This Matter of Marriage

by Debbie Macomber

  “That’s me.”

  “Hallie McCarthy.” She placed her hand in his. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here.”

  “You’ve got two terrific kids.”

  “Thanks,” he said, and smiled. He felt that way, too.

  With a nervous motion, Hallie glanced down at the envelope she still held, then shoved it into her purse. “Well, uh, Steve, I have to go. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”

  Steve had caught the logo on the envelope. Dateline.

  He’d heard plenty about the pricey exclusive dating service. Shortly after the divorce, a well-meaning friend had tried to talk him into signing up, but he’d recoiled at the idea of paying two thousand bucks for a date. He’d have to be a whole lot more desperate than he was now before he’d even consider it.

  Hallie raised her head just then. “I… A friend suggested I write for information,” she blurted. Her cheeks had turned a bright shade of pink. “I’d never…” She paused, squared her shoulders and gave him a smile that was decidedly forced. “I want you to know I don’t need any help finding a man.” Head high, with a dignity Princess Diana would have envied, Hallie McCarthy walked to her car. However, the speed with which she drove off kind of spoiled the effect.

  Watching her leave, Steve slowly shook his head. Maybe he should steer the kids away from her. She seemed nice enough, but a little on the weird side.

  Three

  Seven Down, Three To Go

  A rare burst of February sunshine showered Puget Sound, and after weeks of being cooped up inside for her daily exercise routine, Hallie decided to take advantage of this respite from the rain. She donned one of the three coordinated running outfits she’d purchased; it was a lovely teal green with a hot pink racing stripe up the outside of the legs and a geometrical design decorating the zippered jacket. If nothing else, Hallie knew she looked great—and she felt great. Seven of those ten unwanted pounds had vanished. Not without considerable effort, however.

  She wasn’t entirely confident that those pounds were gone for good. Were they hiding around the corner, waiting for her to lower her guard? One day away from the treadmill or succumbing to the temptation of a chocolate-chip cookie and they’d be back. Which was why she’d been so rigorous about her diet and exercise regimen. Three pounds to go, and she’d weigh the same as she had at her high-school graduation, more years ago than she cared to remember.

  Goal weight. What perfectly lovely words they were.

  She hoped she’d manage to achieve it before Valentine’s Day. She’d set the target date back in January, giving herself ample time to reach her physical best. Already she’d let a few select friends—the ones who’d wanted to line her up with their single brothers, unattached male acquaintances and recently divorced colleagues—know she was in the market for a meaningful long-term relationship. She hadn’t heard back yet, but it was still early.

  She opened the front door and stepped into the welcome sunshine. It didn’t take long to realize she wasn’t the only one outside enjoying the warmth.

  Her next-door neighbor and his son were playing catch in the front yard. She was afraid she’d started off on the wrong foot with Steve Marris, but wasn’t sure how to correct that. Of all the rotten luck for him to see the envelope from Dateline! Her mistake had been not keeping her mouth shut. Oh, no, that would have been too easy. She had to go and blurt out some stupid, embarrassing remark. She wanted to groan every time she thought of it.

  “Hi, Hallie.”

  Steve’s daughter raced over to her. With no other kids around her age, Hallie thought, Meagan must get restless spending weekends with her father.

  “Howdy, kiddo. What’re you up to?”

  “Nothing,” she said in a bored voice. “Dad’s teaching Kenny how to be a great shortstop. I don’t like baseball much.”

  “Me, neither,” Hallie said. It wasn’t that she disliked sports; she just didn’t understand the big attraction. A bunch of guys racing around a field or across some ice, all chasing a ball or whatever—what was the point?

  Hallie raised her hands above her head and slowly exhaled before bending forward and touching her fingertips to the walkway. She wasn’t sure of the reason for this, but she’d seen runners do it before a race, and she supposed they knew what they were doing. Warming up or something.

  After a month on the treadmill, averaging two miles a day on a preset course that simulated a run on hilly terrain, Hallie thought she was ready for one real-life mile. From her car speedometer, she knew it was exactly half a mile to the entrance of Willow Woods. She figured she should be able to run there and back without a problem. Actually she hoped she wouldn’t work up too much of a sweat, fearing it would leave marks on her new running suit.

  “What are you doing now?” Meagan asked, watching her go through a series of bends and stretches.

  “Getting ready to run.”

  “You run?” The kid seemed downright impressed.

  “Sure.”

  “How far?”

  “A mile.” That was as much as she wanted to tackle her first time out. If it went well, she might consider longer distances later.

  “Can I come, too?”

  “If it’s all right with your dad.” Hallie shook her arms, then placed her hands on her hips while she rotated her head.

  Meagan quickly ditched her bike on Hallie’s lawn and raced toward her brother and father.

  Hallie felt almost smug. Watching “Wild World of Sports” with Gregg had taught her something, after all. Or was that “Wide World of Sports”? She heard Meagan hurriedly ask permission and felt Steve’s scrutiny before he agreed.

  “Dad said I can,” Meagan shouted, racing back.

  In deference to Meagan, Hallie set a slow rhythmic pace as she started down the road. Meagan picked up the tempo as they rounded the first corner. Within minutes, Hallie became winded. That was understandable, she told herself, since they were running uphill. By the end of the third block, she felt the strain.

  “It isn’t a race,” Hallie gasped when she found the oxygen to speak.

  “Oh, am I going too fast for you? Sorry.” Meagan immediately slowed down.

  An eternity passed before the brick-walled entrance came into view. “I… think I’m… wearing the wrong… kind… of shoes,” Hallie panted. She stopped, braced her hands on her knees and greedily sucked in as much air as her aching lungs would allow.

  There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with her shoes, and Hallie knew it.

  “You okay?” Meagan looked worried.

  “Fine… I feel great.”

  “Can you make it back? Do you want me to run and get my dad?”

  Hallie wasn’t about to let Steve Marris see her like this. She straightened and, with effort, managed to smile and act as if nothing was amiss. The burning sensation in her lungs made it nearly impossible to breathe normally. The good news was that the trek back was downhill. The bad news was that she was half a mile from home with an eleven-year-old kid who could run circles around her.

  “I’m sure my dad wouldn’t mind. He’s real understanding.”

  Hallie lied through her teeth. “I’ll be fine, no problem.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” Leave it to a kid to humiliate her. As for not sweating, that was a lost cause. Perspiration poured out of her, soaking her hair, beading her upper lip and forehead.

  She made a respectable showing on the way back, jogging past her neighbor and his son toward her front porch. She collapsed on the top step and tried to look as if she’d been enjoying herself, which was something of a trick considering she felt like a candidate for CPR.

  “Aren’t you going to cool down?” Meagan asked.

  “I thought I’d take a shower.”

  “Dad says you’re supposed to walk after a run and give your body a chance to catch up with itself.” Meagan strolled about, and Hallie joined her, soon discovering that, yes, this part of her workout she could ha
ndle. A cool breeze refreshed her, and after a couple of minutes her heart settled back into place.

  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 gun-shy. 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?”