Promise Me (18 page)

“Oh.” I was impressed that he had thought of that and felt foolish that I hadn't. “Chinese sounds terrific. What do you need from me?”

“You're in charge of drinks.”

“It's a deal.”

He came around and opened my door, then walked me to the front porch. We stopped in front of the door. “Thank you for going out with me,” he said. “It was fun. You're a very interesting woman.”

“Interesting,” I said. “I like that. It was my pleasure.” I looked into his eyes. “May I tell you something personal?”

“Of course.”

“That was the best night I've had in the last two years.” His eyes shone when I said that and he looked even more attractive to me than when I first met him.

“I'm glad.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Good night, Beth.”

“Good night, Matthew.”

He walked back to his car. I leaned back against the door as he drove away. Then I went inside. Jan was at the kitchen table doing her homework.

“Hi, Mrs. C. How was your evening?”

“Perfect,” I said, a broad smile crossing my face. “Just perfect.”

Finding real love is like finding a hundred dollar bill in a Kmart parking lot—and about as likely.

Beth Cardall's Diary

The next morning at work Roxanne was as wired as a hummingbird on caffeine. “How was it? Jan said you said it was perfect. Tell me everything. Full report.”

A content smile crossed my face. “He was wonderful.”

“What did you do with Mr. Wonderful?”

“He took me to my favorite restaurant. We talked. We laughed a lot. He is very sweet and funny and very romantic.”

“Girl, I told you so, didn't I?”

“And he's Italian.”

“Grand slam.”

“There was only one thing I didn't like about the date.”

“He mentioned an old girlfriend,” Roxanne said. “He wore white socks.”

“What? White socks? No, the only thing I didn't like is that he didn't kiss me. Maybe he saw me up close and changed his mind about me.”

“Honey, stop that. You know you're gorgeous. And after how hard you tried to scare him off, he was probably just being careful. Or being a gentleman. And heaven knows we could use a few more of those.”

“Well, he's coming over Sunday night to make fried rice.”

Roxanne nodded contently. “And he cooks. You were right, it may be too good to be true. So let's get down to bare knuckles. How many times has he been married, and is he gainfully employed?”

“He
was
married, once, and he
was
employed. He's between jobs right now.”

Roxanne grimaced. “Oh, not good.”

“About which.”

“Divorced I can handle, but the ‘between jobs' thing sounds a little dodgy.”

“I think it's okay. He's financially stable, evident from the new BMW he was driving. He used to be a financial advisor, but he's looking for something more meaningful.”

“Money and conscience. So tell me this—he's Italian, gorgeous, nice, financially stable and can cook. What woman in her right mind would leave him?”

“His wife died of cancer.”

She looked strangely happy to hear this. “Oh.”

“I saw this very beautiful side of him. He was still mourning her.”

“Two broken hearts who still believe in the promise of love. Beth, this is a gift from heaven, he could be your soul mate.”

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but do you think it's too soon to be falling in love?”

“When did you know you wanted to marry Marc?”

“Second date.”

She nodded. “You know when you're out shopping and
you find that pair of red high heels that practically kicks you from the shelf?”

I laughed. “You're comparing guys with shoes?”

“Well, I know it's not fair to the shoes, but it's essentially the same thing. When you know, you know.”

“You're a nut.”

“That's why you love me. So he's coming over tomorrow night?”

I smiled at the thought of it. “Tomorrow night.”

“And you're not worried about Charlotte being there?”

“I should be, but I'm not. He's even cooking something that Charlotte can eat.”

“I am so pleased for you. You discovered what's wrong with Charlotte, you found a nice, financially secure guy you like being with—I'd say things are finally looking up.”

I nodded happily. “It feels like it. You think my luck has finally changed?”

“Yes. And it's about time, I say.”

“I hope,” I said. “I hope.”

Something you lost will soon turn up.

Fortune Cookie

Sunday evening Matthew rang the bell around five-thirty. I opened the door to find him holding three large paper sacks.

“How did you ring the bell?” I asked.

“With my elbow.”

“Come in,” I said. “I'll take one of those.”

“I wasn't sure what ingredients you had so I just bought everything.”

We carried the sacks into the kitchen. He took off his coat, then we began emptying the sacks onto the counter. There was rice, soy sauce, carrots, onions, eggs, chicken breasts, ham steak, garlic and scallions. In addition, there were fortune cookies, three pairs of chopsticks, three rice hats and a plastic baggie filled with grass.

“What's this?” I said holding up the baggie.

“Grass. I didn't know where to find hay.”

“You cook with hay?”

“No. The Chinese New Year is next Friday. And it is the year of the horse, hence the hay which, in our case, is grass.”

He walked over and set a rice hat on my head. “You have to wear this. Health department regulations.” He tied the ribbon beneath my chin. “Perfect.”

“Then you have to wear yours,” I said. I picked one up, put it on his head, and fastened the ribbon. “You still look Italian.”

“Thank you,” he said.

There was another hat about half the size of the ones we wore. “You even brought a little one for Charlotte.”

“We didn't want to leave her out of the fun. So where is Charlotte?”

“She's next door at her friend's house. But I called just before you came, so she'll be home in a few minutes.”

“Great. Let's get started.”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked, sure I looked stupid under the hat.

“You got the drinks?”

“It's not very Chinese, but I made lemonade. There's also beer and soda in the fridge. What else can I do to help?”

“Can you cook the rice?”

“I'm on it.”

“Where do you keep your knives?”

“Knives are in that drawer. The cutting board is below the sink.”

While I put the rice in the rice cooker, Matthew began dicing the carrots, garlic and onions. When he was done, he threw the vegetables into separate pans to sauté. Before long the kitchen smelled wonderful. Fumbling with chopsticks, I picked up one of his carrots from the pan, blew on it, then dropped it in my mouth. “Ooh, that's good,” I said.

“I sauté all the vegetables in garlic butter. The garlic is key.”

“I love garlic,” I said. “Though usually not in the early dating phase.”

“I disagree. Garlic is the great revealer. A relationship that can withstand garlic is worth pursuing.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

“My secret to a great fried rice is to make sure that each ingredient tastes delicious on its own and don't overdo it on the soy sauce. People always overdo it on the soy sauce.”

“I'll remember that.”

“You don't need to,” he said. “You can always just ask me to make it for you.”

“I like that,” I said.

He was cooking the chicken when Charlotte walked into the house. “Mom!”

“In here, sweetie.”

She walked into the kitchen, then stopped and stared at us. “Hi, Mom, where'd you get the hat?”

“Mr. Matthew brought them. He brought one for you too. Do you want to put it on?”

Her face lit with excitement. “Uh-huh.”

“Come here then.” She ran to me and I set it on and tied it around her chin. She looked adorable. “Tell Mr. Matthew thank you.”