“I gained back five of the ten pounds I lost,” she said plaintively. “I suffered to lose those five pounds. One little slip with the double-fudge macadamia-nut ice cream and they’re back.”
As far as he could see, those few pounds hadn’t hurt her any. He didn’t think she had any cause for concern. Despite having reached the big three-O, she looked just fine.
“I don’t know what made me decide to step on the scale this morning. I told myself I wouldn’t, seeing that it’s my birthday and all.” She downed another swallow of beer. “And there they were.” She fell back against the sofa cushion and closed her eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” Suddenly she gave him a stricken look. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. Usually I only discuss this kind of stuff with Donnalee. You must be a better friend than I thought.”
“Uh, maybe there’s something wrong with your scale,” he said, trying to be helpful.
“I’m not talking about that,” she muttered, although she was touched by his attempt to shift the blame for those five pounds to her scale. “The thing is, according to my goal planner, I should have met him by now.”
She opened one eye and stared at him. He suspected she was asking him to inquire further, which he obligingly did. “Him?”
“My husband-to-be,” she said, enunciating just a little too clearly.
“Oh, yeah. Him.”
“This beer tastes really good.” She finished off the bottle and set it aside.
Steve had barely tasted his. “Have you had dinner yet?”
Her head lolled against the back of the sofa, both eyes tightly shut. She seemed to find the question amusing and smiled broadly. “Not breakfast or lunch, either. Too much work.”
That explained why the beer had gone to her head so fast.
“Then listen, this is your lucky day because I was about to order Chinese. There’s a new place off Meeker that delivers. It’s on me.”
“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me.”
“Exactly.” He walked over to her phone, removed the business card from his wallet and ordered enough to feed them both for two or three meals.
“Donnalee’s in Hawaii,” Hallie said.
He had no idea why she felt the need to tell him that.
“She had flowers delivered.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Very nice,” Hallie agreed.
He noticed that she perked up after the food arrived. The scent of sizzling pepper beef and almond fried chicken wafted enticingly through the compact kitchen. “This is one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever done for me,” she said, arranging two plates on the table and putting water on to boil for tea.
Steve was impressed that she used chopsticks. He did, too, pleased that she was willing to eat in the traditional Chinese way. Mary Lynn had refused to even try and lost patience with him when he insisted on doing so.
Because they were both hungry, they ate in silence. It no longer surprised him how comfortable he felt with Hallie. As he’d explained to his children, he wasn’t romantically interested in her, but he considered her a friend. He’d come to believe that in many ways friendship was of greater value.
“I feel so much better,” she said when she’d finished. She pushed her plate aside, placed her hands on her stomach and slowly exhaled. “Both physically and emotionally. Thank you, Steve.”
“No problem.” He didn’t want her getting all sentimental over a little thing like a bottle of beer and some take-out dinner. “You’ve been a real help to me with the kids on Friday nights. This was the least I could do for your birthday.”
“My thirtieth birthday,” she said.
Afterward Steve wasn’t sure when he’d made the decision to kiss her. It was an impulse, he rationalized later, no doubt prompted by Meagan and Kenny’s questions from the day before.
It happened as he was leaving.
“I’m glad you’re my neighbor,” Hallie said, walking him to the front door.
“I am, too.” He opened the door, then turned and gently held her shoulders.
He saw the surprise in her eyes and wondered if it was a reflection of his own. “Happy birthday, Hallie,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to hers.
As kisses went, it was good. Unexpectedly good. Her lips were soft and pliable, molding easily to his. She smelled and tasted great. Her mouth parted slightly and he found himself deepening the kiss. The ol’ adrenaline started to flow about then, and he drew back abruptly, not wanting things to get out of hand.
She buried her face in his shoulder. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head.
“There’s someone special just waiting to meet you, Hallie,” he whispered, and her hair tickled his nose. “Don’t worry, he’s out there, wondering why it’s taking so long.”
“That’s funny,” she murmured.
“How’s that?”
“I recently told Donnalee the same thing. It sounded much more convincing when I was saying it, though.”
Steve chuckled. “You’ll be just fine.”
She broke away with obvious reluctance. “Thanks again, Steve. For everything.”
He wondered if she was including the kiss.
Sixteen
Not My Type
“Did you have a nice birthday?” Kenny asked, leaning against Hallie’s kitchen counter.
“Very nice,” she answered, lifting cookies hot from the oven off the baking sheet. She’d mastered chocolate-chip and was moving on to oatmeal-raisin. She intended to create a repertoire of baked goods to entice the most discriminating connoisseur. Kenny was an enthusiastic admirer of her baking, but hardly discriminating. Right now, he waited impatiently for the cookies to cool. “Your dad bought me dinner.”
“Dad did?” This bit of news evidently piqued Meagan’s interest. She slid off the sofa where she’d been reading and hurried into the kitchen, joining her brother at the counter.
“It was a kind gesture,” Hallie said. She’d thought about it a lot since Monday night—thought about the kiss too, more than she should. It was a kiss between friends, nothing more, yet she found herself remembering it at the oddest moments. Like this one. But maybe that was good, because Meagan and Kenny were a reminder of how much Steve hoped to reconcile with Mary Lynn.
Unable to wait any longer, Kenny reached for a cookie and burned his hand. “Ouch,” he yelped, sucking on his fingertips.
“Hallie told you they were hot,” Meagan chided. “Where did Dad take you?”
“He ordered in Chinese.” She didn’t tell the kids she’d been so depressed she’d lain on the carpet listening to the saddest blues CD she could find. She’d stacked an entire music menu on her player, including bagpipes, funeral dirges and mournful ballads. Sad troubled music for a sad troubled day.
“Do you like my dad?” Kenny asked, tossing the hot cookie from hand to hand.
“Sure.” Hallie absently scooped dough onto the sheet for a new batch of cookies.
“Enough to marry him?”
“Marry him?” Hallie gave her full attention to Steve’s kids. Both were studying her with dark unblinking eyes. She remembered the kiss again. Although it had been a satisfying kiss, it wasn’t a kiss between lovers or even potential lovers. She could embellish it in her mind as much as she wanted, but she knew very well that Steve wasn’t interested in a more complex relationship. They were friends and neighbors, and that was all.
“You said you liked him,” Kenny said.
Hallie placed the cookie sheet in the oven while she considered how to respond. Something told her the answer was important and she needed to choose her words carefully, a task made more difficult by not knowing the status of Steve’s relationship with Mary Lynn or the likelihood of reconciliation.
“I think your dad’s great. He works hard and loves you kids. I’ve been impressed with what a good father he is.” She paused, wondering how much she should say. Meagan and Kenny continued to study her
as if waiting for more. “I like his sense of humor.” Kenny smiled encouragingly. Recalling how Steve had twice lent her money to pay taxi drivers, she added, “He’s generous and caring.” He hadn’t pressured her into the bowling tournament, either. “He’s a friend, a good one, but—”
“That’s great,” Kenny interrupted her, “but do you like him enough to marry him?”
“Don’t rush her,” Meagan barked, glaring at her younger brother.
Kenny ignored his sister. “You’d make a cool step-mom.”
“You would,” Meagan agreed, nodding.
They were still watching her so intently. Hallie felt a bit unnerved. “I’m glad you think so,” she said slowly, frowning as she glanced from one to the other. “But…”
“But?” Kenny cried. “I hate it when Dad says ‘but’ because it always means no.” His shoulders sagged and he propped his chin on the kitchen counter. “Go on,” he said in a resigned voice, as if he already knew what she intended to say.
“I’m just not the right woman for him.” Honesty was the best policy, Hallie had determined, even if it disappointed her young friends. “Your dad’s a great guy, but he isn’t for me. I hope you don’t mind too much.”
Kenny helped himself to a cooled cookie. “Not too much. That was what I figured you were going to say.”
Hallie was relieved.
“Besides, when we asked Dad, he said almost the same thing.”
Goose bumps rose on the back of Hallie’s neck. “You asked your father about marrying me?”
“Sort of,” Meagan answered.
“And what exactly did he say?”
“That you have a neat personality and everything,” Kenny explained, “but then, like I told you he said almost the same thing you did. You aren’t his type, either.”
“Not his type!” Hallie couldn’t believe her ears. “Well, if that doesn’t beat all,” she muttered under her breath, not wanting the kids to hear.
The timer rang and she grabbed the last tray of cookies from the oven rack with more force than necessary. “Not his type,” she muttered again, her back to the kids. The man’s attitude rankled—never mind whether or not she was being rational.
She clumsily scraped the cookies off the sheet, mangling more than one. Why, Steve Marris would be the luckiest man in the world to marry a woman like her. Of all the nerve!
“Hallie, are you mad about something?” Meagan asked.
“Mad?” she asked, her voice squeaking. “What do I have to be mad about?” She’d wring Steve’s neck, that was what she’d do. How dared he tell his kids he liked her “personality.” That was the kind of thing men said about the women eager mothers pushed on unwilling sons. It was the kind of thing men said about women they found sexually unattractive. But then, what did she expect from a man who’d suggested the way to find a husband was to enhance her bust size?
The phone rang and Hallie whipped the receiver off the wall. “Hello,” she snapped, suspecting it was Steve. Hoping it was, so she could set him straight about a few things.
“Hallie?” Donnalee asked uncertainly. “Is something wrong?”
“Donnalee!” she cried. “You’re back! How was Hawaii?”
“Wonderful. I’m relaxed, tanned and feeling more like myself. Have you got plans for tonight?”
Hallie’s mood lifted instantly. “I suppose you brought me one of those windup hula dolls?”
“Yes,” Donnalee teased, and they both laughed.
Her friend had been gone eight days and it felt like a month to Hallie. “Come on over any time.” Friday night, sitting around with a girlfriend—that pretty well summarized the sorry state of her love life, she thought, smothering a giggle.
“I’ll be there in an hour,” Donnalee promised.
As it happened, Hallie didn’t get a chance to talk to Steve, which was just as well all round. Kenny was looking out the window when Steve pulled up. “Dad’s home,” he yelled, leaping off the sofa. He grabbed his backpack and headed toward the front door.
“Don’t be upset with my dad,” Meagan said, staying behind a moment. “He didn’t mean anything by what he said.”
“I’m not upset,” Hallie assured her. Well, she had been at first, sort of, but as the kids had pointed out, she’d said the same thing about him. It was her ego talking, not her reason. In fact, she felt a little embarrassed over the way she’d reacted—like a woman scorned.
Still Meagan lingered.
“You wanted to ask me something?” Hallie asked.
Generally Meagan was as eager to see her father on Friday nights as Kenny.
“Next week is Take Your Daughter to Work day,” she announced, speaking quickly as though the words were bursting to get out. “Mom’s not working ’cause she’s in school, so I asked Dad about it, and he said I could go to the office with him, but I don’t want to be a machinist. I’m kind of interested in art, though, and I’d like to see what you do, Hallie. Can I spend the day with you?”
The idea appealed to Hallie right away. She recalled herself at Meagan’s age, how she would have given anything to see a commercial artist at work. “That would be wonderful. Are you sure your dad won’t mind?”
Meagan beamed her a wide carefree smile. “He’ll be glad. He’d take me if I really wanted, but it’d be much more fun going with you. Thanks, Hallie.” Meagan gave her a quick shy hug and raced outside.
Hallie walked to the door and watched as Meagan excitedly told her father that Hallie had agreed to take her to Artistic License. Steve looked over to find her standing in the doorway. Hallie waved.
“You’re sure Meagan won’t be a bother?” he called.
“Positive.”
Even from this distance, Hallie could see his relief. He pointed his finger in her direction. “I owe you one, neighbor.”
Hallie shook her head, laughing. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll have a good time.”
True to her word, Donnalee arrived about half an hour later. She hadn’t exaggerated about her tan; she looked bronzed and beautiful. Rested and obviously at peace with herself and her decision.
They hugged and Donnalee presented her with a box of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts. “It’s an emergency supply in case you don’t have any ice cream handy when the next tragedy strikes,” she joked.
Unable to resist, Hallie opened the box, sampled one, gave one to her friend and then promptly stuck them in the freezer and away from temptation.
“Something’s different,” Donnalee observed, studying her.
“Different?”
“Physically,” Donnalee said. “You haven’t done anything to your hair, have you? Something’s up.”
Feeling smug, Hallie threw herself onto the sofa. “That’s an interesting turn of phrase, my friend. What’s up, quite literally, is my bosom.”
“Hallie, you didn’t!”
“I did. I succumbed and got myself one of those enhancer bras.” She was unwilling to admit that Steve had been the catalyst.
“I can’t believe you’d do that,” Donnalee said with more than a hint of indignation. “It’s ridiculous to think that a push-up bra is going to make you a better person—or even help you meet a man.”
“True,” Hallie agreed, feeling a little silly. “But it’s given me a psychological boost, which, after more failures than I care to admit, is one I badly needed.”
“It’s sexist. Those bras take the women’s movement back ten years. It’s degrading.” Donnalee sounded stern and unrelenting. She paused, dragged in a deep breath, then asked, “How much did it cost and where can I buy one?”
Both dissolved into giggles. It felt good to laugh again.
“No, seriously,” Hallie said. “I thought about this. I don’t see it as sexist. It’s no different from makeup or hair spray or anything else women use to enhance their appearance. It’s fun and it makes me feel good, and if it happens to be attractive to men… well, all the better.”
“I know, I know,” Donnalee said
. “Hey, do I smell cookies?” She wrinkled her nose and sniffed loudly.
“I’ve been taking cooking classes,” Hallie admitted with some reluctance, wondering if her friend was going to comment on that, too.
“The old ‘way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’ routine?”
“Yup.” No point in denying it.
“Good thinking,” Donnalee said with a grin. “Why not go for the tried and true? Then, once you’ve lured him and fed him, you can dazzle him with your real personality.”
In that moment Hallie noticed the sadness in her friend’s gaze. She reached for Donnalee’s hand. “Second thoughts about Sanford?”
“Every day,” she admitted. “I really loved him. It’s difficult to turn off my heart. Forgetting him isn’t easy.”
“He hasn’t called or contacted you in any way?”
“No, but then I didn’t expect he would. And I really don’t want him to.” She brushed the hair from her face and inhaled sharply as if struggling to hold back tears. “Hawaii helped. Mom and I had a wonderful time. We slept in every day, lazed on the beach, visited all the tourist places and shopped till we dropped. It was exactly what I needed.”
“And now you’re home,” Hallie said, watching her friend.
“And alone once more. Only…”
“Only now you feel even more alone,” Hallie finished, certain she knew what Donnalee was experiencing.
“Yes,” she murmured.
“Are you going back to Dateline?” Hallie asked. She was preparing to leap back into the dating world herself, with hesitation but resolve. After several weeks’ sabbatical, she was ready to try again.
“I’m going to give it a bit of time first,” Donnalee said thoughtfully. “Some time for myself. The way you suggested. I’m feeling kind of battered.”
“It’s a good idea,” Hallie said. “Step back, evaluate and then move forward from there.”
Donnalee grew quiet. “I remind myself on a daily basis that there’s a man out there for me. Someone who’ll share my dreams.”
“I know there is.” Of this Hallie was confident. For her friend. Although she still had some doubts concerning her own prospects.
This Matter of Marriage Page 12