This Matter Of Marriage. Debbie Macomber

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      Hallie showered and changed clothes, then phoned her mother who lived across Puget Sound in Bremerton, on the Kitsap Peninsula. Hallie and her father had been close, both in personality and in appearance, but it was from her mother that she’d inherited her artistic talent. Despite her ability, Lucille McCarthy had never worked outside the home. It had always troubled Hallie that a woman so genuinely talented would be content to do little more than keep house. Not until she was an adult living on her own did she recognize her mother’s contribution to the family. Over the months since her father’s sudden death, Hallie had come to appreciate her mother’s quiet strength. At Christmas, she’d encouraged her to take up oil painting, and Lucille had recently begun a class.

      The conversation went well, with Lucille cheerfully describing the portrait she’d started to paint of a sleeping Ellen. Afterward, Hallie wrote her weekly grocery list, threw on a jacket and hurried out the door, eager to finish her Saturday-morning chores. It was when she climbed into her car that she saw her new neighbor. At least, she thought he was the one. He was tall and not as brawny as she’d thought at first glance. Solid, she decided. All shoulders, with good upper-body strength. Handsome, too, in an unobtrusive way. In other words, seeing him didn’t make her heart beat faster—which was just as well, since he was obviously married with children.

      He did have an interesting face, a lived-in face, and seemed the type of person she’d like to know. Not romantically, of course, but maybe as a friend. She turned her attention from him to the two kids at his side. A girl and boy, who were probably about eleven and nine. Great-looking kids. The girl waved, her smile wide and friendly.

      Hallie waved back, inserted the key into the ignition and drove off.

      The moving van was gone by the time she returned an hour or so later. The two kids were riding their bicycles when she pulled into her driveway.

      The girl headed her way, long coltish legs pumping the bicycle pedals.

      “Hi,” she called. “My dad just moved next door.” She stopped abruptly and hopped off the polished chrome bike.

      “So I saw,” Hallie said, leaning across the front seat and removing her bags of groceries.

      “I’m Meagan. That’s my brother, Kenny.” She nodded toward the younger boy, and as if on cue, Kenny joined his sister.

      “You got any kids?” Kenny asked hopefully.

      “Sorry, no.” She balanced both grocery bags in her arms.

      Some of the enthusiasm left the boy’s eyes. “Do you know anyone around here who does?”

      “Unfortunately, I don’t think there are any kids your age on this block.” Most of the couples who’d moved into the complex were just starting out. Hallie suspected there’d be any number of children in the neighborhood within a few years, but not now.

      “Here,” Meagan said, tilting her bike onto the grass. “I can help you carry those in.” She took one bag out of Hallie’s hands.

      “Thanks.” Hallie was touched by her thoughtfulness and said so.

      The girl beamed at the praise. “Mom says I’m a big help to her now that she and Dad are divorced.”

      Meagan’s expression grew sad when she mentioned the divorce. Hallie’s heart immediately went out to her—but she couldn’t help musing that her new neighbor was available, after all. It was an automatic reaction, triggered by her newly activated husband-seeking instincts.

      Hallie briefly recalled her first impressions of him and decided then and there that she wanted someone with a bit more…finesse. A guy who drove a truck with a license-plate holder advertising his big tools didn’t overly impress her. It wasn’t only that, either; she’d seen what the movers had carted into his house. Sports equipment. Boxes and boxes of it. There didn’t seem to be anything this guy hadn’t tried. From mountain climbing to kayaking to scuba diving.

      Hallie led the way into the kitchen, where she dumped her sack on the countertop. Meagan carefully put hers beside it. “Thanks again, Meagan.”

      “Are you married?” the girl asked.

      “Not yet.” But there were visions of entwined wedding rings dancing around in her head. She had a prospect, too. A man she’d just met yesterday, as a matter of fact.

      “Well, gotta go have lunch. See you next weekend,” Meagan said, rushing for the front door.

      As Hallie started to put the groceries away, she saw that the message light on her answering machine was blinking. Probably her mother again, or her sister, Julie, calling to report on baby Ellen’s latest adorable exploit. But what if it was him? Him being the new loans officer at Keystone Bank. Hallie had gone in on Friday afternoon to make her deposits and been introduced to John Franklin.

      The minute she’d laid eyes on him she realized he was everything she sought in a husband. Tall, dark and handsome. Friendly, polite and clearly intelligent. He met all the basic criteria, including availability; she’d noticed the absence of a wedding ring. He was close to forty, she estimated, but that didn’t disturb her. An eleven-year gap didn’t make much difference, not at her age. She’d be thirty in April, three months from now. Surely she’d be engaged by then.

      Unfortunately the message wasn’t from John. It was from Donnalee, who sounded excited and asked Hallie to phone the minute she walked in the door.

      Hallie rang her back. “You called?”

      “I’ve found the answer,” Donnalee blurted.

      “What’s the question?” Hallie grumbled in response; she hadn’t had lunch and was never at her best on an empty stomach.

      “Where do we meet the men of our dreams?”

      “Hmm.” Her friend certainly had her attention now. “Wher?”

      “The answer’s a bit complicated, so stay with me.”

      “Donnalee…”

      “All I ask is that you hear me out. All right?”

      Hallie muttered a reply. This dating thing had been much easier in high school and college. Apparently she’d lost the knack. Oh, there’d been a few romances in the years since, most of them what you’d call short-term. One had lasted the better part of six months, until it, too, fizzled out. The fault, Hallie admitted, had been her own. Gregg had complained about her long hours and her total commitment to Artistic License, and she’d told him that wasn’t likely to change.

      “I found an ad in the Seattle Weekly for a dating service,” Donnalee announced.

      Hallie groaned. As far as she was concerned, only people who were desperate resorted to dating services. She didn’t even want to think about the kind of men who applied to meet women that way. “You’re joking, right?”

      “You promised you’d hear me out.”

      Hallie closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “Okay, okay. Tell me all about it and then I’ll tell you I’m not interested.”

      “This СКАЧАТЬ