The Marriage Portrait

She had such an expectant look of joy on her face, he knew he couldn’t say another word but had to simply open the card and pretend to be thrilled. He guessed it contained a gift certificate to his favorite men’s clothing store.

It didn’t. Inside was an invitation to dinner. Michael glanced at Tessie, who was watching him for his reaction. “Dinner at eight on Saturday?”

She nodded excitedly.

“But with whom?”

“That’s the surprise,” Tessie told him with a gleeful glint in her eye.

“You’ve arranged for me to have dinner with someone,” he repeated the obvious.

“Seven people, actually,” she confessed.

Puzzled, he frowned, trying to figure out what she had planned. Then it hit him. It was probably dinner with seven of the Mums, the ladies his mother met with regularly on the pretext of discussing gardening, but he knew that they were more than a garden club. They were friends. Friends who wanted to help him celebrate his birthday.

A smile slowly spread across his face. “So you are giving me a party, after all,” he said in a knowing tone.

“Oh, no. It’s not a birthday party. It’s a dinner,” she corrected him.

“By any chance is it a dinner with some lovely ladies?” he asked with a sly smile.

“Yes, it is.” She regarded him cautiously. “Did one of the girls let the secret out of the bag? Louella promised me she wouldn’t say anything when she took Toby in for his shots.”

“Louella didn’t say anything,” he reassured her.

“Then how did you know?” Now she was the one looking totally confused.

He reached across the table to pat her hand. “I didn’t. I’m just a good guesser.”

She looked a bit apologetic as she said, “It’s not what you wanted, is it?”

“It’s a lovely surprise.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. I would be happy to have dinner with you and the Mums—provided you make sure they understand that it’s not a birthday party.”

Her brows drew close together. “The Mums?”

“Yes. You said seven ladies. They are the ones you’ve arranged for me to take to dinner, right?”

She gasped. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t give you the Mums for your birthday.” Then she began to laugh and, by the time her laughter was over, she had to remove her glasses and dab at her eyes with her handkerchief.

“What’s so funny about the Mums wanting to have dinner with me?” he demanded.

“That’s not what’s so funny,” she told him. As if it was too much for her, she reached for her water glass. “It’s just that…well, they know about your birthday present and when they hear that you read the invitation and thought it was them…” Again she giggled.

“Just what is my birthday present?” he asked.

“Maybe you should finish reading your invitation.” She reached over and tapped the embossed paper with her fingernail. “You didn’t open it. You just read the front.”

Michael picked it up and flipped it open. Inside was a note that read, “Happy Birthday, Michael. I hope you appreciate the gift your mother has given you and will join us for dinner at eight.” It was signed by a woman named Claudia Dixon, Director.

Puzzled, he asked, “Director of what?”

“Dinner Date. She’s a wonderful woman. So warm and sincere. Doing business with her was a real joy.”

Uneasiness rumbled inside him. “Business? What kind of business?”

“Arranging dinners for people.”

“Then this…” He glanced at the invitation again and saw the small logo at the bottom. “This Dinner Date is a service to arrange dinners?”

“Yes. Isn’t it a lovely idea?”

“If you need help with that, then it’s probably a valuable service.” He reached over to take her hand in his. “But I wish you would have saved your money. You don’t need to arrange a dinner party for me. Your dinners are special enough for me.”

“But this isn’t about having a dinner party, Michael. It’s about meeting people.”

Suspicion began to unfurl inside him. “Who will be at this dinner exactly? If you didn’t invite the Mums, who are we going to be meeting?”

“Not we, Michael, you. You shouldn’t be spending an evening with an old lady like me. You need to be with young people,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

He closed his eyes briefly. Oh no. She’d gone and done what she’d threatened to do for the past ten years. Set him up with the eligible women in town—or at least the ones she knew about. He knew Louella had a granddaughter who was single and so did Edith Larson. And then there was the woman who’d been giving her piano lessons.

He needed to get out of this dinner, but how could he do it without hurting her feelings? “Mom, I’m going to feel a bit self-conscious if I’m the only man with seven women…” he began.

She chuckled. “Oh, you won’t be the only man. There’ll be four women and four men. Claudia knows her business.”

“What men and what women?”

“Oh, I don’t know that,” she said cheerfully.

“Wait a minute.” He straightened in his chair, uneasiness creeping along his nerves like a fog rolling in from the ocean. “How can you not know who you invited to dinner?”

“Because I didn’t invite them. Claudia did. That’s her job.”

Michael picked up the dinner invitation and looked again at the logo. It said, “Dinner Date—bringing people together.” Tessie had said there’d be four men and four women. This Claudia was bringing men and women together.

“Mother, please tell me this isn’t a dating service,” he said, a sick feeling in his stomach.

“It’s not,” she denied emphatically. “Dinner Date is an alternative to dating services. Instead of having to pay a lot of money, fill out all sorts of questionnaires, and then have someone ‘choose’ you as a prospective date, you simply go to dinner with a group of people who have similar interests as you. There’s no matchmaking at all,” she assured him quickly.

“Isn’t the whole thing a matchmaking setup?”

“No, it isn’t,” she told him. “Claudia told me she started her business so that young professionals could enjoy an evening of dinner and good conversation without any of the pressures of dating. It’s simply a way to meet other professionals your age.”

“I have plenty of friends who make great dinner companions.” It was true. He’d never lacked for female companionship. Tessie, however, didn’t know that. Just because he never brought any of his lady friends to meet her, however, didn’t mean they didn’t exist.

“I’m sure you do.” She patronized him by patting his hand. “I didn’t purchase this opportunity for you because I thought you were short of friends. I just wanted to give you a chance to meet some nice young ladies….”

“I have women friends. I know it doesn’t look like it, but I do date,” he tried to convince her, but he could see by the lift of her eyebrows and the tilt of her chin that she didn’t believe him.

“You haven’t brought a single one here to meet me,” she reminded him.

“If I bring one over does that mean you’ll get a refund from this Claudia person?”

“That’s not funny, Michael.”

He hadn’t meant it to be but didn’t have the heart to tell her that. He struggled to find the right words. “I’m not much for dinners with strangers, Mom.”

“It’s simply an opportunity to meet people with similar interests as you.”

“I don’t think I’ll meet them through some dating service.”

“You don’t know that, Michael. Louella says that her cousin Margaret’s son Dennis—you know, the one who’s the optometrist? Well, he was skeptical, just like you. But he went to Dinner Date and guess what?” She paused, waiting for him to ask what.

He didn’t.

“He met a nice young accountant and they’re planning to get married next year.”

He could feel his collar tightening. “That’s fine for Louella’s cousin’s whatever…” He trailed off impatiently. “But I like to choose my own dates.”

“This isn’t a date,” she corrected him. “It’s simply an opportunity to have dinner and meet new people.” She got to her feet to go over to the bureau. She pulled a pamphlet from the drawer and gave it to him. “Here. You can read about it for yourself.”

Michael took one look at the Dinner Date brochure and set it aside with a grimace. “I really don’t want to read about it.”

“You don’t want my gift to you?” From the look of horror on her face, Michael would have thought he’d asked her to put dear old Cleo to sleep.

He wanted to say no, that he wasn’t going to go to any arranged dinner of single people, but there was something about the look in her eyes that stopped him. He raked a hand across the back of his neck. “I hate the thought of you spending money on something like this.”

“But this is the way I want to spend my money,” she assured him. “You work far too many nights and weekends, helping this one or helping that one,” she said with a flourish of her hand in midair. “Please let me give you a nice evening out with young people your own age. Just one dinner where you can talk to others who share your interests.”

He wanted to refuse. Going to dinner with seven strangers who were looking for love through a dating service was not how he wanted to spend a Saturday evening. Yet Tessie never asked for much. She’d raised him ever since he was a small boy, giving him the love and care his own mother hadn’t been able to give to him. How could he say no?

“I really wish you hadn’t spent your money on this,” he said, tapping the side of the invitation against the table.

“It’s worth it if it makes you happy,” she said, coming over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Only it didn’t make him happy, yet he couldn’t tell her that. She’d been so excited to give him the gift. She had no idea how much he disliked the idea.

“You are going to go to the dinner, aren’t you?”

Every instinct inside him wanted him to say no, but before he could say another word, there was a knock at the door.

“I wonder who that could be?” Tessie said aloud, looking as if she knew exactly who was at the door.

Michael’s glance flew to the sideboard. “Probably someone who heard you’d baked two pies.”

She flitted out of the room. When she returned she was accompanied by half a dozen gray-haired women. The Mums had arrived.

To Michael’s dismay, they came with a gift. After greeting each of them and receiving more birthday hugs, he opened the package. Inside was a shirt and tie.

“For your dinner on Saturday,” Louella told him with a twinkle in her eye.

Michael almost said, “I’m not going to dinner on Saturday,” but the group of women gathered around him were the dearest ladies he knew. They’d been mothering him almost as long as Tessie had been.

So instead of telling them he could get a date without their help, he simply said, “Thank you. This will make me look like a man about town.”

They all smiled and ate their lemon meringue pie. Michael knew his chances of getting out of the dinner were between slim and next to none. But Lynn was going on vacation, which meant he’d be the vet on call next weekend.

Maybe there was hope.

Chapter Two

Normally the clinic was open until three on Saturdays. Oftentimes that wasn’t near long enough. Pets—like humans—frequently needed treatment on weekends after the office was closed and Michael did his best to accommodate them.

Only on this particular Saturday, business was very slow. As the hands on the clock moved toward closing time, he knew that unless an emergency arose, he wasn’t going to be able to use work as an excuse for not going to the dinner Tessie had arranged. Nor could he say he lost track of time and forgot. His mother called him at least four times to remind him of her birthday gift.

“It’s certainly been a quiet Saturday, hasn’t it?” Tabitha commented as she sprayed disinfectant over the surgical table. “Hope that doesn’t mean you’re going to have a crazy night. You are on call, right?”

Michael nodded. “Lynn’s out of town for the weekend.”

“Well, let’s hope you’re lucky and you can enjoy what’s left of yours without any interruptions.”

Little did she know that an interruption was exactly what he needed. Unsure of how to approach the subject, he said, “I was wondering if you could do me a favor this evening?”

“What kind of favor?”

“Could you page me at eight o’clock?”

“I guess, but why?” She fixed him with a perplexed stare.

“Let’s just say I’m in a bit of a predicament that I need to get out of without hurting anybody’s feelings.”

“Oh, I get it. I’ll page you and you’ll go to a phone, pretend to call and then announce to whoever it is you’re with that you have to leave. Is that it?” A sly twinkle danced in her eye.

He felt like a fool for having to ask, especially because he could see by the look on her face that she thought he’d gotten himself involved with a woman and didn’t know how to extricate himself.

He debated as to whether or not he should tell her the truth. Tabitha had been a loyal employee for six years, yet he was not naive enough to believe she didn’t talk with the other women in the office.

“That’s it. And it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. It’s…” He paused, then finally decided to take the risk, and said, “The only reason I’m asking you to do this is because of Tessie.” He went on to explain her birthday gift to him, expecting her to find it amusing.

“What a sweet thing to do. I hear dating services are very popular and a great way to meet people.”

“Then you don’t see anything wrong with using one?”

“No, not at all.” She smiled. “Although I have to admit in your case it is kind of funny that Tessie thinks you need help getting a date. Obviously she doesn’t know about…”

“No, she doesn’t. So you can see why I need you to page me at eight. I really don’t want to go to anything connected with a dating service.”

“But you can’t hurt her feelings.”

“Exactly.”

“Very well, boss. At eight o’clock I’ll ring your pager. Anything else you want before I leave?”

“I would appreciate you not mentioning this to anyone else…for Tessie’s sake, of course.”

“Of course. It’s our secret.” She made a gesture as if she had an imaginary key locking her lips.

Michael didn’t like secrets. They had a way of slipping out when one least expected it, but he was relieved he’d talked to Tabitha. Now he could put in an appearance at the dinner and make Tessie happy. He smiled to himself and patted the pager he had clipped to his belt.

Later that evening as he parked his Ford Explorer outside the popular five-star restaurant, it suddenly occurred to him that he was going to be in a very public place and might be recognized. He groaned silently. What he didn’t need was for his friends to learn that he’d gone to a dating service dinner.

He decided to stay in the car for as long as he could to avoid that possibility. He sat listening to the radio, watching other patrons go inside. Every time he saw a single man or woman, he wondered if they were one of the hopeless. For that’s how he viewed his dinner companions. Despite Tabitha’s assurances that dating services had changed and were now an acceptable option as a meeting place for singles, he couldn’t help but regard them as playgrounds of the hopeless.

He watched as the numbers on the digital clock continued to change with each passing minute until he knew he could put off the inevitable no longer. Reluctantly he climbed out of the car and went inside.

At the hostess stand, an attractive blonde wearing a very short skirt and a glittery tight top eyed him with obvious interest as he approached. “One for dinner?”

“Actually I’m meeting some people. I believe the reservation is under Claudia Dixon,” he answered, wishing he could say he was alone. Even eating alone in a fancy restaurant on a Saturday night was preferable to the ordeal he was about to endure.

“You’re with Dinner Date?” The blonde lifted one eyebrow with definite interest and her smile became even friendlier. “Claudia said she had a unique group coming in tonight, but she didn’t tell me it would have so many attractive men in it.”

“You want to join us for dinner?” Michael asked, not one to pass up an opportunity to flirt.

She gave him an equally flirtatious grin as she said, “Wish I could, but duty calls. However, maybe if you’re still here when I get off…” She let the sentence dangle.

“Maybe.” He gave her a promising smile, knowing perfectly well that he would be gone before she had time to rest her pretty little feet.

She looked down at the book in front of her. “You must be Michael.” She scribbled over his name with a pen, then looked up and gave him another smile. “Follow me and I’ll show you where everybody is.”

As he followed her swaying hips, he wished that she was going to be included in the dinner party, but then he realized that the hostess was not the kind of woman that needed anyone to find her an escort. Which only made him wonder again about the men and women who would be at this dinner.

Unsuitable was the first word that came to mind. Normally he didn’t prejudge people, but in this case, he honestly didn’t see what he would have in common with anyone who thought a dating service was necessary to find a date.

Tessie had said the men and women who used Dinner Date were professionals. Professional duds was probably a better description, he thought as each step took him closer to his destination.

“You have a very nice table in the back, very private,” the blonde told him as she escorted him through the dining area.

Michael didn’t comment, but continued to follow her until he caught a glimpse of his dinner companions. They were seated at a round table. He stopped when he saw that all of the chairs had occupants.

The hostess, however, continued toward the table, bending to say something to a woman with red hair, who immediately jumped up when she saw him.

With hand outstretched, she came toward him. “Hi. I’m Claudia Dixon. You must be Michael.”

He shook her outstretched hand, wishing he had never accepted Tessie’s gift. He should have simply told his mother that as much as he loved her, he didn’t want to have dinner with a bunch of strangers.

“Come. I’ll introduce you to the others,” Claudia said, pulling him by the arm over to the table.

The others were all thirty-something professionals who readily shook his hand and smiled warmly as he was introduced to each of them individually. Everyone was identified by first name and occupation. Michael heaved a sigh of relief when he didn’t recognize a single face.

Although all four of the women were attractive, Michael didn’t expect that he’d be asking for any phone numbers at the end of the evening. Not that he could have. As Claudia explained, if anyone wanted to pursue a friendship with any of the participants, protocol required that it be done through Dinner Date. Phone numbers would only be given out through the service and that would only happen if the other person agreed to another meeting.

Michael took his seat between two women and listened as Claudia explained that twice during the meal—after the appetizers had been served and just before dessert—the women would move over one chair in order that everyone had an opportunity to visit with everybody at the dinner. She encouraged them to get to know one another and have a pleasant evening.

“Since my work is done, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. I know you’re going to enjoy this evening and hope that you’ll recommend Dinner Date to other singles.”

Not likely, Michael thought, tempted to loosen the tie that felt as if it were choking him. He still couldn’t believe that he was here and, for the umpteenth time, wished that he hadn’t accepted Tessie’s gift. As he glanced around the table he expected that the others would look as uncomfortable as he felt.

To his surprise, however, very few looked uneasy. He wondered if it was because everyone in this room had done this type of thing before. Maybe they were used to being in a small group and having to break the ice. Or maybe they were extroverts. Or maybe they were all just really lonely and welcomed the opportunity to talk to strangers.

“Is this your first time?” Sharon, the nurse on his right, asked him.

“As a matter of fact it is,” he replied. He wanted to tell her—and the entire group—just why he was sitting at the dinner table with them. He mentally debated whether he should make an announcement, let them know his motives were not the same as theirs. What he didn’t need was for any of the women to think he was seriously looking for a mate.

Because he wasn’t.

Sharon, however, obviously was, judging by the way she was looking at him. “So you’re an animal doctor,” she said, studying him intently.

“Yes.”

“That’s probably why Claudia put us next to each other. We’re both in health care,” she said with a smile that implied they shared a secret. “What do you like to do in your free time?”

“I have very little free time,” he answered.

“Which is why it’s so hard to meet people.” She drew her own conclusion as to why he was there. “I know that feeling.”

To his relief, the appearance of a waitress preempted any further conversation. As she passed out menus and took beverage orders, Michael asked for a Scotch on the rocks.

Although the waitress didn’t bat an eyelash upon hearing his request, he could see that the others weren’t expecting him to order an alcoholic beverage. After hearing everyone else at the table order coffee, tea or a soft drink, he turned to Sharon and asked, “Are we not supposed to drink at these things?”

“Claudia puts nondrinkers together,” she answered. “Did you check the wrong box on the application form?”

He hadn’t checked any box. That was the problem. Here he was at a dinner with people who supposedly had similar interests as he did—or in this case, as Tessie thought he had. He sighed. What had she gotten him into?

Again the urge to announce to the table exactly why he was having dinner with them was great. Except what would he say? That he was only here because his mother made him come? Good grief. He was thirty-five, not thirteen. No, these people wouldn’t understand why he’d attend a dinner simply to please his mother. It was better to say nothing and stick it out until Tabitha called. Then he could beat feet out of the restaurant and never return.

If there was one thing the Scotch on the rocks had done it was to get Sharon the nurse to turn her attention to the man on her right. Michael took a sip of the amber liquid, needing the hot, burning sensation it created as he swallowed it. As he set his glass down, he noticed a pair of eyes on him.

They belonged to a woman Claudia had introduced as Cassie and held a sparkle of amusement in them. She smiled at him and said, “So tell me, what’s it like being an animal doctor, Dr. Michael?”

He liked the sound of her voice. It was low and sultry—more like something he’d find in a lounge singer. A direct contrast to the fair skin and mischievous sparkle in her blue eyes.

“Probably quite different from an artist’s life,” he answered. Before he could say another word, the man to her right interrupted, changing the subject and capturing the artist’s attention.

Michael continued to watch her, surprised by the ease with which she managed to converse with a table of strangers. His initial impression that she was rather shy had obviously been wrong. Of all the guests at the dinner, she looked as if talking with strangers was a joy, not an anxiety.

Although the man to her right tried to monopolize her attention, she managed to include several of the guests in their conversation. Michael thought both men on either side of her appeared to be a bit smitten. Not that Michael blamed them. She was like a painting. The first time you looked at her you saw a pleasant scene, but the longer you stared, the more beautiful she became.

She had a rather free-spirited look to her, with her long, straight blond hair and pale skin. Her eyes weren’t warm, yet there was something about them that begged for you to try to understand the woman behind them. She wore very little makeup compared to the woman he usually dated, but then she didn’t need any. Her skin was as smooth as the petals found on the flowers in Tessie’s garden.