Page 82 of The Merry Matchmaker

“You bunco babes are total party animals,” Frankie teased.

“’Tis the season,” said Adele, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Is it my imagination, or is she getting too busy for us?” said Stef as they watched Adele move toward the door.

“Starting that bunco group certainly has taken up more of her time. But I don’t begrudge her a social life. She’s earned it,” Frankie said.

She could still remember how hard her mother had struggled to come to terms with her widowhood. Unlike Frankie, she hadn’t had a business to consume her. Instead, all she’d had was grief. And that had almost succeeded in eating her alive. It had been a slow crawl out of that dark hole, but Adele had managed.

And when Frankie had fallen in the same dark hole, she’d had her mother to help her out. They’d had many conversations about life and death and life after death.

“I know I’ll see your father in heaven someday,” Adele had said, “and I know you’ll see Ike, too. Meanwhile, you have a family that needs you and a business to run. You still have purpose, and you’re still here. I hope it won’t take as long for that to sink in for you as it did me. There is always something good in life. Find that and focus on it. There are always good people in life, too. Find them and enjoy them.”

Frankie felt she’d done a pretty good job of following her mother’s advice. For the most part. The holidays were still the hardest, and she was glad she didn’t have to leave her loved ones and return to her house alone.

Back at the house, the sisters settled in with their eggnog for an assessment of Stef’s non-love life as Christmas music streamed in the background.

“It stinks that you and your mystery man keep missing each other,” Frankie said. “I wonder why he vanished so quickly after the concert. Usually parents hang around for a while.”

“Kidnapped by the Grinch?”

“That must be it.”

“Between that and my stupid migraine it looks like he goes in the not-meant-to-be column. I guess I made more of it than it was. I’m sure glad I didn’t ask Santa for a man this year, ’cause he’s not coming through.”

With the Santa Walk right around the corner, Frankie couldn’t help remembering her conversation with the woman in her shop. A certain lonely man could show up, bringing his son to see Santa.

“Santa hasn’t come yet,” she said.

Stef studied her eggnog. “You know, it’s weird. After I split with Richard, I vowed I would never be with another man again. But here I am, looking.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Who wants to be alone?”

“You’re managing.”

“I am.” Although sometimes managing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“What if I blow it again?” Stef said in a small voice.

“You’re too smart for that,” Frankie assured her. “And you’re wiser now. You won’t blow it.”

Stef smiled at her. “You really are my hero, you know.”

Embarrassed, Frankie waved away the comment.

“No, I mean it,” Stef insisted. “You look out for everyone. But who looks out for you?”

“Oh, I think I’ve got a guardian angel or two on duty,” Frankie said lightly. “I’m doing okay.”

“Are you? Really?” Stef asked earnestly.

“Of course I am. Don’t worry about me,” Frankie said. “My life is good.”

Stef gnawed her lip. “Are you sorry you broke it off with Brock?”

“No. It wouldn’t have worked. And really, I don’t think it would have worked for you, either. He didn’t want to have kids. You might want to try again.”

“I’d like to, but who knows?” said Stef.

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