A Mother's Wish: Wanted: Perfect Partner / Father's Day. Debbie Macomber

see was one radish, a square of cheese—low-fat, she presumed—and a small bunch of seedless grapes.

      “Don’t have any more than the nonfat yogurt for breakfast, okay?”

      Meg nodded, rather than dredge up the energy to argue.

      “Are you going to tell her about dinner?” Brenda asked.

      “Oh, yeah. Listen, Mom, you’ve been a real trooper about this and we thought we should reward you. Tonight for dinner you can have a baked potato.”

      She managed a weak smile. Visions of butter and sour cream waltzed through her head.

      “With fresh grilled fish.”

      “You like fish don’t you, Mrs. Remington?”

      Meg nodded. At this point she would’ve agreed to anything just to get the girls out of her kitchen, so she could recover enough to cook herself a decent breakfast.

      “Brenda and I are going shopping,” Lindsey announced. “We’re going to pick out a whole new wardrobe for you, Mom.”

      “It’s the craziest thing,” Meg told her best friend, Laura Harrison, that same afternoon. They were unpacking boxes of books in the back room. “All of a sudden, Lindsey said she wants me to remarry.”

      “Really?”

      Laura found this far too humorous to suit Meg. “But she wants me to lose ten pounds and run an eight-minute mile first.”

      “Oh, I get it now,” Laura muttered, taking paperbacks from the shipping carton and placing them on a cart.

      “What?”

      “Lindsey was in the store a couple of weeks ago looking for a book that explained carbs and fat grams.”

      “I’m allowed thirty fat grams a day,” Meg informed her. “And one hundred grams of carbohydrates.” Not that her fifteen-year-old daughter was going to dictate what she did and didn’t eat.

      “I hope Lindsey doesn’t find out about that submarine sandwich you had for lunch.”

      “I couldn’t help it,” Meg said. “I haven’t been that hungry in years. I don’t think anyone bothered to tell Lindsey and Brenda that one of the effects of a workout is a voracious appetite.”

      “What was that phone call about earlier?” Laura asked.

      Meg frowned as she moved books onto the cart. “Lindsey wanted my credit card number for a slinky black dress with a scoop neckline.” Lindsey had sounded rapturous over the dress, describing it in detail, especially the deep cuts up the sides that would reveal plenty of thigh. “She said she found it on sale—and it was a deal too good to pass up.” She paused. “Needless to say, I told her no.”

      “What would Lindsey want with a slinky black dress?”

      “She wanted it for me,” Meg said, under her breath.

      “You?”

      “Apparently once I fit the proper image, they plan to dress me up and escort me around town.”

      Laura laughed.

      “I’m beginning to think you might not be such a good friend after all,” Meg told her employee. “I expected sympathy and advice, not laughter.”

      “I’m sorry, Meg. Really.”

      She sounded far more amused than she did sorry.

      Meg cast her a disgruntled look. “You know what your problem is, don’t you?”

      “Yes,” Laura was quick to tell her. “I’m married, with college-age children. I don’t have to put up with any of this nonsense and you do. Wait, my dear, until Lindsey gets her driver’s license. Then you’ll know what real fear is.”

      “One disaster at a time, thank you.” Meg sat on a stool and reached for her coffee cup. “I don’t mind telling you I’m worried about all this.”

      “Why?” Laura straightened and picked up her own cup, refilling it from the freshly brewed pot. “It’s a stage Lindsey’s going through. Trust me, it’ll pass.”

      “Lindsey keeps insisting I’ll be lonely when she leaves for college, which she reminded me is in three years.”

      “Will you be?”

      Meg had to think about that. “I don’t know. I suppose in some ways I will be. The house will feel empty without her.” The two weeks Lindsey spent with her father every year seemed interminable. Meg wandered around the house like a lost puppy.

      “So, why not get involved in another relationship?” Laura asked.

      “With whom?” was Meg’s first question. “I don’t know any single men.”

      “Sure you do,” Laura countered. “There’s Ed, who has the insurance office two doors down.”

      “Ed’s single?” She rather liked Ed. He seemed like a decent guy, but she’d never thought of him in terms of dating.

      “The fact that you didn’t know Ed was single says a lot. You’ve got to keep your eyes and ears open.”

      “Who else?”

      “Buck’s divorced.”

      Buck was a regular customer, and although she couldn’t quite understand why, Meg had never cared for him. “I wouldn’t go out with Buck.”

      “I didn’t say you had to go out with him, I just said he was single.”

      Meg couldn’t see herself kissing either man. “Anyone else?”

      “There are lots of men out there.”

      “Oh, really, and I’m blind?”

      “Yes,” Laura said. “If you want the truth, I don’t think Lindsey’s idea is so bad. True, she may be going about it the wrong way, but it wouldn’t hurt you to test the waters. You might be surprised at what you find.”

      Meg sighed. She’d expected support from her best friend, and instead Laura had turned traitor.

      By the time Meg had closed the bookstore and headed home, she was exhausted. So much for all those claims about exercise generating energy. In her experience, it did the reverse.

      “Lindsey,” she called out, “are you home?”

      “I’m in my room,” came the muffled reply from the bedroom at the top of the stairs.

      Something she couldn’t put her finger on prompted Meg to hurry upstairs to her daughter’s bedroom despite her aching muscles. She knocked once and opened the door to see Lindsey and Brenda sitting on the bed, leafing through a stack of letters.

      Lindsey hid the one she was reading behind her back. “Mom?” she said, her eyes wide. “Hi.”

      “Hello.”

      “Hello, Mrs. Remington,” Brenda said, looking decidedly guilty.

      It was then that Meg saw the black dress hanging from the closet door. It was the most provocative thing she’d seen in years.

      “How’d you get the dress?” Meg demanded, angry that Lindsey had gone against her wishes and wondering how she’d managed to do it.

      The two girls stared at each other, neither one eager to give her an answer. “Brenda phoned her mother and she put it on her credit card,” Lindsey said at last.

      “What?” Meg felt ready to explode.

      “It was only a small lie,” Brenda said quickly. “I told my mom it was perfect and on sale and too cheap to resist. What I didn’t tell her was that the dress wasn’t for me.”

      “It’s going back right this minute, and then the three of us are paying Brenda’s parents