FIND MOM A HUSBAND

Chapter Three: The Children's Plan.

With hardly restrained delight, Sarah slammed the bedroom door shut and bounced on her balls of feet. Sprawled on his bed, Jack peered over confusedly from a comic book.

Sarah said, assuming a mock salute, "Mission briefing, soldier." "Find Mom a Husband is now formally underway!"

Jack put down his comic book, doubt printed on his little face. Go ahead. One spouse? What year did this start to exist?

Eyes rolling, Sarah said. "Have you not been paying attention? Jack, mom's alone! Someone who doesn't retreat screaming at the mention of children is someone she deserves to live life with."

A little comprehension flickered over Jack's face. He had noticed too how their mother occasionally looked longingly at couples walking hand in hand.

When they watched romantic movies together, he would often notice the silent need in her eyes that he so much wanted to satisfy.

"All right," he said, looking forward with a fresh interest. I'm in to find Mom a husband. What, though, is the strategy?"

With a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, Sarah grinds. "We first get rid of those dating apps. That is a dead end. Mom just swipes left on every profile.

Laughing, Jack said. True. Furthermore, some of those men seem more like they belong in their mothers' basements than they do dating a single mother of two wonderful children."

Just as it is!" Sarah said, moving around the space like a general planning a strike. We need something that's tailored to Mom's real interests.

Thought creased Jack's brow. She loves history, I presume, because of Mr. Davies in your class?

That's correct. With a hand clap, Sarah seemed to see a lightbulb over her head flicker. Perhaps we can locate a history enthusiast who enjoys fine coffee and isn't bothered by a blended family.

Holding up a hand, Jack said, "Whoa, whoa, whoa." We can't just put Mom in a cafe with any old guy.

"Of course not," assured Sarah. "But if she happened to run across a charming history geek at her favorite bakery, wouldn't that be ideal? Which she visits, nevertheless."

Jack grinned perceptively. "Mrs. Peterson!" he said. "She adores Mom and knows everyone in town. She might be able to arrange matches."

"Bingo!" Sarah snipped her fingers and yelled. "First Phase of Operation: Bakery Bump is completed. We'll gently point Mom toward Mrs. Peterson's house and pray for the best."

What would happen, though if there were no attractive single history buffs around? Jack said something of his worry.

Ever the strategist, Sarah would not be dissuaded. Then we go on to Phase Two, she said, a cheeky twinkle in her eyes. "Operation: Stumbled Jogging Encounter."

For the following hour, they described a variety of "accidental encounters" with a zeal that would match any seasoned military planner.

Operation: Accidental Jogging Encounter would entail planning their morning runs such that their mother and a "mystery man"—ideally dressed in running gear and exuding single-dad vibes—would collide (not too forcefully, of course) as they rounded a scenic corner.

They laughed at the ridiculousness of Operation: Misplaced Library Book, in which Sarah "accidentally" dropped a book on World War II—Mom's favorite historical era—in the non-fiction section and left a well-placed note asking that it be returned, hopefully by a sophisticated librarian beaming broadly.

Nothing too ridiculous, no plan too complex. Driven by their need to see their mother happy, Sarah and Jack painstakingly prepared every "accidental" meeting, including backup plans and damage control techniques in case their schemes went wrong.

They knew challenges were going to arise. Mom had keen intuition, and any misplanned scenario may go horribly wrong.

The next day, Operation: Bakery Bump got underway. Appearing to be hungry, Sarah jokingly recommended going to Mrs. Peterson's bakery after school.

As the encouraging son, Jack nodded easily. Sarah dropped the hints after a few rounds of quietly complimenting the bakery's coffee and environment.

She added, "You know, Mom," indifferently, "Mr. Davies mentioned a history talk at the library this weekend. You might like that."

Emily, the history buff she is, sprung to attention when the lecture was mentioned. "A history lecture? Regarding what exactly?

Intending to stimulate Mrs. Peterson's curiosity, Jack added, "Something about the Roman Empire." It seemed like Mrs. Peterson came out of the back, a kind smile on her face. Wonderful subject, the Roman Empire!

David, my nephew, is a history buff in his capacity. He helps plan a few of the library's programs and volunteers there on the weekends."

Jack and Sarah shot one other a victorious look. That was it. Operation: Bakery Bump had only recently launched its first delectable step.

Seriously? Interested, Emily asked. To herself more than to anyone else, she wondered, "Maybe he can answer some of my questions after the lecture."

Mrs. Peterson grinned increasingly broadly. Naturally, my dear. David is a good man who enjoys talking about history. I'll take down his phone number for you here in case you can't find him after the lecture."

Mrs. Peterson gave Emily a napkin on which she had written a name and number and winked at Sarah and Jack. Their mom, not seeing the deft planning, just thanked Mrs. Peterson and slipped the napkin into her pocketbook.

Although Operation: Bakery Bump had been successful, they were not through. There were tense expectations for the following few days. Emily might not even show up for the lecture. Should she do so, would she go up to David first?

Will something between the two finally catch fire? Or is it going to be simply another abortive effort? Inside them were all these and more unsolved questions.

Making sure their mother attends the lecture and, by chance, approaching David—or David approaching her—is the only way to gain an answer, though.

Every day, whether they go by Emily or she passes them by, both kids make sure to mention the lecture. Making sure it lingers in her mind and is logical.

Saturday came, a clear fall day with leaves whirling in the wind. As scheduled, Sarah and Jack "accidentally" ran upon their mother while heading to the park for their morning workout.

Is Mom going to the library today? Trying to come across as casual, Sarah asked.

Emily said, "Yes, dear," tying up her purse strap. You of all people should know that I won't miss the Roman Empire lesson for any reason.

Jack sprang to his feet. Very cool! He said, mainly to give them an excuse to be near the library later, "Maybe we can join you after if you're done early."

Grinning, Emily said. "That's nice, honey, but I think you two should have fun jogging. I sense the talk may go on for a while."

A last wave sent their mother into the library. Sarah looked determinedly at Jack. Phase 2 of Operation: Accidental Jogging Encounter was about to start.

They rounded the picturesque park on their jog, but this time they were alert for the library door.

A book tucked under his arm, a man was seen leaving the building after what seemed like a lifetime. Sarah tapped Jack, a sense of expectation building in her stomach, even though his face was hidden by a baseball cap. Pointing subtly, she said, "That's him, right?"

Jack c****d an eye. Sort of difficult to determine with the hat on. He does, nevertheless, appear to be clutching a history book."

Sarah stumbled, of course, "accidentally," just as the man turned to go in the other direction.

She yelled, "Oh no!" gripping her ankle firmly. Jack hurried over to show concern.

Hearing the noise, the man turned to face them. He had a pleasant smile that wrinkled the corners of his own eyes.

Concern tingling in his voice, he questioned, "Are you okay?"

Sarah sneered, "I think I twisted my ankle," and peered up at him through well-staged tears.

The man bent over her ankle. "Not overly enlarged," he added softly. David, by the way, is who I am. I may perhaps assist you in limping back to your car."

Excitement racing through her, Sarah glanced up at him. "That sounds fantastic, David. Sorted.

Their mother, meantime, had come out of the library and was standing back to watch the action.

She recognized the name on the napkin Mrs. Peterson had handed her as David's name on the library volunteer tag fastened to his shirt.

Emily was amused and something else, maybe hope, at the same time as David helped Sarah limp back to the park bench where Jack was waiting.

It was a little too well-planned and too flawless an "accidental" meeting to be credible. Still, she found David to be genuinely nice and sincere.

Though Emily was still a long way from finishing Operation: Find Mom a Husband, a little seed of hope had been sown in her heart.