Debbie Macomber: This Matter Of Marriage

“Good-looking and sensitive,” Donnalee repeated.

“Single good-looking men are hard to find,” Hallie insisted, wondering at her friend’s slightly sarcastic tone.

“That’s because the majority of them have boyfriends.”

Hallie paused. John? Was it possible? “Do you know John Franklin?” Since Donnalee managed a mortgage company, she was familiar with many bankers in the area.

“I know of him.”

Hallie’s suspicions mounted. “What do you mean?”

“John Franklin’s the perfect reason you need the services of Dateline.”

“Oh?” Her confidence was shaken.

“You’re right,” Donnalee continued. “John’s sensitive, friendly, personable and handsome as sin. He also happens to be gay.”

Hallie’s spirits sank to the level of bedrock. John Franklin. Hmm. With some men it was obvious and with others…well, with others, it wasn’t.

“So, are you going to join Dateline?” Donnalee asked.

“Two thousand dollars?”

“Consider it cheap since the men are screened.”

“If Brad Pitt’s out, then for that kind of money they’d better come up with royalty.”

“If they do, kid, I’ve got first dibs,” Donnalee said with a laugh.

“I’ll look into Dateline, but I’m not making any promises.”

“Just call and they’ll mail you a brochure. Phone me once you’ve read it over. Promise?”

“Okay, okay,” Hallie mumbled, and wrote down the number. She replaced the telephone receiver and shook her head. Who’d ever have thought this matter of marriage could be so complicated?

S teve Marris’s day wasn’t going well. A parts shipment was lost somewhere in the Midwest, his secretary had quit without notice, and he suspected his ex-wife was dating again. The parts shipment would eventually be found and he could hire another secretary, but the news about Mary Lynn was harder to take.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and noted that it’d been at least a month since anyone had bothered to clean the glass pot. He’d make damn sure his next secretary didn’t come with an attitude. This last one had refused to make coffee, claiming she’d been hired for her secretarial skills—not that they’d been so impressive. And she’d never understood that in his shop, everybody pitched in. No, he was well rid of her.

He sipped the hot liquid and grimaced. Todd Stafford must have put on this pot. His production manager made the world’s worst coffee. Steve dumped it and rinsed his mug, then sat down at his desk, sorting through the papers amassed there until he found the invoice he needed.

Todd opened the door. “You going to sit in here all day and fume about Danielle quitting?”

Todd was talking about their recently departed secretary. “Naw, we’re better off without her.”

Todd came into the office, reached for a coffee mug and filled it. He pulled out Danielle’s chair and plopped himself down, propping his feet on the desk. “If it isn’t Danielle walking out, then my guess is you’re sulking about Mary Lynn.”

His friend knew him too well. “I heard she’s dating again.”

“Heard? Who from?”

“Kenny,” Steve admitted reluctantly.

“You’re grilling your kids for information about your ex-wife?”

“I know better than that.” Steve experienced a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t intentionally asked his nine-year-old if his mother was dating. Kenny had been talking about joining a softball team in the spring, all excited about playing shortstop. He’d wanted his mother to toss him a few balls, he’d told Steve, but she couldn’t because she was getting ready for a date. The kid had Steve’s full attention at that point. It hadn’t taken much to get Kenny to tell him Mary Lynn was seeing Kip somebody or other.

What the hell kind of name was Kip, anyway? Sounded like a guy who traipsed around in ballet slippers.

“So, what’d you find out?”

Steve ignored the question. He didn’t like thinking about Mary Lynn dating another man, let alone talking about it. What had happened between them was painful even now, a full year after their divorce. An idea struck him suddenly, and he marveled at the genius of it. “I wonder if Mary Lynn might consider filling in here at the office until I can hire another secretary.”

“She hates it here,” Todd muttered. He sipped his coffee, seeming to savor every drop. “You know that.”

What his friend said was true, but Steve welcomed the opportunity to spend time with her. She might even tell him about Kip. “It couldn’t hurt to ask,” he returned, sorry now that he’d said anything to Todd.

“You’re divorced.”

“Thanks, I guess I must’ve forgotten.” Steve glared at him, hoping his sarcasm hit its mark.

“It’s time to move on, old buddy. Mary Lynn has.”

Steve rose abruptly from his chair. “Shouldn’t you get to work?”

“All right, so I touched a raw nerve. No reason to bite my head off.” Todd hurried back to the shop, and Steve swallowed his irritation. Damn it, he still loved Mary Lynn. No one had told him how painful this divorce business would be.

They’d been married twelve years and fool that he was, Steve had assumed they were happy. Then, one day out of the blue, Mary Lynn had started crying. When he’d tried to find out what was wrong, she couldn’t say—except that she was unhappy. They’d married too young, she’d missed out on all the fun, all the carefree years, and now here she was, stuck with a husband, kids, responsibilities. Steve tried to understand her concerns, but everything he said and did only made matters worse. The thing that really got him was her claim that she’d never had her own bedroom. As it turned out, that was more important than he’d realized, because she asked him to move out of theirs shortly afterward.

Steve had called her bluff, firmly believing it was a bluff. He’d voluntarily moved out of the house, thinking that would help her “find herself,” something she apparently couldn’t do with him there. She needed to make contact with her “inner child,” become “empowered” or some other such garbage. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the most sensitive man in the world. She became incensed when he suggested she was watching too many of those daytime talk shows. Then, a month or so after he’d left, Mary Lynn shocked him by asking for a divorce. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, they’d each hired lawyers and were soon standing in front of a judge.

By that time, with attorneys involved, things had gotten heated, and he and Mary Lynn were more at odds than ever. It’d taken over a year to even start repairing the damage the attorneys and courts had done. He was sick of living apart from his family. He wanted his wife back.

Never mind what Todd had said—he would ask Mary Lynn to fill in for Danielle. Just until he could hire another secretary. Just until he could convince her that being apart was pure insanity.

Feeling pleased with himself, he reached for the phone. Mary Lynn answered on the third ring. “Hello,” she murmured groggily.

She never had been much of a morning person. “Hi. It’s Steve.”

“Steve. Good grief, what time is it?”

“Nine.”

“Already?”

He could hear her rustling the sheets in an effort to sit up. During their marriage, he’d loved waking her, having her cuddle against him all soft and warm and feminine, smelling of some exotic flower. Their best loving had been in the mornings.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and yawned loudly.

“Nothing. Well, my secretary quit.”

She went very quiet, and he could almost hear her resentment over the telephone line. “I don’t type, Steve, you know that.”