Miss Match (5 page)

"Peachy." Brandon winks at me and continues the saunter to
his office.

It was a stroke of luck I left a Milky Way in my car last night. I am
going to need it today.

"Want to cat lunch with me, Brandon?" Hannah asks this as Brandon
walks by about eleven forty-five.

"Uh, sure." He turns to me. I am digging out a peanut butter sandwich with a side of Krispy Kreme from the mini refrigerator under the
desk. "Want to eat with us?"

It doesn't take a subsonic missile inspector to note the look of ugh
written on Bridesmaid Barbie's pretty face.

"I'd love to." Not because I want to but because I feel I should.

Brandon and I sit in the chairs in front of Hannah's desk, and she sits
behind it. Not even ten seconds go by before Brandon invites her to our
Wednesday night singles' class.

Oh brother.

I have no doubt where Hannah will fit in our singles' class.

There are three groups of singles: Those who will marry soon, those
who will marry eventually, and those, like me, who will never marry.

Blonde, beautiful, blue-eyed, high-heeled. Hannah will have a diamond ring and a date in June in six months, no less. First group, all
the way.

Her blue eyes alight with joy at the prospect of two dozen goodlooking, available guys.

Then again, the fact they're Christians could be a problem.

"Are you a Christian, Hannah?" I ask.

"Well," she giggles, "I'm not a heathen."

Brandon and I don't laugh. "Have you ever invited Jesus into your
life?" Brandon asks.

Hannah tries the shrug route. "Not really."

"Then please come Wednesday night." Brandon surprises me. "The
teaching is awesome."

"I'll try to be there."

My shock is apparent on my face, I guess, because Brandon levels a
swift kick to my shin bone.

"Ah!" I yell.

"Bless you." Hannah hands me a Kleenex.

I get home feeling mentally exhausted. My only consolation is I have the
day off tomorrow. I walk into the living room.

"Hey, Sweetie." Dad is sitting in his chair, reading an investment
magazine. There's a low fire in the fireplace and it smells woodsy, a combination of the fire and Dad's aftershave. A heavenly combo after today's
Flower Overpower.

"Hi, Dad. What did you do today?"

He smiles whimsically. "I went to see Laney."

Uh-oh. Laney is going to have my head.

"Uh, how's she doing?" I cover my mouth in a fake yawn. Think,
Laurie, think!

"Good." His face creases in a frown. "I think she was tired, though.
She didn't move from the couch."

"Oh."

This can be good news or bad.

"But the kids are doing well. Lively as ever." Dad lifts his mug of
lemongrass tea. "You know how children are carriers of every type of
influenza in the books."

"Uh-huh."

I need to call Laney.

"I'm going to go change into my workout clothes, Dad." Not like I
work out, but "workout clothes" sounds so much better than "sweats."

"Okay, Honey."

I race up the stairs, shut my bedroom door, grab the cordless phone,
and walk into the adjoining bath. Dad has been known to listen at
doors.

"Laney?"

She laughs. "You are predictable, Lauren. I told Adam you were
going to call between 6:10 and 6:20. It is 6:13." She gets serious. "Did
Dad notice anything weird?"

"He said you sat a lot." I sit on the edge of the tub.

"I told him I was tired."

I nod, then remember I'm on the phone. "Yeah, he told me."

"So he doesn't know." Her voice fills with relief.

"Not yet anyway. How long are you going to not tell him?"

She lets her breath out. "A couple more weeks."

This is what my sisters do: Dump their problems on me and then tell
me not to let Dad know anything.

I hate being the youngest.

And I love being the youngest. I get away with more.

"I got to go, Laney."

"Love ya, Lauren."

I hang up and throw on my change of clothes.

My head is halfway in the sweatshirt and halfway out when I have
a vision.

Ruby arrayed in white, her hands filled with flowers, her usually solemn
brown eyes bright with joy. Walking down an aisle to ... Nick?

Ruby Palmer marry Nick Amery? Nick's my oh-so-single singles'
pastor in charge of our Wednesday night class. Ruby is in the second
group of singles. She is a waiter.

It will work out perfectly. Ruby, thirty-three, without a discernable
smidgen of humor. Nick, thirty-four, more fun than a kid at Christmas.

A match made in heaven.

I told Brandon I wanted something more in my life. Matchmaking
is as good a sport as any, I suppose.

I finish pulling on the shirt and hop down the stairs two at a time.

"Don't do that, Laurie. I don't want you to slip and fall. Hospital
stays these days will kill you."

I skip over to Dad's chair and kiss the top of his head. "Fear not,
Father," I say dramatically. "I have reason to live."

Ruby Palmer will become Ruby Amery in seven months or less. I
give you my word.

Our Wednesday night class takes place in Nick Amery's home. He
bought the house three years ago, mostly because the group grew too big
to use his apartment and he felt the call to settle.

I make sure I am there early. I bring a big pan of my homemade box
brownies for dessert afterward. There is little in life that bonds two hearts
together faster than homemade brownies.

"Wow, Laurie, you're the best," Nick exclaims when I set the pan on
his kitchen counter.

"No, I'm not. These are box brownies, but don't tell anyone else. A
snap to make. You should see Ruby's chocolate lava cake. No box, no
mix, just a recipe card. Now, that's talent." I am casual.

"Mmm." Nick opens the lid.

I slap his hand. "Why don't we ask Ruby to bring the lava cake
next week?"

He blinks and looks up. "Wait a second, who?"

"Ruby," I annunciate. "My coworker? Chef extraordinaire?"

"Oh, got it. I think I met her at church once." Nick frowns thoughtfully. "She hasn't been coming to this study long, has she? Medium
height, brown hair?"

"That's her." And about fifteen other girls in the study.

His frown deepens. "She's not. . ." His voice drops a little lower.
"She's not the most friendly, Laurie."

"She's just not very good around crowds," I say. "One on one is much
more her speed." I smile brightly as I see the lady of the conversation
come in. "That's her." I point toward Ruby.

Nick is looking at her, head tipped slightly to the right. "You know,
she looks kind of like . . ." he pauses, voice quiet.

"Kind of like ..." I parrot.

"Hmm? Oh, no one. A girl I knew in middle school."

"Oh." I say this very casually, but my brain is a mass of happy jumping beans. They knew each other! This is all happening so perfectly I
immediately look around to make sure I wasn't transported to an animated Disney movie. "So should we ask her to bring the lava cake?" I ask,
once I'm reassured I'm still in real life.

"Sounds good to me. Chocolate and Bible study make a winning
combination."

So do you and Ruby. I smile wide.

He gives me a strange look and then says, "Laurie, I've been thinking. You need to lead the junior high girls' group at church."

"Junior high? Girls?"

"Yeah. Pastor Ed asked me to come up with some suggestions for
leaders and I thought of you. Linda Myers is leading it now, but she's getting married and doesn't think she can still swing it."

"Hormones?" I'm aghast.

Nick grins. "You'll love it and you know it. I'm going to tell Pastor
Ed you said yes, okay?"

"You would be lying. I haven't said that word yet tonight." A thought
pops in my head. "You know who would be great? Ruby. I work with
her, you know. She's great with the teens who come in for pictures." I lie not. She is.

"Ruby, huh? You two could do it together."

I shake my head. "I still haven't said the word, Nick."

"You will. And I'll be there when you do. Ruby, huh?" he says again,
a thoughtful look in his eyes.

Ping! Score for Cupid!

"Yeah, Ruby."

"Huh. Well, I guess I'll ask her."

During this conversation, singles of all ages and sizes are piling
into Nick's living room, dumping books, Bibles, coats, and gloves on
the floor.

Nick looks longingly at the brownies. "Guess we'd better corral in
the forces." He drags his eyes off the pan and surveys the room.

We have a very unpredictable attendance-about two dozen regulars, and the other dozen are sporadic. I look around and count three
married couples, three engaged couples, several seriously dating, Nick
and Ruby, and about five singles.

Our singles' class is not truly a singles' class.

Nick leaves to mingle.

"Hey." Brandon comes over and gives me a hug.

"Hey."

He watches me cut the brownies. "Did you have a good day?"

"Fabulous."

Yet another odd look comes my way. "Your day was fabulous?"

I nod. "Yes." I say this right at the unfortunate moment that Nick is
passing by again.

"Aha!" Nick yells, sticking his finger in my face. "You said yes!"

I close my eyes and fight nausea. I have been avoiding junior high
since I finally got out of it.

"What was that all about?" Brandon asks after Nick leaves again.

"The end of my fabulous day." But wait! There is still the inevitable
meeting over chocolate occurring sometime in the next two hours.

Sunlight shines again.

I smile.

Brandon stares at me. "You're up to something."

"My lips are sealed."

"Uh-huh." He reaches for the brownies and gets the same hand slap
Nick received. "Well, if it involves me and someone female in gender,
forget about it. You are not going to set me up."

Set Brandon up? The thought is preposterous. "You?" I snort. "You
and who? Beachfront Barbie?"

His mouth twists in a poor attempt not to smile.

"Hi, guys."

A girl with a blonde ponytail and a face void of makeup, wearing a
fleece pullover, jeans, and hiking boots stops beside the kitchen counter.

I smile nicely. "Hi." My brain scrambles. I do not know this person.

Brandon saves me. "Hannah! You came! That's great!"

Hannah? This natural beauty is Hannah? Polka-Dot Barbie owns a
pair of leg coverings?

I blink several times in succession.

"Hi, Hannah," I stumble.

"Forgive Laurie." Brandon doesn't pull his eyes from our exquisite
coworker. "She's like this when we let her loose around chocolate."

Hannah giggles, and it isn't the high-pitched squeak I heard all day
yesterday. This laugh is actually pleasant.

Something fishy is going on.

"Want to find a seat?" Brandon asks her.

"Sure."

They disappear into the throng.

I watch them dissolve with a sigh. It's not just friendship in Brandon's eyes.

It's admiration.

And how quickly admiration grows into love.

A twinge akin to jealousy catches in my side. If Brandon gets serious
with Boardwalk Barbie-

Hannah. Her name is Hannah, Laurie.

If Brandon gets serious with Hannah, our friendship will become
like yesterday's oatmeal. Guy-girl friendships don't work when one of the
guy-girl gets married to a different guy or girl.

She is going to steal my basically-brother.

"Let's get things started!" Nick yells just in time. The pan of brownies is poised to disappear down my tightening throat.

I sit on the floor beside Luke and Holly, Engaged Couple Number 4.

"There is one thing to do: Hannah needs to fall in love with someone
who doesn't have a photography studio named after him.

I glance skillfully around the room. Who are our eligible bachelors
here tonight?

'There is Andrew. Thirty-five and counting. Too old for Hannah.

Marvin. Nah.