Beth and the Bachelor

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‘‘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 the reflective glass. ‘‘You’re lovely, Mom. And you know you shouldn’t think like that. You’re always telling Matt and me to have positive thoughts.’’

‘‘Good point.’’ Beth tried to turn the litany of negative images around. ‘‘I’m not an ugly hag,’’ she said.

Jodi groaned. ‘‘No, that’s not good, either. How about—

I’m an attractive, vital woman and any man would be lucky to have me.’’

‘‘Easy for you to say,’’ Beth told her daughter as she kissed her cheek. ‘‘Because it’s completely true. Any man would be lucky to have you.’’

‘‘Mo-om.’’

‘‘Okay, okay.’’ She squared her shoulders and returned her attention to the mirror. ‘‘I’ll try to think more positively.’’

In honor of her first date in over twenty years, she’d had her short, red hair trimmed a whole week early. Despite the April humidity, it had fluffed nicely after her shower and her fringed, slightly spiky bangs were even. She’d used a tad more makeup than usual—a smoky shadow that accentuated her blue eyes—and she’de even dug out some old lip liner to help her lipstick last longer.

After eight changes of clothing, including trying on her red dress twice, she’d settled on an old favorite, a cream-and-navy dress with a matching cropped jacket. The round neck flattered her face, and it was cut high enough to not even hint at cleavage. Cindy had been after her all week, advising ‘‘if you’ve got it, flaunt it’’ but Beth had decided her nearly forty-year-old breasts would be more comfortable behind a couple of layers of clothing.

She’d vacillated between pearl earrings and gold hoops, finally settling on the pearls. A simple gold watch, sheer stockings and navy pumps completed her outfit. Cindy had loaned her a small navy clutch.

Her gaze turned critical. There were tiny lines around her eyes, but her skin was still pretty tight, and as clear and pale as it had been at twenty. She would never see a size eight again, but at five feet eight inches, the twenty pounds she’d gained since Darren’s death were fairly easy to hide. If she started her walking again and cut back on the choc olate, she could drop it in a couple of months…or six. Or she might just stay a size twelve.

‘‘You’re beautiful,’’ her daughter said, giving her a hug.

Beth took in Jodi’s copper hair and bright, young smile. ‘‘Thanks, kid. My entire goal is not to make a fool of myself, so I’ll think cool, elegant, sophisticated thoughts.’’

‘‘Hey, Mom, you clean up pretty good.’’

Beth turned and saw her youngest, fourteen-year-old Matt, lounging in the bathroom doorway. While Jodi had inherited her rich hair color and blue eyes from her mother’s side of the family, Matt was his father’s son. Medium brown hair, brown eyes and glasses made him look like a much younger Darren. Beth’s heart still ached when she looked at her son. At first, seeing him had made her miss her husband more, but now being able to see Darren’s reflection in his son’s expression gave her comfort.

‘‘Thank you,’’ she said, then grinned at Jodi. ‘‘That will be my affirmation for the evening. ‘I clean up good.’’’

‘‘I’m ignoring you,’’ Jodi said as she leaned toward the mirror and began experimenting with eye shadow.

‘‘So what time are you going to be home?’’ Matt asked. ‘‘Because we’re having this really big boy-girl party. I’ve ordered three kegs and Jodi promised one of her friends would be the stripper.’’

‘‘Ma-att.’’ Jodi spun toward her brother. ‘‘Don’t joke about that. Mom’s nervous enough.’’ She gave her mother a comforting smile. ‘‘There isn’t going to be a party. Sara is coming over and we’re going to study for our trigonometry test next week. I don’t know what Matt is going to do but he’ll be doing it alone.’’

Matt raised his eye brows. ‘‘I plan to annoy my sister and her friend because Sara always wears really tight clothes and I want to look at her body.’’

‘‘You’re disgusting,’’ Jodi announced, and turned her back on him.

‘‘I’m fourteen and I’m honest. According to my health teacher, boys my age are awash in hormones. I’m just being normal. You’re just jealous because you don’t get to your sexual peak until you’re almost forty.’’

Matt’s gaze turned speculative. Beth knew how his adolescent mind worked and she did not want to have a conversation with her children about the fact that she was just two years shy of forty and therefore close to her supposed sexual peak.

‘‘Did you write your paper for English?’’ Beth asked.

Matt groaned. ‘‘Yeah. I just finished it and left it on the kitchen table. You can look it over, then yell at me in the morning about all the grammar mistakes.’’

She smiled. Her kids were the best part of her life. ‘‘Sure thing.’’ She headed out of her bathroom and started for the kitchen. ‘‘The tuna casserole is going to be ready in about twenty minutes. There’s ice cream and some cake.’’

She paused by the counter. Matt and Jodi had trailed after her. ‘‘Jodi, I rented a couple of movies for Matt. He can use the television and VCR in my bedroom so you and Sara can study in the family room.’’

‘‘Great,’’ Jodi said. ‘‘We’ll be fine. I’m sixteen, and even though Matt’s still a baby, he’s sorta mature.’’

Matt assumed a boxing stance. ‘‘Say that again, sister, and I’ll show you mature.’’

Jodi dimpled. ‘‘You can’t hit me. I’m a girl.’’

Matt groaned. ‘‘Come on, Mom. Just once let me hit her. Just once. Please?’’

Beth ruffled his hair. ‘‘Sorry. No. You can’t hit women.’’

‘‘But she deserves it.’’

‘‘So do you sometimes, but I don’t hit you.’’

He straightened. ‘‘That’s because I’m the same height as you and I’m a tough guy.’’

Beth stared at her baby, who actually was almost her height. Jodi had reached five eight and stopped, but Matt was going to easily pass six feet.

Matt took a step back. ‘‘She’s got that look, Jo. The one where she starts talking about how cute we were when we were little. You’d better run for it.’’

The sound of a car engine distracted them all. Beth felt her stomach dive-bomb her toes. Dear Lord, she was going to throw up.

‘‘He’s here,’’ Matt called as he raced to the front of the house. ‘‘It’s a limo, Mom,’’ he yelled back. ‘‘Black and really cool looking. So how rich is this guy anyway? You think he wants to buy me a car?’’

Jodi touched her arm. ‘‘You’ll be fine. You look great. Just smile. If there’s a lull in conversation, ask about him. Guys love to talk about themselves.’’

‘‘How do you know all this?’’ Beth asked.

Jodi grinned. ‘‘I’m repeating the advice you always give me. It works.’’

Beth could feel her chest tightening. She was going to pass out or something equally embarrassing. ‘‘At least I raised my kids right,’’ she said as she kissed her daughter’s cheek.

She walked slowly toward the front door. Matt knelt on the sofa facing the window and motioned for her to come look out with him. ‘‘The driver is turning the car around at the end of the cul de sac. You can’t see in the windows or anything. This is so great. Maybe you could really date this guy, Mom. I’d pretend not to like him and he’d give me money to change my mind. What do you think?’’

She bent over and kissed the top of his head. ‘‘I think you have a great imagination, which is why I push you so hard when you write those English papers. I know what you’re capable of.’’

‘‘I wonder if the driver is in a uniform and everything,’’ Matt said, ignoring her comment. ‘‘How much do you think Mike paid for this date?’’

Beth didn’t want to wonder about that. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she wasn’t ready for this at all. She didn’t want to think about the fact that Todd Graham was going to take one look at her and run in the opposite direction, or at least wish that he could. He went through postadolescent models the way other people went through tissues, tossing them into the trash when they got a little used.

She reminded herself this was for charity. That if Todd hadn’t wanted to go on a date, he shouldn’t have been in the bachelor auction to begin with. Then she repeated Cindy’s words that this was just practice…nothing more. Better to get the first-night jitters over with someone who didn’t matter. And if it got really, really horrible, she would just walk out of the restaurant, get a cab and come home. She’d made sure she had enough cash in her purse.

She drew in one deep breath for courage, walked to the front door, flipped on the porch light…and waited.