Miss Match: a Lauren Holbrook novel

Ruby walks in. “Hey, girls. Want to join me for lunch today?”

  “Yes,” I say immediately, thankful for the interruption.

  “Sure. You can help me talk some sense into Laurie,” Hannah says.

  “I’ve tried that before. It didn’t work.” Ruby grins, tugs on her hair again, and disappears into Studio Three.

  The bell over the door jangles and Dr. America walks in. Again. He’s wearing jeans and a semi-nice blazer, looking very collegiate. His blond hair is combed just-so, but when he pulls his shades off, his eyes are solemn.

  Hannah smiles sweetly first at Stephen and then at me. “Don’t worry, Laurie, the Jackmans won’t be around for another twenty minutes.”

  The corners of Stephen’s mouth lift in a half smile, but his eyes don’t lose the seriousness.

  “Could we talk?” he asks.

  Uh-oh. I have a foreboding feeling in my little toe about this conversation.

  Once again, I follow him outside.

  “What’s up?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant.

  “Uh, it’s about, uh, tonight,” Stephen stutters. “I’ve been doing some thinking and well . . . you see, I’m leaving for California soon for a two-year fellowship that very possibly can turn into a long-term job.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly.

  “And I like you. A lot. But I don’t think it’s fair to either of us to start, um, dating right now.” His voice drops to a near whisper. “Understand?”

  I smile. My chest eases.

  “I’ve been trying to call you,” I say, deciding honesty is the best policy. “For the same conclusion, but different reasons.”

  His forehead creases. “I don’t remember the phone ringing.”

  “I hung up a few times before it could ring.”

  He smiles. “Why?”

  “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. It was really sweet of you to ask me out.” I turn on my full-wattage grin. “Can we stay friends?”

  I have always sworn I will never use that line, but it slips from my mouth like a smallmouth bass from a fishing basket.

  Great. Our fishing trip is five weeks away, and I’m already using fishing analogies.

  “I’d like that,” Stephen answers. He grins in relief, gives me a hug, and walks to his car. “See you tomorrow night at Bible study.”

  I go inside.

  Hannah taps her pen on the desk impatiently. “So?”

  “So we aren’t going out. Stephen doesn’t want to have a relationship when he’s leaving in a little while.”

  She is incredulous. “You are the luckiest person alive.”

  I’m not sure how to respond to that. “Thank you.”

  I wake up on Wednesday without the help of my alarm. I love the days I have off from work.

  I pull on a pair of sweats and go downstairs. Dad has a map of California spread out in front of him and is tracing a path with a highlighter.

  “Morning, Hon. Cinnamon rolls will be done in a few minutes.”

  I love my dad.

  I give him a hug. “Thanks.”

  Today is going to be a lovey-dovey day, I can tell. I’ve had lovable feelings about two separate things now.

  “What’s on your plate today?” Dad caps the marker.

  “I’m going to go see Laney.”

  He nods approvingly. “Good.”

  “What about you?”

  “Figured I’d check out the sportsman stores in town.” Dad says it offhandedly, but I see his excitement.

  I grin. “When you find one you like, let me know. I’ll go with you next time.”

  “Deal.”

  I get to Laney’s about ten.

  Dorie answers the door. She’s five and my only niece. I spoil her like crazy, and she provides childlike wisdom to my chaotic life.

  “Auntie Lauren!” She flings herself into my arms.

  I catch her before she falls. “Whoa there, girl. Rein it in.” I chuck her cheek. Dorie is the cutest girl in the world. Brown wispy hair. Brown eyes. Chubby cheeks. She wants to work at a car wash when she grows up and live on a cherry tree farm.

  She’s talented, beautiful, and imaginative.

  I might be a tad bit biased though.

  Jess and Jack, twins at age three, barrel around the corner and each take one of my legs. “Lauren! Lauren! Lauren!”

  With Dorie in my arms and a kid wrapped around each leg, it takes me a good five minutes to get to the kitchen. Laney is at the kitchen table, peacefully drinking a cup of coffee.

  My sister amazes me. She gets married at twenty, has Dorie a year later, handles twin infants and a toddler, and still manages to be happy and cheerful.

  I want to be like Laney when I grow up.

  “Mom, Mom, look who’s here!” Jess screams.

  “Gosh, I wonder.” Laney looks up with a grin. “You guys greet Lauren so quietly.”

  “Subtlety is their dominion.” I untangle the boys and set Dorie down.

  “Hey!” Jack yells. “We got new shoes!”

  “Let’s show her!”

  The kids run from the room. The term run is used loosely. Chubby legs, socks on a wood floor, and no coordination doesn’t make for fast runners.

  Laney grins. “There’s more coffee in the pot, if you want some.”

  “It had better be decaf. How are you feeling?” I pull a mug from the cabinet.

  “Good. Really good. Much better than with the boys. And of course it’s decaf.”

  Laney is pregnant.

  I am ecstatic.

  “Can I tell Dad?” I pour the coffee and inhale. Vanilla. Laney has good taste.

  “Not yet. I’ll tell him when we’re there for lunch next Saturday. Speaking of which, what can I bring?”

  “Nothing. I’m picking up barbecue. And paper plates. No dishes. Less work.” I sit opposite her.

  “Lexi’s coming, right?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  Laney smiles. “I’m glad they went to England.”

  If I ever get married, I want to marry a British guy. Dark curly hair. Dark eyes. Tall, stately, refined. But with a sense of humor. Mr. Darcy, in other words.

  I nod. “Me too. Lex promised to check out the guys for me.”

  “I’m sure Nate will appreciate that.”

  “You’re five weeks along, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “This one should be a girl.”

  Laney’s eyes sparkle. “I’ll do my best.” She pats my hand. “Though really, Sweetie, I have absolutely no say in it.”

  “No. Really?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, you’ll have to pray harder than Adam. He wants it to be another boy so he can start his own baseball team.”

  I laugh. “Sounds like your husband. It’s taking the kids awhile to put shoes on, isn’t it?”

  Laney smirks into her coffee cup. “Two of them still aren’t sure how to do that, Lauren.”

  “You’re a cruel mom.”

  “Thanks. So what have you been up to lately?”

  “I’m teaching middle school girls.”

  She nearly gags on the coffee. “What?”

  “Not school subjects. We’re going through Romans. At church.”

  “Oh.” She draws the word out. “Got it. So how’s it going? I love that book, by the way. Romans is my favorite.”

  I lean my elbows on the table and study my oldest sister. Laney and I have always been this way. I can tell her anything, and I know it will never get repeated, not even to Lexi.

  I think about the brief skimming I’ve done of the curriculum. “Do you think God is sovereign?” I ask.

  “Yes.” She says it purposefully, without even a doubt.

  “Why?”

  She doesn’t answer me for a second, just looks. Finally she smiles. “Read Ephesians 1,” she says.

  Clumping sounds come from the hallway then, and I turn to see Dorie in ballerina shoes and Jack and Jess in brown hiking boots on the wrong feet.

  They all three grin a
t me, and a warm, sickly sweet feeling blooms in my chest until I think I will cry.

  I laugh instead. Give them all a hug. Tell them how great they look.

  Jess kisses my cheek as I leave, a good sloppy wet one still there when he pulls away.

  I like it so much I don’t wipe it off.

  Chapter Nine

  The night is cold and chilly, and judging by the dark, ominous clouds billowing over the horizon like a field of evil mushrooms, I know we are in for quite a snowstorm.

  I follow the bubbly written directions to Hannah’s apartment. She lives a good fifteen minutes out of my way, but I figure, what the heck? I can be nice.

  I pull into the parking space beside her Taurus. Undo my seat belt. Almost turn the car off, but she comes pattering down the metal steps and opens the passenger door. A blast of cold air follows. “Hi!” She grins, breathless, her cheeks turning pink from the cold, her long blonde hair swishing out from behind her in a ponytail.

  To have that kind of easy charm . . .

  I turn my mind from my envious thoughts. “Hey, Hannah.”

  “How was your day off?”

  “Good. Fun. I went to my sister’s. How was your day on?”

  She closes the car door and buckles her seat belt. “Fine.” She pulls her brightly printed scarf a few inches looser and grips her new Bible I helped her pick out.

  “Did you hear about Peter and Nancy?” Hannah says as I back out.

  “No.” Gee, for being on the job a week, she’s sure immersed herself quickly in Brandon and my little circle of friends.

  “They’re engaged! Isn’t that wonderful? They came in for pictures at two. They are so cute together! They said they’d be here tonight.”

  Peter and Nancy. One more couple in the singles’ class. I sigh. They are two of those people you know will end up together one day. It should not bother me so much.

  But it does. My mood turns in the general direction of Central America.

  Couples, couples, couples.

  I am only twenty-three years old. Yet, if this is the Magical Winter of Couplehood, I have missed the horse-drawn carriage.

  Is it just me, or is everyone getting married?

  “Laurie?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes. I am.”

  Hannah turns in her seat and stares at me with those all-seeing blue eyes.

  I throw one hand up, as the other clutches the steering wheel. “Fine. Fine, fine, fine. I am not —”

  “Fine?”

  “Yeah.” I rub my forehead. “I’m just tired, I think. This fishing trip will be a good break. One month of Trout, Trees, and Tranquility. No commitments, no schedules. Just plain relaxation.” The trip sounds better and better.

  Hannah smiles at me.

  “And best of all, no more engagement announcements!” I laugh in pure, unadulterated joy.

  Hannah shakes her head. “Good grief, Laurie. You’re only twenty-three. And a confirmed bachelorette. Or have you changed your mind?” There is a distinct matchmaker-like tone to her voice.

  That position is filled, thank you!

  “I have not changed my mind.” I’m firm and matter-of-fact. My mood becomes one of resignation and strength. I may be a confirmed bachelorette, but who is to say I can’t be a Cute, Charming, and . . . what’s another C word? Coquettish confirmed bachelorette?

  I pull onto Nick Amery’s street and park beneath the barely glowing streetlight. Spooky. I have deep fears about this street. I never let anyone female in gender walk out to her car by herself. I always go with her. And Brandon goes with me.

  Cute, Charming, Coquettish, and Courageous.

  Hannah grins as she gets out of the car, obviously recognizing my mood has lifted and my attitude is back in place.

  Bless Hannah.

  We run the short jaunt to the open garage door, squeeze past the avid game of pool going on, and go in through the kitchen.

  The scent of baking chocolate and percolating coffee hits me square in the nostrils as I go through the door, and I become a Pliable, Pathetic, Pitiful addict.

  “Hey, Laurie. And . . . Hannah, right? Good to see you,” Nick says.

  “I smell chocolate.” I stick one gloved finger in the air as I declare this blatantly obvious fact.

  Nick starts nodding. “I’m sure you do. Ruby made —”

  “And coffee,” I interrupt.

  He’s still nodding. “Ruby has the lava cake in the oven and the coffee, uh, making.”

  “Percolating, Nick. It’s called percolating,” Ruby says from behind him. “Hi, girls. Laurie, I recognize that look. Fear not, young one. The chocolate will be ready in thirty minutes. The coffee in five. In the meantime, snack on these.” She hands me a package of Oreos, her eyes twinkling.

  Given chocolate, I once again become the new me. Cute, Charming, and whatever that other stuff is.

  “Thanks, Ruby.” I shove two Oreos in my mouth. “You’re an angel.”

  “I know.”

  It isn’t Ruby who speaks, however. It’s Nick. Ruby turns the color of her Christmas-red sweater. Nick does too, actually, which makes it even funnier.

  I hate it when something like this happens and my mouth is full. I have a witty comment for it too.

  But, alas and alack, the moment is lost. Ruby excuses herself to the coffeepot, Nick to the rest of the group, and Engaged Couple Numbers Four, Five, and Seven walk into the bustling kitchen.

  Apparently, the little seventh-grade crush Nick had is back in full bloom. I can’t help the grin.

  I hide the Oreos under my coat and go to save a seat on the sofa. But the seats are already gone, so I resign myself to the floor.

  Slyly, I slip an Oreo into my mouth.

  “I saw that,” a voice whispers from behind me. I jump, whirl, and face someone I don’t know sitting on the couch behind me.

  I swallow. “Saw what?”

  He narrows his eyes at me. He is pretty good at it too, considering he is male and all. Males aren’t good when it comes to eye rolling, speaking with their eyes, or narrowing them.

  “The cookie.” He points. “You’ve got Oreos under your coat.”

  “Are you the chocolate police?” I immediately close my eyes. This is not the most intelligent comment I have ever made in my life. Good grief. How is it I can be completely at ease with Ruby, Hannah, Nick, Brandon, and any female and be so totally whacked-out with anyone else of the male species?

  He looks at me like I’m a kid Dorie’s age. “Uh, no.”

  I don’t know what else to say. Apparently, neither does he. So he sits in complete silence and I sit in crunching silence. I may be embarrassed, but I have never been too embarrassed to eat Oreos.

  Not in this lifetime.

  Ruby comes over with a mug full of steaming coffee. A fluffy mound of whipped cream floats on the top.

  “Here you go, Honey.”

  Honey? Did Ruby Palmer just call me Honey?

  I guess I’m beginning to rub off on Ruby. At least someone finds me Cute and Charming.

  “Thanks.” I grin, touched. “You even put whipped cream in it.”

  “And sugar. And milk.” She shakes her head. “Basically, it’s a liquid candy bar.”

  “May the Lord bless you and keep you, and may His face shine upon you.” I am in blissful ecstasy, the guy behind me forgotten.

  Ruby laughs. “I’d better leave before you quote the whole benediction.” She looks up. “Oh hey, have you met my brother Ryan?”

  I turn around and encounter Mr. Narrow Eyes again. “Uh, sort of,” I fumble. Cute, Charming, and Coquettish. Remember?

  “Ryan, this is my friend, Laurie Holbrook. Laurie, this is Ryan Palmer, my younger brother.”

  “Hi.” I manage a charming smile.

  He looks at me and then smiles back. “Hey.”

  Ruby leaves.

  “So do you go to school here?” he asks.

  “Nope. I work.”
>
  “Neat.”

  I pull the bag from under my coat, balancing Ruby’s coffee creation on my knee. “Would you like an Oreo?”

  Ryan suddenly grins. He has rather plain brown eyes, but they sparkle conspiratorially. “Can I have the bag?”

  “I don’t know you that well yet.”

  “Trust me.”

  I go against my better judgment and hand him the Oreos. He lifts the pillow resting against the arm of the sofa and tucks the bag behind it. “There. Now the bag won’t rustle every time you lean forward.”

  “Genius.” I appraise him. “You must have done better on the logical section than I did in the career placement tests.”

  “What career did they place you in?”

  “Gluing the corrugation to cardboard boxes.”

  He laughs. A nice laugh, actually.

  “What about you?”

  “Interior design.” He makes a face. “I dumped the results and went for a major in construction management. How about you? What was your major? Are you in the box-making industry?”

  “No. My friend Brandon Knox’s family has a photography studio that I’ve been working at since I was fifteen. Since that’s what I wanted to do anyway, I just kept working and didn’t go to college.” I pause for a second, then grin. “It’s where Ruby works.”

  “So you take pictures, huh? Like families and stuff? Like what Ruby does?”

  “Yep.”

  “Say cheese? The whole bit?”

  I nod.

  “Cool. Sounds like a nice job.”

  I can make a comment about the crying babies and bratty teens, but I don’t want to whine. Besides, Hannah is sending me suggestive smiles from the other side of the room, and quite frankly, I want to end this conversation before she gets any ideas about Ryan and me.

  “It’s okay.” I help myself to an Oreo.

  He leans forward, hands clasped between his knees. “Have you lived here long?”

  “My whole life.”

  “Wow. I was born here, but I just moved back last week. Mostly because of Ruby but also because I found a good job.”

  “In construction?” I am in amazement. Construction isn’t exactly a booming industry in this little Colorado town.

  “Yeah.” Ryan smiles shyly.

  Oh brother.

  “Okay, guys, let’s get things started,” Nick announces, saving me from the awkward part of the conversation where I’m supposed to say, “Well, hey, want me to show you around?”