Miss Match (31 page)

I pour the coffee wondering what is wrong with the thirty spare
sheets we have stowed away in Laney's old closet.

The phone rings and I answer.

"Hi, Baby."

"Lex." I yawn.

"You're still home? Good. I had a question. Do you want to meet
me for an early dinner tonight before your Bible study? Nate's got some shindig at work, and we haven't talked just the two of us in ... well,
days, at least."

"Mmm. Can't."

"Really?"

Wincing at the innuendo in her voice, I gulp a big mouthful of
coffee. "Yeah. Sorry, sis."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Plans."

"You already have plans or you're making plans?"

"Already have them."

"With who?"

"Could be a what, you know."

"Are you having dinner with Ryan?"

"Maybe."

"I see." I can hear her delight. I drop my head onto the table. "What
was that?" she asks suddenly.

"What?"

"That thud. I heard a thud. You're not trying your hand at cooking
again, are you?"

"I hit my head."

"On what?"

"The table."

Long pause. "I'm not even going to ask. Okay. Maybe I'll call Laney
and see if Adam can watch the kids tonight."

"Sounds good, Lex."

"Have a nice day, Honey. Tell Ryan hi for me." She hangs up before
I can respond.

I hang up and pour another cup. My plans for the day include
watching a movie, eating chocolate, and, if I feel like it, Perhaps Playing
Ping-Pong.

Heh, heh.

I pull on my favorite winter outfit. It doesn't match, and I got it in
seventh grade. Black and pink striped fleece pants and a Christmas tree
sweatshirt. I pull my hair up and go downstairs to park myself in front
of the TV.

Brandon is in the entry.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" I greet him.

"Yeah, but I knew you were off and you'll be gone a month, so I
decided to hang with you today."

I stare at him. He wears nice jeans that haven't faded yet, a buttondown shirt, and loafers. His hair is gelled and spiked.

Exasperated, I point to his outfit.

He looks down at his shoes. "Sorry," he apologizes.

"You cannot hang in that."

"Sure, I can. Better yet, I'll go stroke the fire." He strides off.

"I think you mean stoke the fire."

"Whatever." He marches to the fireplace, where just the smallest
orange glow hangs onto a log for dear life.

"Hey there, little fella," Brandon says to the flame. "Want me to
get some of that ash out of the way for you? Hey! Laur! Look, it nodded
at me!"

I curl up on the couch. "Careful, Brandon, it might want to go home
with you."

There are probably some very good scientific names for the fireplace
tools, but I've always called them the poker, grabber, and shovel. Brandon
pulls the poker out and shoves a few logs around.

Swish! The flame finds another one.

Swooosh!Zhey multiply and replenish the fireplace.

Biblical fire. Who would have thought?

Brandon puts the poker away and joins me on the couch. "So what movie is it going to be?" he asks, flicking my hair. "Nice hair, by
the way."

"How'd you know I was watching a movie?" I turn my head so he
can't keep pulling my hair. "And this is my day-off hairstyle."

"And those are your movie clothes. What movie?" he asks again.

"While You Were Sleeping."

He shakes his head. "How about The Fugitive?"

"7he Count of Monte Cristo?"

"Done." He finds the movie. "I know why you like this movie, by
the way."

I spread out my hands. "The cinematography, obviously."

"And it's not the action sequences."

"Of course not. I like the soundtrack."

"I'm putting my money on Jim Caviezel." He gestures at me with
the DVD case.

I blink innocently. "Jim who?"

He picks up the remote. "You get very excited at the end."

"Well, he's shaven then."

"Simple minds, simple pleasures."

The doorbell rings. I skip down the stairs and swing open the door before
the chiming stops.

Ryan is on the front porch, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, his
eyebrows raised. "You are way too excited about this."

"Am not." I grab my coat.

He sticks his hand out suddenly. "Hold it." He turns me around.

I bite my lip.

"Oh ... my ... gosh," he says, slow and drawn out.

"Okay, now before you get mad-"

"Lauren Emma Holbrook!"

"Which I suppose has already happened. I didn't-"

"You made a T-shirt for this." Accusations ring in his tone and reflect
from his brown eyes.

I try pulling an Ethel Mertz. "Weeell ..."

His mouth is open in shock. "`Just kiss her,' Laurie?"

"Hannah thought it was funny."

Ryan's shaking his head. "You made a T-shirt for this," he
says again.

"But I'm wearing my coat over it. See?"

"Why did you do this?"

I shrug. "Hannah dared me."

He covers his face. "You two are a pair. Come on. We'll be late."

I follow him to his truck and smile sweetly as he opens the door for
me. "Thanks, Ryan dear."

"Just get in." He groans.

I climb into the passenger seat and he closes the door after me. A
second later, he slides in. "Hey, Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for taking me."

A smile sneaks onto his face. He sighs. "Not fair, Laurie. I can't stay
mad at you."

"I'll try to do something really bad next time so you will."

"There's not going to be a next time."

"Mmm, maybe."

He shoots me a look.

I grin.

We drive in silence for a few blocks.

Here's what I hate: Silence. I try looking out the window for something to comment on, but talking about the weather is lame and there is
nothing interesting going on outside.

"Hey, Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

I decide to take him into my confidence. "What do you think about
Brandon and Hannah?"

He shrugs. "They're nice."

"I meant together, Ryan."

He presses his lips tight and stares out the windshield. "Brandon and
Hannah?"

"Why not?"

He appears to be thinking about it. "Guess I don't know them that
well. No setting them up, Laurie."

"How come?"

He sends me a quick glance. "If God wants them together, He can
orchestrate that much better than you can."

"Gee, thanks."

"And I'm pretty sure God's not in the market for assistants. So back
off, Susan."

I look at him. "What did you just call me?"

"Susan. The little girl on Miracle on 34" Street. Ruby made me watch
it this past Christmas. I thought it an appropriate reference."

"An appropriate reference to what?"

"You. You and Susan have the same little conniving brain."

"Again, gee, thanks."

He grins at me. "You're welcome."

He drives into the parking lot and finds a spot near the back. "There's
Ruby's car." He points to her little red Honda.

I look around. "I don't see Hannah's."

"Hannah's coming?"

"She's Nick's date."

He unbuckles his seat belt. "I feel like we should say a prayer
or something."

"For what? Success?" I ask, climbing out.

"For safety. All this meddling is going to bring a lightning bolt on
your head."

"Just don't touch me and you should be fine."

A much too skinny girl in tight black pants and an untucked white
shirt opens the door for us. "Welcome to Vizzini's."

"Thanks," Ryan says.

"Party of two?"

"Actually, I have reservations," I tell her. "Is JACK here by
any chance?"

The girl scuffs around the desk. "Yes. What's your name?"

"Laurie."

She looks down at the desk again, twirling her hair around one
finger. "Okay. Follow me, please."

She grabs two menus and leads us around tables, chairs, and the big
water fountain in the middle and finally points to a secluded table behind
a bunch of plants.

"This it?" she asks.

"Yes." I sit and peer around a particularly large green, waxy-looking
plant.

Ryan sits opposite me, and the girl shoves menus in front of our
faces. "JACK will be your waiter."

She scuffs back the way she came.

Plants of all shapes and sizes are clustered around our table like they
had just witnessed a murder scene right before. Ryan inhales. "This part
of the place is definitely more humid."

"You don't have to tell me. I should have done my hair curly instead
of straight. Not like we'll be able to tell the difference in about ten minutes." I crane my neck, trying to find them.

"What are you-"

"There! There they are!" I clap my hands over my mouth, trying
not to laugh too loudly. "He's so cute. I wonder what he's talking about?
Remind me to get flowers."

"For Ruby? She'll need them." Ryan's face is creased as he watches
Stephen going all for it in his conversation.

"No, Nick can get those. Flowers for Stephen. This is a huge favor
he's doing for me."

Ruby and Stephen sit at a table a few feet away. Ruby's back is to us, which is just how I told JACK to do it. Not only does it hide us from
Ruby's tortured eyes, but it also gives us a first-class view of Stephen.

He smiles at me over Ruby's shoulder.

I grin.

He's talking animatedly, using his hands, his eyes, his eyebrows, and
his torso. Ruby's head nods occasionally. And if it is regular coffee in
front of her, she's going to be buzzing all night the way she's putting it
down.

Ryan watches her, grimacing. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Of course I do. Have a little faith." I pat his arm. "Can you see
Nick?"

He looks around. "Ah, over there, Laur."

Nick's back is to us. He looks down at the table, tracing a design on
it. Hannah sees my wave and takes the opportunity to grin at us.

I mouth, "Has he seen Ruby?"

She nods slightly.

I grin and turn back to Ryan.

"Decided what you want, Ryan? It's on me."

He just stares at me. "I did tell you that you were liking this too
much, right?"

"Yes, you did."

JACK approaches the table cautiously. "Did I do it right?" he
asks me.

I signal an okay. "Perfect. Thank you so much."

He smiles for the first time since the water-spaghetti incident. "What
can I get you two to drink?"

"Coffee," Ryan and I say together.

He scribbles it down on his order pad. "Know what you want
to eat?"

"Can I have a piece of your raspberry chocolate cake?" I ask.

Ryan wisely keeps his mouth shut.

"Sure." JACK obviously assumes we've eaten somewhere else.
"Dessert for you as well?"

Ryan makes a harrumph sound. "No, I'll have the ravioli."

JACK keeps scribbling. "Anything else?"

"A dinner salad. Ranch dressing," I say.

Ryan holds up his fingers. "Two."

JACK nods and leaves.

I look back to Nick and Hannah. Her eyes are big and sad at the
moment, her hands moving as she tells a story.

I'm pretty sure I don't want to know what she is talking about.

"What is he doing?" Ryan mutters.

I turn to Ruby and Stephen. He twirls spaghetti around his fork and
holds it out to Ruby.

"Oh. Oh now that is just sick," Ryan exclaims. "Oh my gosh, I can't
watch." He covers his face, gagging. "She didn't take it, did she? Tell me
she didn't take it."

Ruby's back stiffens. She cuts a huge forkful of lasagna and shoves it
in her mouth, holding a hand up to Stephen. He watches her, a smile on
his face, and eats the spaghetti himself.

"She didn't take it," I tell Ryan, who is busy gulping down the coffee
JACK set in front of us. I pick up my fork and attack the salad.

"Thank goodness." He puts his cup down weakly, pinching his forehead. "I don't know how much of this I can stand, Laur."

"Don't worry. Another three cups of that and you'll have the
energy."

"When I think about Ruby eating off his fork ... " He shudders.

"Hey. Relax, kid. It's just a joke, remember? And if Ruby seriously
fell for Stephen right now, I would personally take her to get her head
examined. He's supposed to be as gross as possible. `Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees."'

He blinks. "What?"

I grin. "Hebrews 12:12. Found that verse yesterday. Great, isn't it?
Sounds like a greeting card."

He finally smiles. "Oh, Laurie. Only you would memorize that
particular verse. Whatever happened to the typical memory verses? You
know, Psalm 23, Ephesians 5:1, that kind."

"Typical, shmypical." I make a face. "Who wants to be average?"

"You're right. Most people just aim for normal."

"I aim higher."

He laughs at me and changes the topic, crunching a cucumber.
"How's small-group prep going?"

I take a deep breath. "Good, I think. It begins this Tuesday. I'm a
little nervous, actually. I haven't ever taught anything like this before."

He reaches over and rubs my hand. "My turn to quote the Bible.
`Do not worry about what to say or how to say it.' Matthew 10:19. You'll
do fine."

"Sweet boy, thou art. I'll keep you around." I lean over to watch
Ruby again.

She puts a hand to her face and tries to look unassumingly over her
shoulder at Nick. She's not the best at being subtle. I see it plain as day
and so does Nick because he's looking at her. They both jerk back to
their dates.

Ryan's still talking. "So, Laurie, fishing trip starts in about two
weeks. Ready for nature?"

I moan like I should be in the ER. "I'm never ready for nature."

"And I had you pinned as the outdoor type all this time." He's trying
to hide a smile behind his coffee cup and failing miserably.

I look at him. "You know how long our driveway is?"