Beth and the Bachelor. Susan Mallery

happening. ‘‘It’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought,’’ she said. ‘‘I know you’re both worried about me and you think it’s time for me to start dating. Maybe it is. Maybe I need a jump-start. But not like this. I don’t need the public humiliation.’’

      ‘‘There isn’t going to be any humiliation,’’ Cindy said earnestly. ‘‘You’re a very attractive woman, Beth. He’s going to adore you.’’

      ‘‘I’m middle-aged, I’ve gained twenty pounds since Darren died, Todd Graham and I have nothing in common. I don’t want to meet the man. I don’t want to be compared with postadolescents who look younger than my daughter. Besides, he’s rich. I hate that in a man.’’

      Mike rose to his feet. ‘‘That’s it. I’m outta here.’’ He crossed to Beth, bent down and kissed her cheek. ‘‘This is about to turn into female talk and you’re going to say things I know I don’t want to hear. Beth, I bought you this date because I thought it would be fun for you. If you don’t want to go because you feel it’s morally wrong, I’ll respect that. If you’re just scared to get out there, then you’re going. If you don’t, I’ll never come over and fix a leaky faucet again.’’

      She glared at him. ‘‘I’ve learned to fix my own faucets.’’ He didn’t answer, he just raised his eyebrows.

      ‘‘Fine,’’ she said. ‘‘I think it’s very rude of you to point out the fact that I messed up the last time. I take this moment to remind you it was a small flood.’’

      ‘‘I mean it,’’ he said. He smiled at his wife. ‘‘See you soon,’’ he told her, and left.

      ‘‘He really meant well,’’ Cindy said when Mike had left. ‘‘He worries about you. We both do.’’

      Beth wanted to bury her head in her hands, but she felt she’d already humiliated herself enough for one day. ‘‘I know. It’s just I can’t do this. I’d feel ridiculous. Like I had to buy a man.’’

      ‘‘It’s worse for him. He was the one for sale. Think of him as slave labor.’’

      Beth knew Cindy was trying to help. Unfortunately no words were going to undo the knot in her stomach. ‘‘I’m not ready.’’

      ‘‘Yes, you are. You’re just afraid. You pushed me to start dating for months after my divorce. You were doing it because you cared about me. I’m returning the favor.’’

      ‘‘I should have kept my mouth shut,’’ Beth mumbled. She looked at her friend. Cindy’s expression was one of concern. ‘‘I know you worry about me, but you don’t have to. I’m fine.’’

      ‘‘You said you wanted to start dating.’’

      ‘‘I lied.’’

      ‘‘You can’t stay in mourning forever.’’

      ‘‘Yes, I can. I like it here. It’s safe. I have a very full life. My children, my work, the community, my friends.’’ Cindy tucked her short, light brown hair behind her ears. ‘‘You’re lonely.’’ She held up her hand. ‘‘Wait. Let me finish. I know how you feel because I remember what it was like after my divorce from Nelson. If you were a different person, I wouldn’t be pushing. But you’re the kind of woman who wants to be part of a couple. You need that.’’

      Beth pulled one knee up to her chest. ‘‘I don’t,’’ she said fiercely. ‘‘I don’t need any more than I have. I’m very content.’’ She paused, half expecting some of the lightning from outside to leap indoors and strike her for lying.

      Cindy didn’t say anything—she didn’t have to. The women had been friends long enough for each to be able to read the truth.

      ‘‘Not him,’’ Beth said quietly. ‘‘You’re right. It’s time for me to get out there and do whatever it is when people date these days.’’

      ‘‘I don’t think it’s changed all that much.’’

      Beth didn’t even want to think about that. ‘‘Not this way,’’ she continued. ‘‘Todd Graham is way out of my league. I would feel horrible the entire evening. He would be bored, I would probably forget where I was and start cutting his meat for him.’’

      Cindy grinned. ‘‘Nice try, but it’s not going to work. Both your kids are teenagers. They haven’t needed you to cut their meat for years.’’ Her smile faded. ‘‘I’ll admit that Todd Graham isn’t anyone’s idea of a simple first date, but that’s part of what’s so great about this.’’

      Beth blinked. ‘‘I’m sorry but you’re going to have to explain that to me a little more.’’

      ‘‘It’s practice,’’ Cindy told her. ‘‘He’s not your type and you’re not his. So nothing’s going to happen. You already know that. Think of it as a trial run for a real date—one that matters with someone you might like to be involved with. If you were to meet the perfect guy, you would want to have a little experience under your belt, right?’’

      Beth mulled the idea over in her mind. She didn’t think there was going to be a perfect guy for her. She’d already had a wonderful eighteen-year marriage. She’d done the ‘‘in love’’ thing. If she were to get involved with a man, it would just be for companionship.

      ‘‘I am out of practice,’’ she admitted. ‘‘I started dating Darren when I was in high school, and we got married just after I turned nineteen.’’

      ‘‘That’s my point. Todd will be your transition guy.’’

      Beth smiled. ‘‘One date does not a transition guy make.’’

      ‘‘Fine. He’ll be your first practice session. No expectations.’’

      ‘‘I’d like not to throw up during the meal.’’

      Cindy laughed. ‘‘Great goal. I’m sure Todd would appreciate it, as well. So there you are. You’re going to find out how much dating has changed by going out with a man you’ll never see again. Your assignment is to carry on normal conversation for the two or three hours you’re with him and to not throw up. You can do this.’’

      Beth wasn’t so sure. ‘‘If it was anyone else but him, I would agree. Todd Graham. What kind of name is that? It sounds like something made up by an escort service.’’

      ‘‘And you would know this how?’’

      For the first time since hearing the news about Mike’s little gift, Beth laughed. ‘‘I’m generalizing.’’

      ‘‘Say you’ll go,’’ Cindy urged. ‘‘If nothing else, next time a well-meaning friend bugs you, you can tell him or her that you’re dating.’’

      ‘‘That has appeal,’’ Beth admitted.

      What she wanted to do was run screaming from the room. Unfortunately that wasn’t an option. Cindy would hunt her down and talk and talk and talk until Beth acquiesced, just to be left in peace. She’d dealt with Cindy’s tenacity before. And if Cindy didn’t convince her, Mike would be back.

      She thought about Darren, her wonderful husband. Why’d you have to go and die? She’d asked the question dozens of times in the past eighteen months and not once had there been an answer.

      ‘‘I’ll go,’’ she said.

      ‘‘You won’t regret it,’’ Cindy promised.

      Beth nodded even though she had a bad feeling that her friend was very, very wrong.

      * * *

      ‘‘I’m a cow,’’ Beth said the following Saturday as she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror in her bathroom.

      Jodi, her beautiful sixteen-year-old daughter, met her gaze in