Pamela Bauer - The Marriage Portrait

“I’d like to propose a toast,” she said, raising her wineglass in the air. “To another year of good health and happiness in your work.” She clinked her glass against his, then took a sip of the wine. “Now, when you’ve finished eating, I have a surprise for you.”

“You weren’t supposed to buy me a birthday present. I don’t need anything but your love,” he said, reaching across to squeeze her hand.

She smiled. “That’s very sweet of you to say, but I happen to disagree.”

He simply returned her smile and decided to graciously accept the shirt and tie she’d probably spent an afternoon finding for him. Only he soon discovered it wasn’t a gift of clothing that she’d purchased for him. When they’d finished eating, she handed him an envelope.

“Go ahead. Open it. It won’t bite,” she teased as he hesitated.

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.