Page 33 of The Merry Matchmaker

“Hey, you’re beautiful. And you’ll always be beautiful, no matter what your age.”

Okay, that was better.

“All I was saying was that he’d be a better fit with Stef. Isn’t that who you had in mind for him?”

“I did. He’s not into her,” Frankie said. “But he is into me.”So there.She agreed with Mitch, so why was she being so perverse? Because he had just double-dog dared her to prove that she wasn’t over the hill, that was why. She’d show him.

What she’d show him she wasn’t sure.

He frowned. “I don’t want to see you hurt. Brock’s a nice guy, but he’s just a big kid. He won’t stick.”

Now he was insinuating she couldn’t hold a younger man’s attention. “Thank you for your advice, oh wise one.” She pointed to his mug. “Are you done with that?”

He frowned at its contents. It was still half full. “I guess I am?”

“I guess you are.”

He heaved a sigh, got up and trudged to the front door. She followed him and handed him his coat.

“Well, good night,” he said.

“Good night,” she said, and opened the door.

He walked out, frowning, and she shut it after him. Firmly.

6

Stef refused to sit home on a Saturday night. She’d rounded up a couple of friends and gone to Carol’s Place for those sliders and peppermint martinis. They’d stuck around for part of Christmas karaoke and made fools of themselves, singing Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” Two tipsy men took the song to heart and offered to buy the women drinks, then wound up at their table. They were loud and obnoxious boors. In fact, one of the boors Stef knew on sight. He worked in the frozen food department at the grocery store.

“You’re the hottie from the store,” he’d declared. “You can melt my frozen corn dogs anytime.”

This was what came of putting yourself out there on a karaoke stage. The jests had gotten stupider and cruder, and she’d remembered she had work to do at home. Those bozos confirmed it; every man in Carol was a loser.

So, now here she was, parked on her couch with a latte, a pile of handwritten letters and her laptop, pulling together the next edition of theCarol Clarion’s Letters to Santa page.

She loved doing this page, although it did make her a little wistful. She’d envisioned herself helping a child or two of her own write a letter to Santa by this point in her life.

Richard had stalled and stalled. She’d finally convinced him they needed to get moving. They didn’t move far. She’d miscarried. Sometimes she told herself it was for the best. With her twenty-twenty hindsight, she could see Richard would have made an awful father.

But she would have made a good mother, she was sure of it. She was a good aunt, after all. A great aunt, no pun intended. Natalie’s son, Warner, adored her. Or course, Warner adored anyone who would build LEGO creations with him.

She had a job she loved and a great family. Maybe it was time to forget the man quotient and start her family by adopting. There were plenty of kids in the world who needed a good parent.

Meanwhile, back to work.

She giggled as she went through the latest batch of letters. A couple of them were silly and obviously sent in by children who had passed the age of believing but weren’t too old to enjoy a prank.Yo, man, I want my two front teeth, wrote one.I been waiting for years. When are they coming?

Snort. Some smart-ass’s grandparent had inspired this letter with that old song. Front-tooth dude’s letter probably wouldn’t make the cut. For sure the letter that begged Santa to run over Grandma wouldn’t. Tacky. Besides, there were too many earnest little kids out there, hoping to see their letter on the Santa page.

Pleez bring me a pink instant camera so I can take pictures on Christmas Day, wrote a little girl named Claire.

I want a Legos Avenger Tower!!!!!wrote another child. With all those exclamation points, Stef hoped little Tommy got it.

I want a bow and arrow, wrote another little boy.I promise not to shoot my sister with it.

Please bring me drums, begged ten-year-old Jordy.I asked for my birthday, and Mom and Dad said no.Poor Jordy. Stef suspected Santa wouldn’t be able to come through on this request, either.

Dear Jordy,she typed,Santa loves to bring presents to children, but I will have to check with your mom and dad before bringing you drums. They know best.There. Put it right back on Mom and Dad so Santa didn’t take the heat.

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