The Perfect Match. Debbie Macomber

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years!”

      “Look at the divorce rate. I read in the paper recently that almost fifty percent of all marriages in this country fail. In the old country, there was no divorce. Parents decided whom a son or daughter would marry, and their decision was accepted without question. First comes marriage, and then comes love.”

      “Gramps,” Janine said softly, wanting to reason this out with him. Her grandfather was a logical man; surely, if she explained it properly, he’d understand. “Things are done differently now. First comes love, then comes marriage.”

      “What do you young people know about love?”

      “A good deal, as it happens,” she returned, lying smoothly. Her first venture into love had ended with a broken heart and a shattered ego, but she’d told Gramps little if anything about Brian.

      “Pfft!” he spat. “What could you possibly know of love?”

      “I realize,” she said, thinking fast, “that your father arranged your marriage to Grandma, but that was years ago, and in America such customs don’t exist. You and I live here now, in the land of the free. The land of opportunity.”

      Gramps gazed down into his brandy for a long moment, lost in thought. Janine doubted he’d even heard her.

      “I’ll never forget the first time I saw my Anna,” he said in a faraway voice. “She was sixteen and her hair was long and blond and fell in braids to her waist. My father spoke to her father and while they were talking, Anna and I sat at opposite ends of the room, too shy to look at each other. I wondered if she thought I was handsome. To me, she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Even now, after all these years, I can remember how my heart beat with excitement when I saw her. I knew—”

      “But, Gramps, that was nearly sixty years ago! Marriages aren’t decided by families anymore. A man and a woman discover each other without a father introducing them. Maybe the old ways were better back then, but it’s simply not like that now.” Gramps continued to stare into his glass, lost in a world long since enveloped by the passage of time.

      “The next day, Anna’s parents visited our farm and again our two fathers spoke. I tried to pretend I wasn’t concerned, determined to accept whatever our families decided. But when I saw our fathers shake hands and slap each other on the back, I knew Anna would soon be mine.”

      “You loved her before you were married, didn’t you?” Janine asked softly, hoping to prove her point.

      “No,” he returned flatly, without hesitation. “How could I love her when I’d only seen her twice before the wedding? We hadn’t said more than a handful of words to each other. Love wasn’t necessary for us to find happiness. Love came later, after we arrived in America.”

      “Wasn’t it unusual for a marriage to be arranged even then? It wasn’t that long ago.” There had to be some point for her to contend, Janine mused.

      “Perhaps it was unusual in other parts of the world, but not in Vibiskgrad. We were a small farming community. Our world had been ravaged by war and hate. We clung to each other, holding on to our own traditions and rituals. Soon our lives became impossible and we were forced to flee our homes.”

      “As I said before, I can understand how an arranged marriage—back then—might be the best for everyone involved. But I can’t see it working in this day and age. I’m sorry to disappoint you, Gramps, but I’m not willing to accept Zachary Thomas as my husband, and I’m sure he’d be equally unwilling to marry me.”

      Briefly Gramps’s face tensed with a rare display of disappointment and indignation, then quickly relaxed. Janine had seldom questioned his authority and had never openly defied him.

      “I suppose this is a shock to you, isn’t it?” he said.

      If it astonished her, she couldn’t wait to hear what Zachary Thomas thought! They’d only met once, but he hadn’t disguised his opinion of her. He wouldn’t take kindly to Gramps’s plan of an arranged marriage—especially to a woman he viewed as spoiled and overindulged.

      “All I’m asking is that you consider this, Janine,” Gramps said. “Promise me you’ll at least do that. Don’t reject marriage to Zach simply because you think it’s old-fashioned.”

      “Oh, Gramps…” Janine hated to refuse him anything. “It isn’t just me. What about Zach? What about his plans? What if he—”

      Gramps dismissed her questions with an abrupt shrug. “How often do I ask something of you?” he persisted.

      Now he was going to use guilt. “Not often,” she agreed, frowning at him for using unfair tactics.

      “Then consider Zach for your husband!” His eyes brightened. “The two of you will have such beautiful children. A grandfather knows these things.”

      “I promise I’ll think about it.” But it wouldn’t do any good! However, discretion was a virtue Janine was nurturing, and there’d never been a better time to employ it than now.

      Gramps didn’t mention Zach Thomas or even hint at the subject of her marrying his business partner again until the following evening. They’d just sat down to dinner, prepared to sample Mrs. McCormick’s delicious fare, when Gramps looked anxiously at Janine. “So?” he asked breathlessly.

      From the moment he’d walked into the house that afternoon, Gramps’s mood had been light and humorous. Grinning, he handed her the platter of thinly sliced marinated and grilled flank steak. It happened to be one of Janine’s favorite meals. “So?” he repeated, smiling at her. “What did you decide?”

      Janine helped herself to a crisp dinner roll, buttering it slowly as her thoughts chased each other in frantic circles. “Nothing.”

      His smile collapsed into a frown. “You promised me you’d consider marrying Zach. I gave you more time than Anna’s father gave her.”

      “You have to know now?”

      “Now!”

      “But, Gramps, a simple yes or no isn’t an appropriate response to something as complex as this. You’re asking me to decide on a lifelong commitment in less than twenty-four hours.” She was stalling for time, and Gramps had probably guessed as much. Frankly, she didn’t know what to tell him. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, marry Zach—even if he was willing to marry her—but she hated disappointing her grandfather.

      “What’s so difficult? Either you marry him or not!”

      “I don’t understand why you’ve decided to match me up with Zach Thomas,” she cried. “What’s wrong with Peter?” She’d been dating the other man casually for the last few months. Her heart was too bruised after what had happened with Brian for her to date anyone seriously.

      “You’re in love with that whitewashed weakling?”

      Janine signed loudly, regretting the fact that she’d introduced Peter into their conversation. “He’s very nice.”

      “So is chocolate mousse!” Gramps muttered. “Peter Donahue would make you a terrible husband. I’m shocked you’d even think about marrying him.”

      “I hadn’t actually thought about him in

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