The Invitation by Jude Deveraux

eldest,” Terri said.
    â€œYou must invite him in for milk and cookies,” Jackie said, but she hoped she wouldn’t have to endure the smutty leers of the “boy.”
    â€œNo, I must return,” Terri said, bravely trying to keep the misery out of her voice. Her three sons and husband always felt betrayed when she dared take an afternoon off and not stay in the house at their beck and call, so they punished her by doing what they could to destroy the house while she was away. She knew that now she would return to food spilled on the floor, screen doors left open to admit thousands of flies, and angry men complaining that they hadn’t been fed in hours. “I’ll call you on Sunday, and I want to hear everything,” Terri said as she left Jackie’s house, running because her son was lying on the horn so it made a constant stream of deafening noise.

Chapter Three
    J ackie tried to be sensible during the following days, but it wasn’t any use. She tried to talk to herself, telling herself that she was an adult woman, not a frivolous, starry-eyed girl, but she didn’t listen to her own advice. She cursed herself for having been born a woman. What in the world was wrong with women anyway? They met a man who was nice to them, and within minutes they began planning the wedding. She told herself that it had been an ordinary encounter, that what had made it seem extraordinary was that she had just been hit hard on the head. Otherwise she would have had her wits about her and she wouldn’t have given another thought to the incident.
    She made herself remember all the many men she’d met over the years. There was the time she’d been on a boat with Charley and a very nice man who…well, the truth was, he was more than nice. He was absolutely gorgeous, tall, with dark blond hair, crystal-clear blue eyes, and he had spent eighteen years or so in various universities studying a number of subjects, so he’d been fascinating to talk to. He was brilliant, educated, terribly handsome, everything a woman could want, but although they had spent the whole four days of the trip together while Charley was prostrate with seasickness, Jackie had not fallen in love with the man. Of course, she argued with herself, she had been married, and maybe that had something to do with it. Maybe William was the first interesting, handsome man she’d had any contact with since she’d become a single woman.
    She had to smile when she thought that. After Charley’s death she had been amazed at the number of men who came to “pay their respects.” At the time she had been grieving, wondering what she was going to do with herself without Charley to take care of, and suddenly there were many men offering her anything she wanted. It was flattering and annoying at the same time.
    She didn’t so much as go out with a man for six months after Charley died, but the combination of loneliness and the constant invitations she received broke her. After months, she began to go out to dinner and movies, to auto races, to picnics. You name it and she went to it. And at each one it was the same thing: “How many brothers and sisters do you have?” “Where did you grow up?” “Where did you go to school?” “How many races have you won?” “Who are the celebrities you’ve met?” “What was it like having dinner at the White House?”
    After six months of these dates, she began to consider having cards printed with vital information on them, so she could avoid having the same boring conversation over and over. Didn’t anyone ever have anything interesting to say? Like “What’s the biggest lie you ever told?” she couldn’t help thinking. That was what William had asked her. And he had made her a sandwich she liked, not a conventional sandwich of grilled cheese or beef with mustard, but a real sandwich.
    A year after