"Are the kids tucked in, Charlie? I thought maybe we could talk."

Intriguing. From my mother-in-law's antsy, smiling demeanor, she seemed like someone with a happy secret to share. It crossed my mind that we'd recently talked about her dating again, but surely not even Rose with all her stubborn determination could have accomplished that so soon? A boyfriend wasn't like a carton of milk--you didn't just make the decision you needed one and run out to the nearest corner market.

Of course, you probably also didn't call them boyfriends past sixty. A beau, maybe? Gentleman callers? This is Rose, not Scarlett O'Hara. I followed her into the kitchen, where we sat at the table.

"Charlotte, dear, I know we haven't always been the picture of harmony, but I never had a daughter. And you were born without knowing your mother." This is where anyone else might have said she loved me like a daughter. Rose did not. But I was touched by the implication all the same. "I want you to know that I heard what you said the other night. Loud and clear. And I've been thinking about it."

I grinned. "So, this is about dating?

"Yes, and I'm touched you wanted my blessing."

"Bl-blessing?"

"To date. All of those things you said, about how our husbands would want us to be happy... You were absolutely right. Tom always took care of you and the kids, he wouldn't want you to be alone. So how better for me, his mother, to honor his family than to help you?"

Oh, this conversation had so taken a wrong turn! "Help me?" I'd come into the kitchen expecting her to tell me she'd decided to take ballroom dance or play bingo at the senior center, and meet people her own age. Instead--and my spinning brain couldn't quite process this--my late husband's mother wanted to help me land a man? "That's really..." Bizarre? "Kind of you, Rose, but there have been so many recent changes in my life, in the kids' lives. I don't think they're ready for the shock of Mommy dating on top of everything else."

"But it's for the kids that this is such a good idea, dear. Tom wouldn't have wanted them to be fatherless."

Egad, she'd zoomed past dating right on to marriage! "Rose, when I broached the subject of getting out more, maybe dating, I meant you."

She blinked. "I couldn't possibly. I'm much too used to being on my own after all these years. But you're still young. And you have me to help."

So she'd said. "Help how?" I had horrific visions of a personals ad going out to major Boston newspapers without my knowledge.

"Glad you asked." She reached for the spiral notebook that sat at the center of the table, near the flowered napkin holder. When she flipped the book open, I saw a page filled with names, phone numbers and other information. "I spent today collecting and organizing details about potentially suitable young men."

"You made a list of men?" I kept my voice low, so as not to wake the kids, but even I heard the rising hysteria in my tone.

"Well, not by myself. I called all my friends."

"Right. Even better."

My lack of rampant enthusiasm seemed to be getting through to her. "Charlie, on Halloween, you seemed in favor of this."

"For you," I reiterated. "Finding some for you."

"Well, if I had been interested, what was the plan? To troll bars and ask men their astrological signs?"

"Of course not. I just thought you could..." I stopped, utterly clueless. I'd met Tom when I was a college freshman and we'd been together until just over a year ago. More than two decades. What did I know about dating?

"My method is thorough and logical," Rose pressed on. "I've even put asterisks by the men who would be my first choices."

Apparently, I'd been wrong. Men were like cartons of milk. You just let Rose know whether you wanted skim, soy, or chocolate, and she diligently set about getting you one