Page 18 of The Matchmaker's Choice: A Lesbian Romance
most guys a while to mature. I’ve never dated anyone younger
than me. It wouldn’t work out.”
“Okay.”
I note that down on the paper, though I really don’t
have to. I have a good memory. Usually by now, I already
have a mental picture of prospective matches, but, stubbornly,
none are coming to mind. I just keep picturing Steph with
some guy. Any guy. It sucks. It feels a little bit like
indigestion. Like a lunch of raw cabbage and three-day-old
pizza with sardines would give you. Not that I’ve ever eaten
that. Or ever would. But I can imagine.
“How about physical characteristics?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Is there anything you don’t like?”
“No.”
I jot that down. “I guess I have to ask you the hard
stuff now. About you.”
“That’s fine. I’m ready.”
We both look up as Tildy runs for the solitary swing.
She lays flat on it with her belly and starts rocking, arms
outstretched, legs in the air, like a bird. I smile softly. Steph
does too. That makes my stomach do a flip flop that isn’t
indigestion related.
“Is it important to you to have children down the
road?”
Steph tenses. She grips the water bottle so tight I’m
afraid the lid is going to pop right off. “Yes, extremely, but I’d
be open to waiting a few more years, until it was right. I’m not
about rushing into anything, but I would never match with
someone who didn’t want kids. If he had kids already, I would
