her artistic flair. The room was bright and cheery, decorated in yellow and white with ivy stenciled along the top of the walls. Hallie removed a plastic bottle of springwater from the refrigerator and poured herself a glass. Her throat felt parched.

Donnalee pulled out a stool at the kitchen counter and declined Hallie’s offer of water with a quick shake of her head. “What’d you think?”

“About the brochure?” Hallie decided to break the news quickly, before Donnalee could talk her into signing up. “I’m not going with Dateline.”

Donnalee didn’t bother to hide her disappointment. “You haven’t talked to them, have you? Because if you had, you’d realize that this is the only practical way to break into the marriage market these days. It isn’t like when we were in college, with eligible men in every direction.”

“I know that, but I want to try it by myself first.” Two thousand bucks wasn’t anything to sneeze at, and Hallie figured the least she could do was try to meet someone on her own before resorting to spending big bucks. Besides, Donnalee made more money than she did; she could afford Dateline. Hallie’s plan was to give it her best shot and wait to see what happened before maxing out her American Express card.

“I called Rita,” Hallie confessed. Rita was the mutual friend who’d introduced Hallie to Donnalee. She had a reputation for being both unpredictable and romantic, and she wasn’t above arranging dates for her friends.

Looking mildly worried, Donnalee leaned forward. “You didn’t tell her I went to Dateline, did you?”

“No, don’t worry. That’s our little secret. All I said was that I had sort of an awakening this Christmas and decided it’s time I committed myself to a long-term relationship.” She smiled at the memory of their colleague’s reaction. “Rita has this theory about my sudden desire to meet a man. She thinks it has to do with losing my dad, so she says I might end up in a situation I’ll regret.” Hallie shrugged comically. “After all these years of her pushing me to date one man or another, I would’ve figured she’d be pleased to know I was serious about getting married.” Hallie paused, remembering the conversation. “When I told her I was ready for a family, she suggested I find myself a guy with good genes, get myself pregnant and dump him.”

“Rita said that?”

Hallie nodded. “Awful, huh?” She liked Rita, made an effort to keep in touch, but they were basically very different kinds of people. For instance, Rita prided herself on saying the most outrageous things.

“I guess that’s an idea if all you want is to have a child,” Donnalee said hesitantly.

“Which I’m not. I’d also like a husband. I’m no fool—I watched my sister with Ellen and I don’t know how she managed. A newborn demanded every minute of her time, even with Jason and Mom and me all helping. Fortunately for her, Jason’s one of those really involved fathers. I don’t know how any woman can manage alone. It’s more than I want to attempt.”

“Me, too,” Donnalee agreed, her drawl more noticeable than usual. Donnalee had moved from Georgia when she was thirteen, but had never quite lost the accent. Unexpectedly she grinned. “Can you imagine us as mothers?”

“Yes,” Hallie said, although it seemed a stretch. She wondered if other women their age went through this. If so, it wasn’t a subject her single friends discussed often or frankly. Many were like Donnalee, divorced and gunshy. Hallie didn’t have that excuse.

“Guess what? Dateline called me yesterday,” Donnalee said, avoiding eye contact. She fiddled with the leather strap of her purse, opening and closing the zipper, a sure sign she was nervous. “They came up with a match for me.” She darted a look in Hallie’s direction.

“Already?” Hallie hated to say it, but she was impressed.

“They faxed over the pertinent information and asked me to review it and call back. So I did. Then Sanford phoned me an hour later and I’m meeting him for dinner this evening.”

“Sanford?”

“I know. The picture of a stuffy conservative type immediately comes to mind, doesn’t it, but then we spoke and…”

“And?” Hallie prodded when her friend didn’t continue.

“He seems, I don’t know, ideal.”

“Ideal?” Dateline was beginning to sound better every minute.

“I’m frightened, Hallie. I felt the same way about Larry when I first met him, but what the hell did I know? I was nineteen and away from my family for the first time. I probably would’ve welcomed attention from a serial killer.”

Donnalee didn’t mention her ex very often. He’d dumped her for another woman after their first year of marriage. Donnalee’s self-esteem had been shattered and her ego left in shreds. It’d taken a decade to regroup, and even then Hallie wasn’t sure some of the damage wasn’t permanent. She could appreciate her friend’s fears and said so.

“But it’s different this time,” Hallie assured her. “You’re not a kid governed by hormones.”

“No, I’m thirty-three and governed by hormones.”

They both laughed, and then Donnalee took a deep breath. “Okay. Sanford’s thirty-six and an insurance company executive. No priors.”

“You mean he doesn’t have a police record?” Hallie certainly hoped not!

“Means he’s never been married. It’s Dateline lingo.”

“Oh.” So the outfit even had a specialized vocabulary. Interesting. Or maybe not.

“We couldn’t stop talking,” Donnalee went on. “Sanford felt the way I did. We both signed up for Dateline the same week. He was just as nervous as I was about doing it. We were at work and we talked for more than half an hour. You know, he put me at ease right off and he said I did the same for him. It was as if we’d known each other all our lives. He loves Tex-Mex food, the same as me. He lives on a houseboat, which I’ve always thought of as wildly romantic. He’ll watch anything Emma Thompson’s in and reads Steve Martini novels. Can you believe it? I know this is all surface stuff, but it helps to know we’re compatible. And at least we have lots of things to discuss.” She broke into a radiant smile. “He was just as surprised and pleased after talking to me. We had trouble saying goodbye.”

“He lives on a houseboat?” This guy was beginning to appeal to Hallie, too. Maybe if it didn’t work out, Donnalee would consider introducing her.

“Now do you see why I’m a nervous wreck?”

Hallie nodded. She wouldn’t be any less nervous herself.

“He sounds too good to be true,” Donnalee moaned. “The minute I meet him, it’ll be over.”

“You don’t know that.” Hallie tried to sound confident, but she shared her friend’s fears. There had to be a flaw in this guy somewhere. People weren’t always what they seemed, and it was often the small undetectable-to-the-naked-eye character defects that threw her.

“At first I wondered why someone this successful and charming hadn’t been married,” she continued, as if thinking out loud, “but his letter explains all that.” At Hallie’s questioning look, she added, “Dateline enclosed a letter he’d written to introduce himself. He’s been waiting to marry because he wanted to pay off his college loans. Financial security is important to him. I respect that. Dateline makes it a policy to check their clients’ credit records. It’s part of the agreement before your application’s accepted.”

Hallie knew immediately that the minute Dateline got hold of her credit card statements, she was headed for the reject pile.

She was about to say as much when the phone rang. Hallie reached for the receiver and through her kitchen window caught a glimpse of Steve Marris with his son. He was showing Kenny how to hold a softball.

“Hello.”

“I hope you appreciate this,” Rita said without preamble.

“Appreciate what?”

“I found you a potential husband,” Rita announced. “Are you interested in meeting him?”

Four

First There Was Paul, Then George…

S teve glanced at his watch again, although he knew it’d been maybe five minutes since the last time he’d looked. He was wrong. It was three minutes. Almost five o’clock Sunday afternoon and Mary Lynn was late picking up the kids, which could mean only one thing.

She was with this faceless, spineless Kip character.

Steve had gotten his ex-wife to admit she was dating again. That was the reason she’d cut him off physically, although she’d been reluctant to admit it. Probably wouldn’t have, if he hadn’t cornered her. It left him wondering whether she was sleeping with Kip, but for reasons having to do with his sanity, he didn’t pursue the thought. If she was, he didn’t want to know.

As for his idea about using Mary Lynn as a replacement secretary, it didn’t turn out to be so brilliant, after all. Mary Lynn was ten times worse in the office than Danielle had ever been. He knew she wasn’t much good around a computer terminal, but he hadn’t realized she didn’t know how to answer a phone. Another few days with her and he’d be out of business. She’d filed invoices, instead of mailing them, and managed to insult one of his biggest accounts. It didn’t take Steve long to recognize his mistake. He quickly hired a new secretary, wrote Mary Lynn a generous check for her trouble and took her to lunch. While still in her good graces, he followed her home, thinking—despite her telling him the sex had to stop—that they’d head for the bedroom the way they normally did when he dropped by in the middle of the day.

But she’d meant it when she’d said no sex. And she’d also told him she was seeing Kip.

Once he’d persuaded her to confess she was dating again, he couldn’t shut her up. She’d met Kip in a bookstore, she told him, smiling at the memory. Steve knew his ex, and she’d never been a reader, which was probably a detriment when it came to school. He couldn’t imagine her buying books for pleasure, something she considered a waste of money. It was clear that her sudden interest in them had nothing to do with enjoyment. Mary Lynn had been looking to meet eligible men. Steve had heard that the singles scene had moved out of the bars and into the bookstores; he supposed this proved it.

Although she’d been more than willing to tell him about meeting the new love of her life, Mary Lynn had kept quiet about what they did together. Curious he might be, but Steve refused to grill his children about their mother’s activities. His gaze shifted to the two kids. Meagan and Kenny were curled up in front of the television watching a Disney video. Neither seemed to notice or care that their mother was late.

He stared out his living-room window. His neighbor was outside vacuuming her car, and he smiled, remembering her embarrassment when she realized he knew she’d been talking to Dateline. So Hallie McCarthy was on the prowl. He wished her well. As far as he could see, she shouldn’t have much of a problem finding a husband. She was actually kinda cute. Petite with dark brown hair that she wore in short curls. She had a nice face, and she seemed friendly, approachable. Certainly Meagan had taken to her right away. Hallie was just fine in the figure department, too.

He wasn’t sure where she worked, but it must be in an office. They’d crossed paths a couple of times in the mornings, and she always maintained a professional appearance. He guessed her to be in her mid to late twenties. Possibly thirty, but he doubted it.

If he had any interest in dating, which he didn’t, Steve would be more attracted to her friend. Now there was a looker. He’d been outside, horsing around with Kenny, when she’d arrived, and he’d practically dropped the ball. The woman was all legs. They went on and on. Shapely legs with a body to match. But Mary Lynn was beautiful, too. With his thoughts back on his ex-wife, Steve moved away from the window.

“Your mother’s late,” he said, hoping he sounded casual and unconcerned.

“Kip’s taking her to a wine-tasting party,” Meagan murmured. Her eyes grew huge, as if she’d said something she shouldn’t.

“It’s okay. Your mother told me she was dating Kip.” Steve didn’t want his children worrying about what they did or didn’t say.

“She told you about Kip?” This seemed to surprise his daughter.

“Yeah.” He sat down between the two kids on the couch and draped his arms around their shoulders. “I bet it’s a little weird to have your mother dating again, isn’t it?” If he was upset about Kip, then it made sense his kids would be, too. He wanted to reassure them that, no matter what happened, they could always count on him.

“Not really,” Kenny said, not taking his eyes from the television screen. “She’s gone out lots before.”

She has ? This was news to Steve.

“First there was Paul, then George.”

What about Ringo? Steve scowled.

“None of them lasted very long,” Meagan supplied.

“And Kip?” Steve wanted to jerk the words away the moment he uttered them.

“Mom really likes Kip,” Kenny said.

“How do you feel about him?” Again this was a question that bordered on the forbidden, but Steve couldn’t keep himself from asking. This was his wife’s—all right, ex-wife’s—boyfriend they were talking about, and ultimately that involved his children.

“Kip’s okay,” Kenny responded with a shrug. “But he doesn’t know much about baseball.”

That bit of information cheered Steve considerably. Kip had taken Mary Lynn to a wine-tasting party. Steve liked wine, too, but he preferred drinking it to spitting it out—wasn’t that what they did at wine-tastings? Not once in their twelve-year marriage had he thought of taking Mary Lynn to something like that. On the other hand, she’d never told him such affairs interested her. One thing was certain, he’d spit wine if it’d help win back his ex-wife.

Steve heard a car door slam and leapt up, racing toward the front door. Mary Lynn was climbing out of her van, and it struck him how happy she looked. Some of that joy faded when she saw him. The words to inform her that she was late died on the tip of his tongue. Mary Lynn could tell time as well as he could. She knew she was late, and reminding her would only serve to widen the rift between them. He wanted to build bridges, not tear them down.

“Did you have a nice afternoon?” he asked, pretending he didn’t know she’d been with Kip.

“Wonderful. How about you?”

“Great. Kenny’s going to make a helluva shortstop.”

Mary Lynn grinned. “Like father, like son.” She glanced past him to the condo. Kenny and Meagan were at the door. “You ready, kids?”

“Why don’t you come inside?” Steve invited. “You haven’t seen the place since I decorated, have you?”

Mary Lynn snickered. “I don’t call moving the dirty-clothes hamper out of the living room decorating.”

“Hey, I’ve got a real sofa and chair now. And a dining-room set.”

“I heard, and I applaud you for replacing the patio furniture and the card table. That’s progress.” She motioned for Meagan and Kenny, who trudged past him, carting their overnight bags.

Steve gave them each a quick kiss.

“Bye, Dad.”

“Bye, Dad.”

Soon his family was inside the van. Steve remained on the sidewalk, waving when they pulled away. He buried his hands in his pants pockets and watched the vehicle disappear.

After a moment he returned to the empty house.

Donnalee was definitely, undeniably nervous. She’d arrived at the restaurant half an hour early for the simple reason that she didn’t want to be the one to search out and identify Sanford. This way, she hoped to have a few moments to appraise him without his knowing.

After thirteen years, Donnalee was finally ready to marry again. But that meant meeting men, going through the whole process of acquaintance and courtship—maybe more than once. Apart from some casual and ultimately meaningless dates, she hadn’t been involved with a man since her marriage. If she wanted to fall in love again, she had to lower her defenses, make herself vulnerable.

That was the terrifying part. She should have gone into counseling following her divorce. Intensive counseling. Any smart woman would have done that. Well, it’d taken Donnalee far longer to get smart than it should have, but she was there now. Savvy. Worldly. Mature.

Those were the very qualities that appealed to Sanford. He’d told her so during their telephone conversation. She sat at the table, facing the door, eyeing everyone who entered. His picture had shown him to be an attractive dark-haired man with strong classical features—but, as Donnalee knew, studio portraits were often deceiving.

A restaurant was neutral territory. Sanford was the one who’d chosen this upscale Mexican restaurant, located in the heart of downtown Seattle. Judging by the succulent scents drifting from the kitchen, he’d chosen well, although Donnalee wondered how she’d manage to swallow a single bite.

A tall distinguished-looking gentleman entered the restaurant and hesitated. Donnalee quickly lifted a pair of glasses from her lap and slipped them on, then peered toward the door. Like an idiot, she’d lost the last of her disposable contact lenses down the bathroom drain and had to resort to her old glasses. But Sanford had seen her picture, too, and he wouldn’t recognize her wearing glasses, so she donned them only when absolutely necessary.

He spoke briefly with the hostess and darted a glance in her direction.

Donnalee lowered the glasses to her lap again and squinted hard. Unbelievable. He even looked good blurred. It was him. It had to be him. If she’d been nervous earlier, it was nothing compared to the way she felt now. As for all her self-talk about being worldly and mature, she felt no evidence of those qualities at the moment.

He approached her table. “Donnalee?”

“Sanford?”

His slow easy smile relaxed her. “Your photo doesn’t do you justice.”

“Yours doesn’t either,” she murmured, meaning it.

Grinning, he pulled out his chair and sat down.

That was the start of the most fascinating night of her life. Hours later, when she phoned Hallie, Donnalee was still in a dreamy swoon. “He’s fabulous. Just fabulous. We talked and talked and talked. We were at the restaurant until midnight. They had to boot us out, so we found someplace else for coffee and talked some more.”

“What time is it?” Hallie asked, with a loud yawn.

Donnalee would never have phoned this late if Hallie hadn’t left three urgent messages, demanding she call the minute she got home. “Two o’clock.”

Hallie gasped. “You mean to say you just got in? But this was just your first date.”

“I know.” Try as she might, Donnalee couldn’t keep the wistful tone out of her voice.

“He’s not there with you, is he?” Hallie’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“No. Good grief, what kind of woman do you take me for?”

“A woman who’s been too long without a man! Was he everything you hoped?”

“More. Hallie, I can’t believe it! He’s warm and gracious, romantic and so much fun. I could have talked to him all night. We walked along the waterfront and held hands.”

“Did he kiss you?”

“Yes…and I even told him about Larry.” The subject of her divorce wasn’t something Donnalee discussed freely or often, and certainly nothing she’d intended to talk about on her first date. When she’d mentioned it to Sanford, she’d made light of it. The marriage was a mistake, she was too young to know what she was doing, that sort of thing. It amazed her how easily he’d read between the lines. His hand had tightened around hers and he’d stopped. With the breeze off Puget Sound ruffling her hair and the ferry gliding across the dark waters, its lights a glittering contrast to the night, he’d placed his hand under her chin and raised her eyes to his. Then, ever so gently, he’d kissed her.

Donnalee didn’t elaborate on the kiss. Hallie was her best friend, but some things you kept private.

“Are you seeing him again?”

“Tomorrow. Today,” Donnalee amended. She’d planned to play this cautiously, and she still would but…she liked this man, liked him so much it frightened her. It was all happening too soon.

“You’re really crazy about him, aren’t you?” Hallie sounded almost disappointed. Surprisingly, Donnalee understood. She knew her friend didn’t begrudge her happiness; Hallie just hadn’t expected her to find the right man this effortlessly. Frankly, neither had Donnalee. So far, Sanford was…perfect. She realized it was too early to say he was the person she should marry—but marriage was a distinct possibility.

“What about you?” Donnalee asked. The last time she’d talked to Hallie, she’d agreed to meet with Rita’s husband’s friend. The one Rita had declared the ideal match for Hallie. “Did Marv phone?”

“Precisely at seven.”

“Isn’t that when Rita suggested he call?”

“Yes, and that worries me. He seems to carry this punctuality thing to extremes.”

“He’s an accountant, so what do you expect? How’d he sound?”

Hallie giggled. “Like an accountant. He couldn’t squeeze in a date with me until next Thursday night.”

“It’s tax season,” Donnalee reminded her. “What do you expect?” she said again.

“I don’t know. Going out with a guy named Marv doesn’t exactly thrill me.”

“You might be surprised. I had a preconceived idea about Sanford, remember?”

“Do people actually call him that?”

“Apparently so. He said when he was a kid, his friends called him Sandy, but that just didn’t suit him anymore. He said I could call him Sandy if it made me more comfortable. But he doesn’t look like a Sandy. He looks like a Sanford. It’s a perfectly respectable name, and so is Marv.”

“Marv,” Hallie repeated slowly. “You’re right. It’s not a bad name.”

“Not at all.” Neither of them pointed out that Hallie had gotten a date—without paying two thousand dollars for the privilege.

“How long did you two talk?”

“A minute,” Hallie murmured, “two at the most. He’s on a schedule.”

Donnalee was beginning to understand her friend’s qualms. “Don’t be too quick to judge him. Who knows, he might turn out to be Mr. Wonderful.”