“Wow. You’re like a shaman.” She sipped cautiously. “It’s even good.”
“I’ll send you home with a jar of it.” Then she glanced over her sister’s shoulder and her eyes widened in horror. “Where did you get that picture of me?”
“I knew you’d have a bunch of boring crap on your own computer so I pulled this off my phone. I love this picture of you. It was taken at Evan and Caitlin’s wedding, remember?”
“Of course I remember.” She smiled in reminiscence. “That was a great day.”
“It was. It seems kind of, I don’t know, like we’re putting the idea of marriage out there by showing you at a wedding on your profile. Not that you can tell it’s a wedding. It’s a very subliminal message. And you look gorgeous in that dress.”
The gown she’d worn for Evan and Caitlyn’s garden wedding was a simple blue dress that left her shoulders bare. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she wore more makeup than usual. “You don’t think it’s, I don’t know, showing me in a way I don’t normally look? Like false advertising?”
“No. I don’t. Most women would kill for your body. Between the yoga and all that gardening, you look amazing. This is about presenting your assets in the best light.”
“I think I prefer to leave my assets in the dark.”
They huddled together over the computer. Iris said, “I know this is hard. But it’s how everybody meets these days.”
Marguerite wasn’t so sure. “Lots of people don’t meet online, people who go to work and have normal jobs meet each other at work. That’s how Rose and Matt met. It’s how you and Geoff met.”
“Yeah. Or you could ride a big-ass motorcycle randomly down a country road and meet the love of your life like Evan did.”
“Okay, that was kind of random, but you see what I mean? People meet because they’re meant to.” She frowned. “People who live in big cities have social lives and play sports and things, they don’t need to go online to date.”
“Yes, yes. Even people who meet other people all the time still date online. It’s the way people connect. I mean, think about it. Everybody on here is looking for romance like you are.”
“Not everybody. I’ve heard about people who are just on there for hook-ups.”
“I think that with a little bit of common sense you’ll be able to figure out which ones are the good guys. Okay, here’s where you describe herself. Iris had control of the keyboard which made Marguerite slightly nervous, but she figured she could always change the description later. She said, “Okay, um, I like to garden. I think the world would be a better place if we all tried to get on. I believe in gun-control and—”
“No, no, no.” Iris cried. Her hands had yet to move on the keyboard. “If you say you like to garden it makes you sound like an old woman. And as for the rest, you’re not running for political office. The whole point of this is to sell yourself as a great potential mate. You have to think about what makes you attractive to a man.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course I am. This is a sales pitch, a marketing tool.”
“I want a date not to make employee of the month!”
“Trust me. I think we should write what we think sounds good. We can always run it by Geoff or Evan for a man’s opinion.”
She grabbed her sister’s arm. “No! You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone about this. I’d die of embarrassment if anyone knew what I was doing.”
Iris looked at her as though she were crazy. “All right. We’ll do the best we can.” Iris chewed her lower lip for a moment and then she began to type. While Marguerite watched, words formed. Words she would never have written about herself. In the headline box, Iris typed:
Love to See Things Grow
Marguerite stared at the line critically, then nodded. “I like that, it’s got two meanings.”
Iris grinned at her. “When I’m not baking muffins, I’m a creative writer.”
Marguerite hoped Iris didn’t have to get too creative to make her sound interesting and desirable.
I’ve travelled, but I’m more of a homebody. I run a thriving agricultural business which I’m very proud of. I am passionate about good food. I’m loyal, I practice yoga every day to stay in shape, I love being close to nature.
Iris turned to her. “What do you think so far?”
“I think it’s pretty good. When you say I’m passionate about good food, won’t people think I can cook?”
“You can cross that bridge when you come to it.” She typed, “I speak French. People tell me I’m relaxing to be around.” Iris glanced at her. “You are, you know? It’s a great quality.” She turned back to the keyboard. “Now, here’s the fun part. What are you looking for in a man?”
