Debbie Macomber: This Matter Of Marriage

“Debbie Macomber’s gift for understanding the souls of women—their relationships, their values, their lives—is at its peak.”

—BookPage on Between Friends

“Macomber offers a very human look at three women who uproot their lives to follow their true destiny.”

—Booklist on Changing Habits

“Macomber is known for her honest portrayals of ordinary women in small-town America, and this tale cements her position as an icon of the genre.”

—Publishers Weekly on 16 Lighthouse Road

“Debbie Macomber is one of the most reliable, versatile romance authors around. Whether she’s writing light-hearted romps or more serious relationship books, her novels are always engaging stories that accurately capture the foibles of real-life men and women with warmth and humor.”

—Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

“Macomber’s women serve as bedrock for one another in this sometimes tearful, always uplifting tale that will make readers wish they could join this charming breakfast club.”

—Booklist on Thursdays at Eight

“Debbie Macomber is one of the few true originals in women’s fiction…. Her books are touching and marvelous and not to be missed!”

—Anne Stuart

“As always, Macomber draws rich, engaging characters.”

—Publishers Weekly on Thursdays at Eight

“Debbie Macomber shows why she is one of the most powerful, highly regarded authors on the stage today.”

—Midwest Book Review

For Paula and Dianne.

You know why.

I remember watching the Academy Awards and wondering just how long it would take for the awards winner to spout off all the names of those who’d helped along the way. The list seemed endless. While I’m not an Academy Award winner—at least, not yet—I have my own list of people to thank, so please bear with me.

Thanks, first and foremost, to my husband, Wayne, who loved and believed in me enough to allow me to follow my dream. To my agent, Irene Goodman, who held my hand all through contract negotiations. To my best friend, Linda Lael Miller, who taught me everything I needed to know about power-shopping. And thanks to Susan Wiggs for our twice-a-month neurotic lunches.

No writer has been blessed with a better support team. Thank you, one and all.

Working with MIRA has been a writer’s dream. Everything in life should be this much fun. Thank you, Paula, Dianne, Randall, Candy, KO, Stuart and Brian. I hope it was as good for you as it was for me.

One: Starting Now

Two: Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Three: Seven Down, Three To Go

Four: First There Was Paul, Then George…

Five: Bachelor #1

Six: The Loan Ranger

Seven: Make Mine A Double

Eight: Bachelor #2

Nine: Bingo!

Ten: The Lady With The Curve Ball

Eleven: Disappointments

Twelve: Bachelor #3

Thirteen: Bring On The Ice Cream

Fourteen: Does He Wear Panty Hose?

Fifteen: What Friends Are For

Sixteen: Not My Type

Seventeen: She Bakes

Eighteen: Aunt Hallie

Nineteen: Take It Like A Man

Twenty: Chicken Soup For The Heart

Twenty-One: Back In The Saddle Again

Twenty-Two: The Girl Next Door

Twenty-Three: Back In The Game

Twenty-Four: Four Blind Mice

Twenty-Five: When Todd Met Donnalee

Twenty-Six: Second Chance At Love

Twenty-Seven: Large Women Wearing Helmets With Horns

Twenty-Eight: The Movies

Twenty-Nine: Love Is Better Than Chocolate

Thirty: Mr. Nice Guy

Thirty-One: Goodbye, My Heart

Thirty-Two: Wide Awake And Dreaming

Thirty-Three: The Wedding

Thirty-Four: The Wedding Bouquet

Epilogue

January 1

A new year generally starts out with me writing a few inspiring lines about how I’m going to lose five pounds—let’s be honest, it’s ten—and pay off all my credit cards and other high expectations like that. It’s the same every January. But this year’s going to be different. Oh, I still want to lose those extra pounds, more than ever, but for a different reason.

I want a husband. And eventually a family.

And that means I need a plan. Being a goal-oriented person, I usually begin by identifying what I’m after (MARRIAGE!!) and then I work out a logical procedure for getting it. Which, in this case, includes looking good. (Not that I look bad now, if I do say so myself. But I’m talking really good. Are you listening, thighs?) Because, as I’ve learned in advertising, packaging counts.

Putting all this into words is something of an eye-opener for me. I’ve come a long way from those college days when I refused to give in to what I called the “female escape route,” like some of my friends. Cassie, Jamie, Rita and Jane all got married within six months of graduation, and as far as I could see, the only reason they did was because they found the real world more of a challenge than they’d anticipated, and used marriage as a cop-out.

Not me. Oh, no, marriage was much too conventional for me. I wanted to kick some butt in the business world first. Make a name for myself with my very own graphic arts firm. And I’ve done it! Now I feel like I’ve come full circle. I’ve accomplished a lot , and I won’t minimize my achievements, but this Christmas I realized there’s more to life than getting the Woman of the Year award from the Chamber of Commerce.

So, last week I made the decision: Marriage!

It’s time to let a man into my life. Until now I’ve viewed relationships like…dessert. Nice occasionally, but not with every meal. My friends have been tossing potential husbands in my direction for years, and I’ve frustrated them again and again.

I’m too picky, that’s what Rita says. Not true. I have my standards; every woman does. But my work’s the reason I haven’t married. I’ve poured my heart into making a success of Artistic License. For the past six years my focus, my talent and all my energy have been with the business. It’s filled every waking minute.

Then, this Christmas it hit me. I want more . I suspect this has something to do with losing Dad last June. Mom’s still struggling, but then so are Julie and I. The holidays were really hard without him. Somehow, the celebration seemed empty and sad, and we were all kind of weepy thinking about the Christmas things he used to do—getting the tree every year and making a big deal out of hanging the decorations Julie and I made when we were kids. Reading the Nativity story on Christmas Eve. Putting on his Santa apron to carve the turkey. Things like that.

I’m so sorry Dad missed his granddaughter’s first Christmas. I knew Julie’s baby would help Mom through the grieving process, but I didn’t expect little Ellen to have such a profound effect on me.

I’ve always thought of myself as the strong independent type. I haven’t wanted a man around for fear I might be forced to admit I need someone. I don’t know why I’m like this. (Then again, I’m not sure I want to know, either.) The point is, I feel differently now.

It started when Julie gave me the baby to rock. I swear my heart melted when I held her. In that moment I felt something I can only describe as maternal instinct, and I realized this is what I want. This is what’s been missing from my life. A husband, a family.

With the right husband, I know I can have it all. Home, family and career. Plenty of women do it, and I can, too. Funny how a little thing like holding a baby can change a person’s attitude. I’m ready. Past ready. Starting now, my life’s taken an abrupt turn. What was vital a month ago has shifted to the back burner.