Free Debbie Macomber by Where Angels Go

In her mother’s generation, the men always did the asking. She figured this was an excuse even her marriage-obsessed mother would accept.
    â€œThen you suggest it.”
    So much for that. “Mother!”
    â€œI’m serious,” Joyce said. “Why beat around the bush? You’re a woman who knows what she wants. Now go and get it.”
    Beth thought about asking Peter. Why not? One of them had to break the ice. “I’d like to meet him but I don’t want to appear forward.”
    â€œMarybeth, you don’t have much time. Maybe he’s shy. Maybe he’s waiting for you to bring it up. Show a bit of initiative, will you? It’s later than you think.”
    â€œTrust me, Mother, Peter isn’t shy.” She knew this from the way he attacked their enemies on WoW.
    â€œThen why wait?”
    Beth nibbled on her lower lip. “I don’t want to rush into anything.”
    â€œBut it’s already December twentieth. Christmas is right around the corner.”
    This wasn’t making sense. “Why is it so important that Peter join us for Christmas?” Beth asked, beginning to have some suspicions.
    â€œIt isn’t important…Well, in a manner of speaking it is. Your father and I have this wager.”
    â€œMother!” Her parents constantly made small bets with each other. Most of the time Beth found this habit of theirs amusing. Not now, though. Not when their wager was about her. “You’d better tell me everything.”
    â€œOkay…” Her mother inhaled deeply. “Last Christmas, your father said that at the rate you were going you’d never remarry.”
    â€œAnd you disagreed with him.”
    â€œOf course I did! Marybeth, you have no idea what an attractive young woman you are. You should be happy.”
    â€œI am happy,” she insisted.
    â€œI disagree. You just think you are.”
    Beth rolled her eyes, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to argue.
    â€œYou should be dating,” her mother continued.
    â€œAnd getting married and becoming a mother.” The litany was a familiar one.
    â€œYes,” Joyce Fischer said. “I hate the idea that you’ve got nothing more pressing to go home to than that darned computer game.”
    â€œYou don’t understand, Mom. Peter and I are at level forty and—” She stopped. There was no point in explaining further.
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œNever mind.”
    â€œDoes this have anything to do with bringing Peter to dinner on Christmas Day?” her mother wanted to know.
    â€œNothing whatsoever.”
    â€œBut that’s the important thing here. Otherwise your father…”
    â€œYes?” Beth murmured.
    â€œOtherwise I’ll be hauling the garbage out to the curb every Wednesday for the next six months.”
    â€œA fate worse than death,” Beth muttered sarcastically.
    â€œIt isn’t that I mind dealing with the garbage,” her mother went on, “but I do mind losing another bet to your father, especially when you’re so close to actually having a date for Christmas.”
    Beth didn’t consider herself close at all. In her desperation to win this bet, Joyce was being completely unreasonable.
    â€œPromise me you’ll ask Peter,” her mother pleaded.
    This had gone on long enough. “I’ll do no such thing.”
    â€œIf not for my sake, then your own, Marybeth.”
    â€œNo!” That was final, too.
    The silence that followed weakened her resolve. “Don’t you realize how ridiculous you’re being?” Beth said. “Peter’s practically a stranger.”
    â€œJust meet him,” Joyce wheedled. “That’s all I ask. Whether he comes to Christmas dinner or not is entirely up to you. All I ask is that the two of you connect. Promise me that much.”
    While she’d never openly admit it, Beth was curious about her online partner.