Miss Match (6 page)

Nick. Taken and doesn't know it.

My eyes settle on Stephen Weatherby. Twenty-nine. Med student.
Ambitious. Charming. And quite good-looking, now that I look at him.

Perfect.

The Plan is falling into place. Hannah will become a Christian.
Stephen will begin to admire her many high-heeled qualities. Brandon
will be forced out, leaving me, Lauren Holbrook, his longtime best friend,
to be his best friend forever and ever.

Amen.

Nick stands and reads from 1 Corinthians. "Love is patient, love
is kind......

Fitting.

I am twenty-three years old, and I have heard this passage eight times
in my five years in the singles' class.

Stephen sits in a folding chair, his guitar on his knee. "Let's go to the
Lord in worship." His fingers strum down the strings.

Three praise songs and two hymns later, Nick again stands. "Most of
us are single because we're waiting for love."

Not this one.

"What we need to realize is God has called us to be single because of
His love. He wants to show us love that can truly fulfill us."

Nick teaches for thirty minutes. We take prayer requests. Pray.
Dismiss.

Opportunity number one.

"Ruby!" I yell.

Ruby comes over. "Hi, Laurie." She looks confused at my calling.
We're not close friends, in case you didn't guess.

She's still wearing her work clothes and looking frightfully uncomfortable. Unexpectedly, I feel a little sorry for her. This Bible study can be
a bit overwhelming the first couple of times, particularly if you don't like
people to begin with. This is only Ruby's third time coming, though she
comes regularly to church.

Confession: First time she came, I wanted to cry with the sheer injustice of having to see her for an entire twelve hours.

I smile warmly at her now, and her confused look just gets deeper.

"Ruby, Nick has a question for you." I snag Nick's sleeve as he
passes by.

"Oh yeah, that's right." Nick smiles a little awkwardly at her and
repeats his proposal of teaching the junior high kids.

Ruby nods. "Of course I'll help."

"That was fast." Nick grins.

"And cooperative and helpful," I say. "You're making me look
bad, Ruby."

She smiles. Smiles! The corners of Ruby Palmer's mouth actually
lift!

It is a miracle. I have worked with this woman for the last three years
and gone to church with her for the last year, and I can count on one
hand how many times I've seen her smile. I am blessed just to witness it.

Must keep her smiling. I start jabbering. "Nick and I were talking about that chocolate lava cake you brought to the studio around
Christmas. He was wondering if you could bring it next week."

She nods again. "Sure. It's not that hard."

"It would be for me." The point is to make her seem like a gourmet.
"Ruby, Nick wants us to teach together, but would you mind doing the
majority of the teaching? I'm still kind of young to be leading it."

The key is for Nick to see how mature Ruby is. He's looking at her,
eyes narrowed, expression contemplative. Sort of how I look when I'm
trying to discern whether I should get the House Blend or French Roast
at Starbucks.

"Not a problem," she says. "When do we start?"

"Three weeks," Nick says. "I've got the curriculum for you."

"Good. Do you want me to pick it up?" She smoothes her plain hair
behind her ear.

Nick shakes his head. "I'll bring it by the studio for you."

She smiles. Again! "Thanks."

He smiles, slightly shrugging, the contemplation over, I guess. "No,
thank you."

Then they smile awkwardly again.

If I weren't so happy, I would probably be puking. Score is Cupid: 2,
Disinterestedness: 0.

I leave Nick and Ruby to chat about their newfound love for each other and go to pry Hannah away from my best pal.

"Hey, Laurie."

Obstacle. Not good. Stephen Weatherby stands directly between me
and the goal.

"Hi, Stephen. How are you?" I ask because, darn it, I was raised to
be polite.

He grins at me, fingering his guitar strings. "Good. Work is crazy,
but life is going well. How about you?" Stephen is an intern at the hospital. He's going to be a doctor.

"Oh fine. Nothing new in picture world."

He laughs for about two minutes.

This is not good at all.

I peek over Stephen's shoulder and see Brandon and Hannah in a
very serious discussion. His mouth is moving rapid-fire, and she's nodding continuously.

If I know Brandon, and I know him very well, he's giving her the
gospel message point-blank. Brandon doesn't mince words when it comes
to evangelism.

"-make them?" Stephen asks.

I blink. "Oh, sorry, Stephen, what did you say?"

"I said, these are good brownies, did you make them?" He repeats
this louder. I guess he attributes my lack of attention to the deafening
noise in the room.

"Yeah, but they're from a box."

"They taste better than any box brownies I've ever had." Stephen
smiles, his eyes darkening.

Uh-oh. Yep, there it is. Shining in bright neon lights from the scoreboard. Score is Cupid- 3, Disinterestedness: I.

This is not The Plan. Hannah is supposed to be catching young Dr.
America's attentions, not me.

What is wrong with Stephen anyway? I've known him almost all my
life. His mom and my mom were good friends. Why, oh why, oh why did
he choose this night to pick up a conversation?

"Thanks," I answer him.

I catch Brandon's wave. He marches over, Ski Trip Barbie behind
him. "I'm going to give Hannah a ride home."

Stephen smiles at Hannah. "Hi. I'm Stephen Weatherby. I don't
think we've met."

Oh good. A good development. Finally.

Hannah smiles her pretty smile. "Hannah Curtis. Nice to meet you."

They shake hands.

"Where are you from, Hannah?" he asks.

"California."

"Oh, well it's good to have you here." Stephen turns slightly from me
and more toward Hannah.

I'm not offended in the least.

I look at Brandon. He watches the exchange between Hannah and
Stephen, a short smile on his face.

"Uh, excuse us." I grab Brandon by the bicep and push him into
the kitchen.

He yanks his arm away. "What are you doing?"

"Here. Have a brownie." Maybe with his mouth full of chocolate,
he'll be more receptive to The Plan.

He takes it suspiciously. "What is going on?"

"I just think that Stephen and Hannah wanted to talk privately for
a few minutes." I set the brownie knife in the near-empty pan. "Stephen
went to school in California for a few years. They can talk tourist talk."

Brandon swallows. "Laurie."

"Don't say it, Brandon. I know what you are thinking."

He takes another bite. Swallows. "Did you make these brownies?"

"Yep."

He licks his lips. "They're good."

"Oh. Thanks."

"I mean it. What did you put in them? These aren't your normal
brownies."

I cut another square for him. "You're right."

Brandon's eyes widen. "Let me guess. Cyanide?"

"Nutmeg, you idiot. You would all be dead now if it were cyanide."

"Hmm." He finishes the brownie. "Good decision. Okay. I'll see you
at work tomorrow. I'm taking Hannah home."

"How did she get here?" I set the knife in the pan and cross my arms
over my chest.

He pauses. "I have no idea."

"Well, unless she broke her foot sometime between verses three
and four, I think she can safely drive herself home. She's not a little kid,
Brandon."

He makes a noise deep in his throat. I've known him long enough
to know it means, You're perfectly right, Lauren Holbrook; I just don't want
to admit it.

Nick and Ruby are sitting at the kitchen table eating brownies. Ping!
Cupid- 4. The other team doesn't count since the only one who scored
is me.

She laughs at something he says.

This is not a Normal Occurrence.

Brandon apparently follows my gaze because he gasps. "Is that Ruby
Palmer over there?"

I "mm-hmm" sappily. "Yep."

"The same one who works with us?"

"Yep." I can't keep a proud smile off my face.

"Laughing?" His tone gives away what he thinks. He stares at me for a second. "Laurie." Now his tone is accusing.

"Yes, dear Brandon? Would you like another brownie?"

He just shakes his head at me.

"Give it seven months," I say. "Seven months and we'll hear the bells
tolling for Mr. and Mrs. Nicolas Amery."

I smile at them like the proud matchmaker I am. Nick and Ruby
Amery.

I like the sound of that!

"All right. Hold a second, don't move! Good! Now, say `spaghetti!"'

"Three voices mutter "spaghetti" through clinched smiles. Father,
mother, fifteen-year-old daughter.

"Say, 'Dad, I'm eloping with Dave from chemistry class!"'

The girl bursts out laughing. Click goes the camera.

I love being a photographer. You get to make people say stupid things
for a living.

"And you're done." I pull the computer mouse from the ledge beneath
the camera, click the close and send buttons, and get the computer ready
for a new family.

The dad stretches. "Thanks, Laurie."

"You're welcome. Hannah can get you situated in a viewing room
and you can pick the poses and we'll have the prints done by tomorrow
at four." The speech rolls off my tongue as naturally as possible. "See
you tomorrow!"

The door closes after them. It is ten minutes until three, and I still
have four appointments left.

I pick up the props in the studio and go to find a Dr. Pepper before
the Fentons show up.

"Laurie, come here for a sec," Brandon calls from his office.

Reverse my steps. Slink into his office. Flop into chair.

"Cut with the drama, Laur." Brandon sits on his desk. "I need you to
do me a favor. Hannah's car is in the shop, and I picked her up for work.
Nick called; he needs help moving a neighbor's furniture, and I have to
leave early."

I can hear the favor before he says it. "And you want me to take her
home." I bite my bottom lip. "Fine." Better me than Brandon anyway.

"Good! Thanks."

"I'd better get time and a half for this. You made me miss my caffeine break." Brandon's neon clock shouts "Three o'clock!"

He points at me with his pen. "Caffeine has been said to shorten
life spans."

"If I'm going to die, Brandon, I want to die happy." I close the door
on his laugh.

Four families crowd the waiting room. Two have sobbing babies.
Five kids under the age of five run wildly around in circles. Eight adults
yell simultaneously: "Sit down! Be quiet! Behave!"

Hannah's perfect blonde hair is beginning to frazzle. For the tiniest
minute, I feel sorry for her.

"Fentons!" I yell, the minute of pity over.

A brown-haired couple stands, grabs three of the little kids by the
arms, and drags them kicking and screaming over to me.

"Hi." Fake smile. "I'm Laurie."

"We're the Fentons," the man says, breathing hard.

"We'll be in Studio Two. Follow me, please."

I pray the entire distance to the studio.

Six o'clock does not come soon enough. I stare with Hannah at the wreck
compromising the waiting room.

We keep a few toys on hand to distract the kids. They are strewn over
the entire room: On the chairs, on the tables, on Hannah's desk. A quite
distinct jelly-coated handprint mars the front of it.

Hannah looks at it, exhaustion written on her beautiful face. "Should
we make a copy for the police?"

Humor. Bubblegum Barbie has a sense of humor?

"A copy!" I start laughing hysterically.

Hannah giggles.

I am laughing so hard I have to sit down. Then I can't breathe, so I
stretch out on my back, tears rolling down my face.

I calm somewhat and roll to my side. Hannah is on the floor as well,
wiping mascara-coated tears from her cheeks.

We make eye contact.

She grins.

Bad move.

We both start wheezing, crying, choking on the bubbles of mirth
overriding our systems. "A copy!" I gasp for breath. "For the police! Look
out, Hannah! We've been jammed!"

Hannah whoops. "I can see the headlines now: `Police Searching for
Jelly-Fingered Mobster."'

"In diapers!"

"The Jelly-Fingered Rugrat!"

It is in this state Ty, Newton, and Ruby find us. Ty and Newton
merely mutter under their breaths, step over us, and walk out.

Ruby stops. "What on earth?"

I roll to my stomach, inhaling the musty scent from the carpet. "Hi,
Ruby." My body convulses in half breaths, half laughs.

Hannah snorts, breathes hard, and giggles again. "Hi, Ruby."

Ruby smiles at us.

Miracles never cease.

"What is going on?" The bark is gone from Ruby's voice.