Susan Mallery - Beth and the Bachelor

Twenty minutes later she stood in her kitchen brewing coffee. The day looked clear. Except for a storm a few days ago, there had been nearly three weeks without rain, which meant she was going to have to continue watering by hand. The neighborhood prided itself on green lawns and lush plants. While Matt had taken charge of the mowing, trimming and raking, he wasn’t much for watering.

‘‘Morning.’’

Beth turned around and saw her daughter leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

‘‘Morning, yourself. It’s early for you.’’ She glanced at the clock on the wall and raised her eyebrows. ‘‘Barely nine and on a Saturday, too. Whatever is the world coming to?’’

‘‘Yeah, yeah.’’ Jodi had pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, but hadn’t showered yet. Her long red hair lay tangled on her shoulders. ‘‘I wanted to talk to you.’’

‘‘About what?’’ Beth asked with studied casualness, although she suspected the topic. She poured a cup of coffee for herself and juice for her daughter, then sat at the round kitchen table and set the juice in front of the chair across from hers.

‘‘Last night,’’ Jodi said as she stumbled into the seat.

‘‘What about last night?’’

Beth was stalling and she knew it, but she did not want to have this conversation with her sixteen-year-old daughter…or with anyone else.

Jodi tucked her hair behind her ears and took a drink of juice. ‘‘You said you and Todd just had drinks last night. That he offered you dinner and you declined.’’

‘‘Yes, that’s what I said.’’ It was a lie, Beth thought guiltily, but a small one. On the lie scale, it should barely register.

‘‘But you came home in a cab.’’

Beth silently cursed the beveled glass front door that allowed someone in the family room to see down the length of the house to the street. In the dark Jodi wouldn’t have been able to identify a specific car but she had obviously seen enough to know the yellow cab Beth had taken home was nothing like the dark limo she’d driven in earlier.

She drew in a deep breath. ‘‘Nothing bad happened,’’ she began slowly. ‘‘The date wasn’t working, so I left early. It’s not a big deal.’’

‘‘Did he try something?’’

‘‘No. Matt asked me the same thing. What is it with you two?’’

‘‘We’re worried about you, Mom. You haven’t been out with a man before. Well, you dated Daddy, but that’s different.’’ Jodi shifted in her seat. ‘‘You know what I mean. You’re not prepared for what really goes on when men and women date.’’

‘‘Something you’re expert at?’’

‘‘Of course not. It’s just I have friends with divorced parents. The kids tell me what it’s like for their moms. Men expect certain things. You’re not that kind of woman. I just want to be sure that you’re okay.’’

Beth didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically, hug Jodi close and never let her go, or burst into tears. She settled on a sip of coffee.

‘‘I appreciate the concern. Really. And I swear that Todd Graham was a perfect gentleman. He took me to a very exclusive restaurant.’’ Briefly Beth filled Jodi in on the details, including the lack of prices on the menu and offer of bone marrow flan as a side dish for her boeuf du jour.

‘‘That’s gross,’’ Jodi said, and shuddered.

‘‘Tell me about it. All I could think of was that whatever I ordered would be served on plate that had once held bone marrow flan. It made my stomach queasy.’’

‘‘But Todd was nice.’’

‘‘Very nice.’’

‘‘And you guys talked?’’

Beth thought for a second. ‘‘Actually we did, and that surprises me.’’

‘‘Was he having a good time?’’

‘‘I have no idea,’’ Beth said. ‘‘If I had to guess, I’d say yes. We got along.’’

‘‘So why did he let you leave early?’’

Beth sprang to her feet. ‘‘Gee, I wonder if the bread is ready yet?’’

‘‘Mom?’’

Beth hurried to the bread machine. Darn. There were nearly twenty minutes left on the timer. Maybe if she—

‘‘Mom? Why do you have that funny look on your face? What are you hiding?’’

Exposed by her own child. Beth wondered how she was going to talk her way out of this one. Then she reminded herself that she was the adult in the relationship.

‘‘I’m not hiding anything. Todd didn’t say anything about me leaving because I didn’t give him the chance. I excused myself and sent a note to the table.’’

Silence.

Beth cursed herself for raising children who had opinions and were allowed to voice them as long as they were polite and respectful.

‘‘You left him alone at the table and took off?’’

She turned to face her daughter, took one look at Jodi’s outraged face and wished she hadn’t. ‘‘You make it sound awful. It wasn’t like that.’’

‘‘How was it different from what I’m saying?’’

‘‘I’m sure Todd was relieved to have me gone. I’m not his type. He dates women closer to your age than mine.’’

‘‘But you were on a date, Mom. If Matt or I tried to do something like that, you would ground us for a month.’’

Beth tried to ignore the fact that her daughter was right, just like she’d tried to ignore her own guilt from the night before. ‘‘I had my reasons. I…’’ Her voice trailed off. She returned to the table, sank into her chair and buried her face in her hands. ‘‘Oh, Jodi, you’re right. It was a slimy thing to do and I know better.’’ She raised her head. ‘‘I just couldn’t stand it. The restaurant was so upscale. I felt like some hick from who-knows-where. The women Todd dates appear in the society pages. I didn’t fit in.’’

Jodi still looked shocked, which made Beth feel worse. She hated disappointing her children, not to mention setting a really crummy example for decent behavior.

‘‘I was in the wrong and I’ll apologize,’’ she said quickly. ‘‘I already did in the note, but on Monday morning I’ll arrange to have flowers sent to his office.’’

Jodi’s gaze turned speculative. ‘‘What was he like?’’

‘‘Different than I’d imagined. Nice and charming. I thought he would make me feel that he was hating every minute of the date, but he didn’t.’’ She remembered his teasing comments that he was the expert at dating and that she should let him give her advice. ‘‘He went out of his way to make me feel comfortable with what was obviously an awkward situation for both of us.’’

‘‘So you liked him.’’

Beth smiled at her daughter. ‘‘Don’t even go there. I thought he was a pleasant man, and that was unexpected.

I liked him the way I would like an acquaintance, not the way you would like a boy at school.’’

Jodi grinned. ‘‘Sure, Mom.’’ She stood up. ‘‘I’m going to shower. Can you finish the cinnamon rolls?’’

‘‘Not a problem.’’

When her daughter had left the room, Beth stared out the window at her backyard. But instead of seeing the hedges, plants and grass, she saw Todd’s face. He was a good-looking man with nearly perfect features. His dark blond hair had been conservatively cut, barely brushing the back of his collar. Cool blue-gray eyes added to his air of mystery. He’d had a straight nose, firm mouth and a body that filled out his clothes in a very nice way. Either he had the best set of genes this side of the Mississippi or he worked out regularly.

Jodi’s comment still echoed in the quiet of the morning. So you liked him.

Was that the problem? Had she left her date early because she’d found herself interested in the man? Beth didn’t want to think that was possible. Surely she wasn’t such a coward. But she had an uncomfortable feeling that was exactly what had gone wrong. If she found him charming and attractive, what was not to like? She wasn’t in a position to get involved with anyone—not that Todd would want to get involved with her. She also wasn’t interested in getting hurt. She was thirty-eight years old and she had a bad feeling that like everything else in her body, her heart would take a lot longer to heal than it had at sixteen.