Chapter Six #3
Michael stirred as she finished the call. He looked at her in confusion and sat up, reaching out to touch her tear-stained face which set off another round of crying. When he tried to hug her, she pulled back, standing up, trying to get out of his reach. She was not going to get sucked in anymore.
“I am sorry Michael,” she said shakily. “I cannot do this anymore.”
It was obvious that he didn’t understand. He put out his hands helplessly.
“I cannot be your caretaker, your assistant. Basically, I cannot be your mom anymore,” she hiccoughed. “I will send for my things tomorrow, but I am going home tonight.”
Michael stood and shook his head.
“I already called the cab. Please don’t make this harder than what it is.”
He motioned then grabbed those silly cards the hospital had given him. He held up the one with a question mark on it.
“Why?” Ann asked. “I am not happy here. Please just let me go.”
He looked so sad and disappointed. Uncertain and a little lost.
“I will call Elle in the morning. They will be able to sort out your appointments and such with the day planner,” even now she was trying to take care of him. She took a deep breath. “I am going to wait outside. Please don’t follow me.”
He watched her go to the door.
“Stay,” he croaked the word. “Puddle…puddle. Stay.”
She gave another sob and leaned her head on the door. It took a minute to compose herself enough to look at him through a sheen of tears.
“Goodbye Michael.”
And then she was gone.
He sat down slowly, bewildered and alone.
∞
Geanie had insisted that she go to the golf tournament. Ann supposed it was for the best. She needed to get thoughts of Michael out of her head and start searching for someone to be the father of her children, the husband of her life. It was time to move on and she was determined to do her best.
Geanie had managed to introduce Ann to Earle Milton before the tournament started.
He and Ann had chatted amicably for ten minutes then had to join their golfing partners for the tee off.
There were supposed to be cocktails afterward.
They would make the effort to meet as many eligible men afterward as possible.
Geanie was man hunting, a sport that she used to be very proficient at before she settled for Mr. Duvell.
“It is not like he is terrible or anything, he is just so…” Ann was having a hard time describing Earle.
“He is like a basset hound. Something you pet and then ignore,” Geanie grabbed her putter out of her bag.
“Geanie!”
“It is true,” she insisted. “He is not prince charming, but he is got good money and a sweet temperament.”
“He agreed with everything I said,” Ann shook her head and watched Geanie sink the ball. “I am not sure I could live with someone who is constantly trying to please me.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Geanie said with a mischievous grin. “Sometimes it is good to know that you will be the one in charge. His wife, whoever her patient soul may turn out to be, will manage his life quite nicely and Earle will be eternally grateful.”
“He is not the one for me,” Ann said firmly.
Geanie put her hands on her hips. “First rule, you need to have an open mind.
None of them are Michael. You have been dreaming of Michael as Mister Right for twenty years.
You are not going to be ecstatically, completely happy with anyone who takes that dream spot away from him.
You need to settle for ‘Mister Okay I will Have Babies with Him’.
“Second rule, not all the men we meet here are hanging out for a wife. You are forty. You don’t have time to convince a man you are his permanent honey.
You are going to have to choose from the very limited selection of those looking for a ‘Miss Right’ right now.
Don’t strike Earle off the list until you have viewed the set of candidates.
There are only three and I am not sure Trenton Bailey is actually seriously looking for a wife. ”
“Maybe I should try speed dating or an online site,” Ann offered weakly.
“Sure thing. ‘My name is Ann, I am forty. I am looking to get married and have babies’. I think that should scare them off,” Geanie rolled her eyes.
“Three respectable, independently wealthy men are here right now. You can be the stay-at-home mom you want to be. We just have to get one of those men interested in you.”
Ann nodded. She knew Geanie was right.
“You should flirt more. Stroke their egos,” Geanie lined up to take her shot on the next hole. She swung and the ball sailed away. “Men like that.”
“Is that rule three?” Ann asked dryly.
“Sure.”
They played on and at the hole nine rest area, Geanie introduced Ann to Trenton Bailey. Trenton was tall, blond, tan, muscular. His perfect white smile actually sparkled.
He had a weak handshake.
And bad breath.
He also talked exclusively about himself.
Since he did not have a job or do anything of value, Ann found him rather boring.
He said he was looking for Miss Right to become Mrs. Bailey but Ann thought he wanted someone who would make him look good and he was probably picky.
His shoes coordinated with his golf bag, something that he pointed out.
It was not going to happen. She could not see Trenton with children. Children were messy, demanded attention, generally disrupted a person’s social life. Trenton was not going to like that. He felt the entire universe revolved around him.
She regrouped with Geanie at the tenth hole. “Strike Trenton from the list. I am not getting sucked into the selfish void that is Mr. Bailey.”
“Don’t be so choosy,” Geanie admonished. “He is a hottie.”
“He might be, but he is not dad material,” Ann felt that was a valid excuse, even for Geanie.
“Well, there is still Earle. As long as you can convince his mother,” Geanie grinned.
Ann groaned. “Are you serious?”
“Hey, she has managed Earle for forty-three years. I think she just wants the perfect daughter in law.”
Ann rolled her eyes. She didn’t need a mother-in-law that wanted to share in the relationship. Earle was not worth that. Not that he was on her short list. She would have to be pretty desperate.
Ann tried to concentrate on her golf game.
She was an okay golfer. Geanie was spectacular.
By the time they finished the eighteenth hole, she was tired.
They headed to the clubhouse to see if they could snag a few moments with George Stapleton or see if anyone else might fit the bill for what Ann wanted.
A single man, ready to get married and have children.
Geanie left to mingle with a few people and stalk the prey. Ann went to the bar and ordered a drink. She was going to need all the alcohol she could get to cope.
“Now, I believe I know every member of the country club, yet I am certain I have not seen you before,” a man said as he sidled up to the bar beside Ann. He ordered a scotch.
Ann forced herself to smile and turned to see George Stapleton.
“You are George Stapleton,” she said a little stupidly. What were the chances?
George smiled his perfect smile. “You recognize me from the commercials. I am afraid I am at a bit of a disadvantage.”
“Ann Schaeffer. I partnered with Geanie Duvell today for the tournament,” she held out her hand and instead of shaking it, he gave it a kiss on the knuckles. Did people still do that?
“Charmed,” he released her hand. “Put Ms. Schaeffer’s drink on my tab, would you?”
“Oh, no. You don’t need to,” protested Ann.
“Please, allow me to,” he said, taking a sip of the scotch. “Do you enjoy golfing?”
“Yes. I am not as good at it as I used to be. I am out of practice,” she explained. Ann could see that Geanie had spotted her talking to George and had put up her hands, two thumbs up in the middle of an elite country club. Ann tore her gaze away from her silly friend and focused on George.
“Well then, we will have to rectify that and get you a membership here,” George smiled again.
He did have a nice smile. He was not as handsome as Michael, but he was not unpleasant to look at. He had minty breath. He had good financial prospects being the owner of a chain of dental offices. He was making an effort.
Ann supposed she could do worse. A half hour of pleasant chatter later, George had her number and a promise to go out next Friday night to a nice little art fundraiser for children with disabilities.
It made him dad material.
Ann swallowed hard and smiled. George Stapleton was on the list.