Danielle Steel - The House

“I could be. What did you have in mind?” Everything about him was wholesome, intelligent, and kind. He treated her like a daughter, not a woman he was pursuing, which was comfortable for Sarah.

“I know this probably sounds silly. But I'd like you to meet my mother. I mentioned it when we met, but it wasn't the right time. She's a pain in the neck as a mother, but she's actually a nice woman. I just had the feeling that you might like her, and she might like you.”

“My, my,” he said, laughing at her, but he didn't seem offended. “You sound just like one of my daughters. She keeps fixing me up with the mothers of all her friends. I have to admit, there have been some real lulus, but I guess at my age, you have to be a good sport about it when you find yourself alone.”

She knew he was sixty-three years old, and her mother was sixty-one, and still a good-looking woman. Sarah was happy to hear that he was dating the mothers and not the daughters. Most men his age were more interested in the daughters, or worse yet, girls who were young enough to be their granddaughters. At times, even at thirty-eight she felt over the hill. And there were fewer and fewer takers for women her mother's age. She knew a lot of Audrey's friends had tried computer dating services, sometimes with good results. But otherwise the men in Audrey's age group, for the most part, were dating women Sarah's age. She thought Tom Harrison would be perfect, as long as Audrey didn't get pushy or aggressive and scare him away.

They made a date for lunch the next day at the Ritz-Carlton, and she called her mother as soon as she got home.

“Sarah, I can't.” Audrey sounded embarrassed. She had been amazingly nice to Sarah for the past month, ever since she'd come to see the house on Christmas. It had somehow given them a common interest and a new bond. “I don't even know the man. He's probably interested in dating you, and he's just being polite.”

“No, he isn't,” Sarah insisted. “I swear, he's normal. He's just a nice, decent, attractive, intelligent, well-dressed widower from the Midwest. People are probably a lot more respectable there than they are here. He treats me like a kid.”

“You are a kid.” Her mother laughed at her, sounding uncharacteristically girlish. If nothing else, she was flattered. She hadn't had a date in months. And the last blind date she'd had had been a total dud. He was seventy-five years old, had false teeth that kept slipping, he was deaf as a stone, rabidly right wing, refused to leave a tip at dinner, and hated everything she believed in. She wanted to kill the friend who had set her up and had been upset that Audrey didn't think he was “sweet.” He wasn't sweet. He was a curmudgeon. And there was no reason to think Tom Harrison would be any better, except that Sarah insisted that he was. Finally, Audrey relented when Sarah reminded her that it was not espionage, open-heart surgery, or marriage, it was only lunch. “All right, all right, what'll I wear? Serious or sexy?”

“Conservative, but not depressing. Don't wear your black suit.” Sarah didn't want to tell her it made her look too old. “Wear something happy that makes you feel good.”

“Leopard? I have a terrific new leopard-print suede jacket. I saw it in a magazine with gold shoes.”

“No! ” Sarah nearly screamed at her. “You'll look like a hooker… sorry, Mom.” Sarah backed off as she could hear her mother stiffen.

“I have never looked like a hooker in my life !”

“I know you haven't. I'm sorry,” Sarah said more gently. “That just sounded a little racy for a banker from St. Louis.”

“He may be from St. Louis, but I'm not,” Audrey said haughtily, and then relaxed a little. “Don't worry about it. I'll figure it out.”

“I know you'll look gorgeous, and you'll knock his socks off.”

“Hardly,” her mother said demurely.

Sarah was more nervous than either of them when she met them both in the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton at noon. She was late, they had both been on time, and were already chatting happily by the time Sarah got there. Tom had figured out who Audrey was. And Sarah was proud of her when she saw her. She looked just right. She was wearing a red wool dress that set off her figure, without looking vulgar. It had a high neck and long sleeves, and she was wearing high heels and pearls, her hair done in a neat French twist. She was wearing a beautifully cut black wool coat over it that she had had for years, but looked well on her. And he was wearing a dark blue pin-striped suit, white shirt, and a good-looking blue tie. They looked wonderful together, Sarah thought, and the conversation flowed like water. She could hardly get a word in edgewise, as they talked about their children, travels, late spouses, interest in gardens, the symphony, ballet, movies, and museums. They seemed to agree on nearly everything. Sarah almost wanted to clap her hands in glee, as she sat quietly eating a club sandwich, and they made their way through soup and crab salad. He talked about how much he liked San Francisco, while Audrey said she had never been to St. Louis, but had always loved Chicago. They talked about so much for so long that Sarah finally had to leave them to go back to the office. She was already late for a meeting, and they were still talking a mile a minute when she left. Bingo! she said to herself, beaming proudly as she left the hotel. Success!

She called her mother late that afternoon when she got out of the meeting, and Audrey confirmed that Sarah was right, he was a lovely man.

“A little geographically undesirable maybe,” Sarah confessed. St. Louis was not exactly around the corner, or easy for a dating situation. But they had each made a new friend. “He has a special needs daughter, by the way, Mom. I think she's blind and brain damaged, and she lives with him.” She had forgotten to mention it to her before lunch, but thought she should at least now.

“I know. Debbie,” her mother said, as though she knew everything about him, and he was her friend, not Sarah's. “We talked about her after you left. Such a tragedy for him. She was premature and got damaged at the delivery. Something like that would never happen today. He said he has wonderful people taking care of her. It must be very hard for him now that he's alone.” Sarah was utterly amazed.

“I'm glad you liked him, Mom,” Sarah said, feeling as though she had won the lottery herself. They had been cute to watch over lunch.

“He's a very handsome man, and so nice,” Audrey went on about him.

“I'm sure you'll hear from him the next time he comes to town. He looked like he was enjoying you, too.” Audrey could be charming when she wanted to be, especially with men. It was only with her daughter that she was so unrelenting at times and could be so tough. Sarah still remembered how good she had been to her father, no matter how drunk he was. And she was absolutely certain that Tom Harrison was not a drunk.

“We're having dinner tonight,” Audrey confessed.

“You are?” Sarah sounded stunned.

“He had other plans with his business associates, but he canceled them. It's a shame he's leaving tomorrow,” she said, sounding wistful.

“It sounds like he'll be back.”

“Maybe so,” Audrey said, sounding unconvinced, but she was enjoying it for now. And so was her daughter. It was perfect. She wished she could do as well matchmaking for herself. But she didn't want to date right now anyway. She wanted some time off after Phil, he had just been too disappointing and too hurtful. And she was busy with her house. For now at least, Sarah didn't want a man. And Audrey hadn't had a real one in a long time.

“Have fun tonight. You looked beautiful at lunch.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Audrey said, sounding softer than she had in a long time. “Mimi can't have all the fun!” she said, and they both laughed. Her grandmother was very busy these days with George, and all her other suitors seemed to have been discarded. She had explained to Sarah after Christmas that she and George were “going steady.” Sarah had almost asked her if she'd been “pinned” or had his high school ring. It was nice to see them happy. There was a sweet innocence about them.