Hannah Bernard - Mission - Marriage

But her year of wallowing in self-pity, nursing her broken heart, was up. It was time to move on. Meet new people.

Meet new men.

If only she could figure out the basics. How did one even go about meeting men these days? Meeting the right men? They certainly weren’t showing up out of the blue.

“So, are you seeing anyone?”

Anne the mind reader. Lea shrugged. “No one special.” She didn’t know what it was, a matter of pride or dignity, perhaps, but she felt uncomfortable, sharing her feelings with her settled friends, who had their future all figured out with their husbands and their babies. It felt awkward.

“No one at all, isn’t it?”

Lea shrugged again. “I’ve been busy.”

“It’s been forever since you broke up with the rat. Isn’t it about time you started dating again?” Now her friend’s voice was reproachful. Not a first, either. Emancipation be damned, apparently it was still the single woman’s sacred duty to keep husband-hunting until she found one.

Danny snuggled up to her and yawned.

Husbands did have their advantages. She wouldn’t be getting an obnoxious brat of her own without one, would she?

But the very words “start dating” sent shivers down her back. “Again? What do you mean again? I met Harry my first week in college. Unless you count high school, I’ve never dated in my life.”

“Well, it can’t be that difficult. Everybody’s doing it.”

Lea shook her head. “I’d screw it up. Have you read the women’s magazines lately? They’re writing ten-page articles just on the anatomy of first kisses, let alone anything….” She covered Danny’s ears, just in case what she was about to say would warp him for life. “I glanced at one article at the dentist’s last week. There are rules for what kind of things you can do with a guy your first time together. Can you believe it? You can’t do this, unless he does that, and then only if you’ve done this previously…” She groaned and allowed Danny to twist his head out of her grasp. He waved his fists around, then settled down to sucking his thumb, grumbling quietly to himself, no doubt about the injustice of having been cut off from this educational conversation.

“Rules? Really?” Anne looked fascinated. “I haven’t read those magazines for ages. What kind of things can’t you do unless he does what? Who made up those rules? How do you even know they’re for real? How can you be sure the guy knows about them? What happens if one of you breaks them?”

Lea refused to grin at her friend’s teasing, and took her questions at face value instead. “I don’t know. I barely glanced at the headlines.”

“Did it come with some kind of a flowchart? You know, something like ‘If male does A, do B, else C, unless he does D, in which case go straight to XXX’? Or maybe a checklist to put in your bedside drawer?”

“I don’t know,” Lea repeated, feeling grumpy. This wasn’t funny. Well, maybe it was funny to people to whom it wasn’t relevant, but it was deadly serious to her, who might have to deal with these situations. “I wasn’t interested.”

“You don’t have to be interested. Look at it as homework for dating school.”

Lea rested her head on top of Danny’s head. “I don’t want to learn. It’s scary. Somehow dating has evolved into this intricate game with all kinds of subtle rules and scripts.” She shuddered. “Just thinking about it frightens the hell out of me.”

“Well, if you want to meet guys, you’ll have to,” Anne said rationally. “Mr. Rights don’t show up on their own. You have to go find them.” She snapped her fingers. “Tell you what, I’ll ask Brian if there isn’t someone at work we can set you up with. He works with literally hundreds of guys, after all—there has to be one there for you.”

“No!” Oh, God no, not a blind date. “Anne, I’m not ready. I haven’t even read the first-kiss articles! I’ll have to do some serious research before I dive in.”

“You’ll never be ‘ready,’ Lea. It doesn’t work that way. You just have to do it. Why not give it a chance? One date won’t kill you.” She smiled and held her hands out for her child. Danny squealed with pleasure, squirming to push himself into his mother’s arms.

Lea felt bereft, her arms empty without the child.

“One date?” Anne pushed. “Just to get your toes wet. Look at it as practice.”

Lea began to shake her head, but Danny chose that exact moment to look up at his mother and laugh, then wrapped his arms around her neck and gave her a wet, banana kiss on her chin. Lea felt her heart liquefy and head straight for her ovaries with instructions to prepare for immediate procreation.

If she were planned on ever having children, a man was kind of a necessary evil in the whole process, not only making the child, but caring for it. Being a single mother was not something she had a desire for. A child needed two parents.

Anne was right. It was time. It wasn’t about just grabbing anyone for procreation, but if she had hopes for a future with a family, now was the time to start looking. Who knew how many years that would take? She didn’t have all the time in the world any more. It was time to test the waters.

“Okay,” she conceded. “Just as a practice date. But you better pick someone…not dreadful.”

Anne hesitated. “What’s your definition of dreadful?”

Uh, oh.

Could this be any worse?

Lea groaned under her breath as her date tried for another footsie. She sat up straighter and tucked her feet under her chair. It hadn’t looked too bad at first, not compared to some of the blind dates horror stories she’d read. James was presentable, didn’t pick his nose over the appetizer, and was even a semi-interesting conversationalist, even though his topics of choice all seemed rather similar.

But that was it, as far as the good side went.

For one, he yelled at the waiters and waitresses. Not even in an impolite way—yet—but just as a routine way of getting their attention, his shrill voice echoing from the dark wooden walls of the cozy restaurant. Lea had nearly jumped out of her too-tight heels the first time. The second time, when every single eye in the restaurant had turned on them, a couple of people out of eyeshot even standing up to check what the ruckus was all about, she’d almost slid all the way under the table in an effort to pretend she wasn’t with that man. Her foot had accidentally brushed his—which was when the footsie had started.

Things had gone downhill from there, and they weren’t even halfway through the appetizer yet. Thank God for cocktails.

Anne and Brian would be hearing about this for a long, long time, Lea thought grimly.

There was another couple just two tables away, also on their first date, judging from the snatches of conversation that drifted over. They too were making their way through the appetizer. As James called the waiter over for the fourth time, Lea occupied herself by concentrating on the other couple. The guy was probably in his early thirties, and didn’t yell at the waiters, which currently made him a dream date in her book. Not that his looks hurt any either. The woman was several years younger, her hair long and blond, her laughter loud, and she seemed to have a black belt in flirting.

The blonde obviously knew all the rules, all the in and outs of this mysterious dating culture, Lea thought enviously. She should be taking notes. The show was fascinating. Flip hair, lean forward, show cleavage, tilt head sideways and smile coyly.

Hmm. Only, it didn’t seem to be working. The guy leaned back and seemed rather bored, although his smile was polite enough. He picked up his fork and speared his shrimp, his attention wandering to James who was waving the menu in front of the waiter.