“Not if I’m aiming to grab two.” Christina glanced at Julia. “Tell me you’re a whiz at English.”
“Two?” Susan asked in a faint voice.
“I’m a whiz at English,” Julia said.
Christina brightened. “Really?”
“No. I barely passed, but I have a wager on the line. I respond well to a challenge.”
“We’re doomed,” Christina muttered. “Doomed. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been greedy and asked for two men in my Christmas stocking. I knew I was pushing it. I knew it. This is fate screwing with me.”
Maggie glanced at Julia. Julia made a hiccupping sound and they were off again, laughing so hard they ended up on the floor.
“I need food,” Susan said. “I have lasagna in the freezer.” She stood and strode to the upright freezer. A blast of cold air hit Maggie when Susan opened her freezer.
She grabbed two containers and turned on the oven. The fan whirred as it dispersed heat. Fifteen minutes later, the rich scent of herbs and meat wafted through the kitchen.
“What we need to do is use honesty,” Maggie said to Susan.
“Right,” Julia said. “We’ll use honesty. That’s the way to go. Can’t go wrong if you come across as sincere and authentic. Farmers like those qualities.”
“You know this from experience?” Maggie asked. “How many farmers do you know?”
“I know men,” Julia said in a lofty tone, waving her right hand in a dismissive flap. “All men are putty if you tell them what they want to hear. If you can make that truthful all the better.”
Maggie’s smile died. She knew that from experience with Connor. Even though she’d had feelings for him, sentiments that had grown stronger, she’d pretended differently, telling him what he’d wanted to hear. She glanced at her watch. Almost time to go. Maybe she should call and tell Connor she couldn’t meet with him tonight. Maybe she should stay with her friends and return to the way things used to be.
“Maggie, stop looking at your watch. You’re not going anywhere until my essay is done and you’ve eaten,” Susan said.
Maggie pushed aside her qualms to concentrate on Susan. “You know what you need to do with your essay. Write down what you want in a man and why you’re entering this contest. Go for truth. Tell them you’re grumpy in the mornings until you get a cup of coffee, tell them you’re snappy if you get overtired. Tell them you’re a loyal friend, you’re not frightened of trying new things and open to new experiences. And tell them you’re an awesome cook and love children.”
“Christina, what Maggie said,” Julia said with a nod. She picked up a pen and jotted notes. “Don’t tell them you dream about two men because it sounds plain greedy. Most of us have trouble finding one.”
“All of us have trouble finding one man,” Maggie said with a heartfelt sigh.
Christina’s bracelets jingled as she tapped her pen on the tabletop. “Yeah, you’d think with our mod-cons finding a mate would be easy. If anything it seems harder for modern women.”
Susan nodded. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I think it’s because women are conditioned to want a mate, to have children. That part of us hasn’t changed. We’re also programmed with ambition, told we can be anything, anyone. The Prime Minister, a lawyer, an astronaut or scientist. These things take time and it saps our femininity in the eyes of some men. At heart, they want to protect and provide. They don’t want to stay home and look after kids, so in defense, they play the field. They sow their wild oats.”
“Don’t you think that’s cynical? Not all men are like that,” Maggie said, not liking the pessimistic picture Susan painted.
“Oh, yeah? Then why did you break up with Greg? He wanted you to stay home and play the little wife. Right?” Susan scanned their expressions before turning her attention back to Maggie. “That’s why we’re all in our late twenties with not a husband in sight. There’s nothing wrong with us. There are no eligible men available.”
Julia shook her head, setting her blonde locks in motion with the vigorous movement. “Wow, you have thought about this.”
“Sorry,” Susan said. “I didn’t mean to preach, but I’m pissed because society paints us as loose women and says no wonder we can’t catch husbands. I’m saying I want a husband, but the right men aren’t out there. Either they’re playing the field or they’ve married their childhood sweetheart right out of school.”
“Or they’re gay,” Christina said. “Twenty years ago a gay man married and lived in the closet. These days they live together openly and marry in civil unions.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being gay,” Julia said.
“I’m not saying that.” Christina sighed. “All I’m doing is agreeing with Susan and saying the men aren’t available in the dating pool.”
Julia flicked a lock of hair over her shoulder and shot Maggie a challenging look. “Don’t worry. Maggie and I will help you bag a farmer. They have a shortage in the country and we have two beautiful women in the city. Easy.”
Maggie grinned. “A match made in heaven.”
The oven timer dinged and Susan rose to attend to the lasagna. She sliced a loaf of bread into chunky bits and pulled a salad out of the fridge.
