How to Find a Husband - by Deb Weir


 

Susan and I played tennis every evening after our commute to New Canaan, CT from New York City. We were poor players, but we loved the game. Life was good – until we became greedy for more time on the courts.

One evening, Susan said that she had found an indoor game on Saturday nights. We could increase our playing time by four hours a week at this party she saw advertised in the “General Interest” section of the local newspaper. We signed up for our first session.

It turned out to be Susan’s last time on a tennis court.   


As I drove us to the Shippan Tennis Club, she looked at the newspaper once more...and gasped. This event was also listed in the singles' section! We were on our way to a meat market in our short skirts! Neither of us had been to a singles’ party, bar or other excuse for a pick-up parlor, and we did not want to start now. After all, we were dignified women. Susan was a lawyer with a big New York law firm, and I was an institutional portfolio manager.

More importantly, we were old; we were past thirty.

Despite our advanced years, we had a wonderful time. My tennis game improved, and Susan met Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome who showed her his sailboat in the harbor of the Shippan Yacht Club. She sailed into the sunset with him, and the next time I saw her was at their wedding.

Good for Susan...bad for my daily tennis game.

I returned to the tennis party the following Saturday night in search of a Susan replacement. I was looking for a good woman with a bad tennis game.

As I was watching the players, a man sat down next to me. Puffy bags under his eyes made him look like a frog, but he had a great pickup line. After a little small talk, he hit me with the big one. "It is hard to raise children in Greenwich without spoiling them." Children? I had been single for three years, and this was the first man to mention his children during the first meeting. Could he help me spoil my child?

I knew that we would get married before our conversation was over. I gave him a six-month free pass on all behavior, including seeing other women, while he adjusted to the loss of his wife of 35 years. She had died of cancer just three weeks before this tennis game.

When we finished talking, Mike stood up, but not very far. We were the same height which was good enough for me. I knew he was serious about us when he put lifts on his shoes to make him half an inch taller. The bags under his eyes receded as our relationship grew.

Susan and Ray attended our wedding.


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