Free Where Life Takes You by Claudia Burgoa Page A

bottle of crisp water, and blueberries to munch. I made a border with hearts and flowers. In the center I wrote the title: Dan’s wife.
    “First, you need to ask her where she went to school. If she answers private-catholic, then you ditch her. If she passes, then you want to know…. Hold on. Does it matter if she’s catholic?”
    “Are you having fun, princess?” My chart seemed to amuse him. “I’m not sure what to answer. For obvious reasons, I don’t have a religion, but believe there’s a God.”
    We shared the sentiment. Mom hadn’t continued my catholic upbringing after Grams died. I did my first communion a couple of months before her death, but that was all the religious education I had. I nodded, understanding his situation. People considered me catholic since my family was, but I wasn’t much of one.
    “I guess it doesn’t matter. What else you got?”
    “Summers in Europe…. Let’s get specific. Like, does it matter if her parents are filthy rich? Because she’ll be used to getting help for everything, including brushing her teeth and making decisions for her.”
     
    My comment was ridiculous, but it was fun to imagine a rich girl with her personal groomer. He went for no rich parents. After several questions, we found the perfect woman for him: a nice, smart, beautiful girl, who’d love and see Dan for who he was and not for his wealth. Other qualities included being a good cook, easy to talk to, understanding, trustworthy, and pleasant. She should love dogs—not cats.
    “Do we want to add children?”
    “You’re borderline insane. You want to make a chart for the children too?” His expression went from playful to appalled.
    “No, dummy, I meant if she wants children or not…. For most couples, it’s a deal breaker. What if you don’t want them and she does, or vice-versa?”
    “That question makes more sense.” His smile came back. “We’ll compromise. At least one—”
    I opened my mouth and slammed my hand in the table to object, but he didn’t let me.
    “Can I finish, princess?” He paused until I closed my mouth and nodded. “What I was saying, before I was about to be rudely interrupted, is that if I had to compromise, then we’ll have one. Ideally, I want three or four. More will be too much to handle with two dogs.”
    “Three or four? You’re going to hire a nanny, right?” I worried about the poor woman. “More than two sounds as complicated as one of Einstein’s theories, don’t you think? And you travel so much, which means she won’t get help from you.” This might not be my life, but the woman needed someone on her side before Dan ran her life. “No, you’ll need to start delegating and stop traveling. We’ll start when said wife gets picked. Let me write it at the bottom of the page, as a requisite for you.” I made a note. “Dan shall refrain from traveling so much when future wife appears. Train dogs before the children arrive. And don’t hire a slutty dog trainer. She’s not going to help, and will only lead you into trouble. You’ll accept her quirks, because your perfect woman will, of course, have cute defects. Okay, last requirement… a Becca requirement: the perfect woman will have to accept your best friend, be nice to her, and not mind her mooching from you during the holidays.” I folded the paper and handed it to him. “Here, keep it. When you’re ready to look for her, you can use this chart and find her faster.”
    Dan stood after grabbing the list from me, and slid it inside the back pocket of his jeans. I second guessed myself, because it occurred to me that we didn’t talk about physical attributes for the future Mrs. Brightmore. As far as I knew he didn’t have a type, he slept with anyone who threw herself at his feet. Would that be the case when he was ready to settle down?
    “Should I have Tyler prepare a press release based on your chart? We can add accepting applications, or better yet, coming soon.” He cleaned