This Matter Of Marriage. Debbie Macomber

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This Matter Of Marriage - Debbie Macomber


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front door opened the minute the taxi pulled up in front of her place. He loped across the lawn and took out his wallet.

      “How much do you need?”

      “Eighteen bucks. I’ll have it for you tomorrow after noon.”

      He paid the driver, who promptly left. “You all right?”

      Steve asked.

      “No,” she admitted, “but I will be soon enough. Thanks for the loan. Again.”

      “Hey, what are neighbors for?” He smiled, patting her gently on the back.

      Hallie unlocked her front door and walked into her darkened home. She tossed her purse on the sofa, switched on the lights and headed straight for the phone in her kitchen.

      Donnalee answered immediately. “You’re right,” Hal lie said without preamble.

      “I love hearing it,” Donnalee said, “but I’d like to know what I’m right about.”

      “Dateline. I’m calling them first thing in the morning.”

      Her announcement was followed by a short pause.

      “What happened?”

      “You don’t want to know and I don’t want to tell you.

      Suffice it to say I’d pay Dateline double their normal fee if they could find me a halfway decent man.”

      “Oh, Hallie, you poor thing. I’m sure there’s someone out there for you.”

      “I’m sure there is, too, and at this point I’m willing to pay for the privilege of meeting him.”

      Nine

      Bingo!

      March 20

      They say the third time’s the charm. Well, I’m charmed. Dateline took long enough finding me a match, but Mark Freelander was worth the wait. We met last night for the first time. I drove to the restaurant myself—Donnalee advised me to arrive early—only to discover that Mark had, too. We laughed about that.

      I was nervous, but Mark put me at ease. I like him. That on its own is a scary thought. I know it’s too soon to tell, but I could see myself married to someone like Mark. He’s intelligent, well mannered and just plain nice. The kind of guy my mother would approve of. Dad, too, if he were here.

      Mark’s an engineer, divorced, no kids. The fact that he was willing to invest two thousand dollars to find the right woman tells me he’s as serious about this matter of marriage as I am. We’re seeing each other again soon.

      I can hardly wait.

      H allie rolled her grocery cart over to the display of fresh tomatoes and carefully made her selection. She wanted everything to be perfect for this dinner. She’d been dating Mark for two weeks now, and he’d teased her into agreeing to cook for him. Granted, her expertise in the kitchen was severely limited, but she knew how to grill a decent steak. Her antipasto salad—thick tomato slices, mozzarella cheese, Greek olives, roasted red pepper and salami—was impressive; even her mother said so. Add baked potatoes and steamed asparagus, and she’d come off looking like a younger, slimmer version of Julia Child.

      “Hey, Dad, there’s Hallie.”

      Hearing her name, Hallie turned to find Steve shopping with his kids. His cart was filled with frozen pizza, canned spaghetti and a dozen or so frozen entrées.

      “Howdy, neighbor,” Steve called out.

      “Hi, guys,” Hallie replied, pleased to see them. “How’s it going?”

      “Great,” Steve said. “I haven’t seen you around lately.”

      “I’ve been putting in a lot of extra time on a project at work and—” she beamed as she said it “—I’m seeing someone.”

      “Seeing someone?” Steve prompted.

      She looked around and lowered her voice. “I signed up with Dateline. They put me together with Mark.”

      “Congratulations. I knew you’d eventually land on your feet.”

      “Thanks. Mark and I’ve been seeing each other a couple of weeks now, and so far so good.” She held up both hands, fingers crossed.

      “Hey, Dad, ask Hallie,” Meagan urged, pulling on her father’s sleeve. “She’d be perfect.”

      “Yeah, Dad, you can ask Hallie,” Kenny said excitedly.

      Steve ignored the pleas and would have moved on if Hallie hadn’t stopped him.

      “Ask me what?”

      He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

      Clearly he was lying. “Steve!”

      “All right, all right.” He didn’t seem too eager to elaborate. “Would you mind if we talked about this over a cup of coffee?” He gestured at the small round tables set up in front of the grocery-store deli, which sold sandwiches, salads and hot drinks.

      “Sure.” Hallie had to admit to being curious. She followed the Marris family to the deli; while she made sure their carts weren’t blocking the aisle, Steve purchased two cups of coffee, plus hot chocolate for the kids.

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