Make Me a Match

“Six years if a day,” Lora’s mother said firmly.

Aghast, Lora blurted out, “Six years! I’m almost twenty-five years old! What’s wrong, have you gone through every twenty-something male you know so now you want me to date teenagers?”

“I never noticed this age prejudice in you before,” her grandmother tsked. “Besides, your mother is exaggerating.”

Lora felt a scream coming on.

Lora’s Mom shook her head. “Lora’s right, he’s too young.”

Lora said, “Thank you, Mom.” At last, reason.

“I want grandchildren,” her mother continued. “What kind of money can a teenager earn unless he’s a dot-com genius or in a rock band? Enough to support a family? I don’t think so.”

“Pauline assures me her godson has potential,” Grandma Ella insisted.

Lora’s mom clicked her tongue. “So does the new barber across the street and he’s got his own business.”

“Owning a barbershop is good,” Grandma said. “No matter what happens, men will always need someone to cut their hair because there’s not a one of them that can do a decent job of it himself unless he shaves his head. Okay, we’ll just feed this boy some strawberry shortcake and shoo him on his way.”

Angela nodded. “Good. By the way, Lora, I met the barber face-to-face this morning. His name is Michael. He’s just delightful and listen to this—he asked about you!”

With renewed clarity, Lora knew that something had to give and it wasn’t going to be her. She no longer cared that her mother and grandmother seemed happy in their matchmaking schemes—these women needed a different diversion than Lora’s love life and what better diversion than a love life of their own!

She was back on track.

She said, “Grandma, I’m not going to be here for dinner or desert.”

“But how will that look?”

Leaning over her grandmother and kissing her soft hair, she said, “Sweetie, it doesn’t really matter how it looks.” She assumed a stern expression and added, “I’ve repeatedly told you guys that for the time being, I’ve sworn off men. As for marriage and babies, just forget it. A woman isn’t defined in the old ways anymore.”

“But being part of a team is truly wonderful,” Angela said with a sappy glow in her eyes. “A woman needs a man, honey. Sure, there are hard times, and I know Calvin hurt you when he ran off to Chicago. Trust me, I know about hurt. But that shouldn’t sour you on all men.”

Lora was speechless. Her mother’s faith in the opposite sex, no matter how many times she’d been proven wrong, was astounding.

“Just stay and have dessert,” Grandma Ella added as she hulled strawberries. “After this, I promise, no teenagers.”

“I need to go out to the greenhouse,” she said, gesturing at the cloudy glass structure in her backyard. “I’ll lock up after myself out there and water in the mornings on my way to work. And don’t forget to feed my fish.” All this was said as Lora scribbled Dr. Reed’s name and phone number on a scrap of paper and shoved it into her mother’s hands. An hour later, greenhouse chores complete and overnight bag packed, she pulled out of the driveway just as a kid in a red convertible pulled in.

Victor Reed lived in a sprawling split-level house on the outskirts of town. The huge yard was beautifully designed with towering trees and lush foliage, including masses of late-blooming rhododendrons, but everything was overgrown. Lora guessed that Dr. Reed’s wife had been in charge of the upkeep.

Her mother was a gardening wizard!

Two cats, one gray and white and the other coal-black, sat on the front porch, smack in front of the door. A riot of barking ensued at the sound of Lora’s knock. She tried the knob. Two large dogs charged outside as the two cats darted inside. Lora juggled her suitcase and the flower arrangement as the dogs sniffed and wagged.

She had to yell. “Hello?”

“Back here,” Dr. Reed called.

The big yellow dogs came back inside with Lora. A third dog came charging down the hallway—this one shaggy and about the size of a toaster oven. After a noncommittal growl, he licked her suitcase.

The same sense of good taste gone to seed permeated the house. Apparently, Dr. Reed had let the whole shebang get away from him. Well, she had a cure for that, didn’t she? Over the weekend, she’d get her mother to come over to help weed and casually introduce her to Dr. Reed. They’d stare into each other’s eyes. Mom would see an older man with laugh lines and a gentle heart and Dr. Reed would see an attractive middle-aged woman with great legs and a ready smile. The scenario played itself out in Lora’s head.

All that was left was to find grandma a match!

The dogs led Lora to a smallish room with dark leather furniture and shelf upon shelf of books. A big desk sat in one corner, but Dr. Reed was sprawled on a recliner, his bandaged foot out in front, a blanket thrown over the rest of him. A different cat, this one pure white, slept on his lap. His crutches were on the floor beside his chair and a muted television flashed light into the room.

“You came just in time,” Dr. Reed said. “I’m about to starve to death. Maybe you could order us a pizza.”

“Or maybe I could just fix something,” Lora said.

“Jess did the shopping. All she bought was real food.”

“Real food?”

“As opposed to the stuff you can throw in the microwave. Can you cook?”

Stepping over the dogs that had settled on the rug, she put his flowers on the desk and dumped her suitcase out of the way. “Can I cook?” she scoffed. “Point the way to your kitchen.”

Dr. Reed’s sister had indeed stocked the refrigerator and within half an hour, Lora had stir-fried shrimp and asparagus and cooked a pot of jasmine rice. She made a tray for the both of them and took it back to the den. All the animals had settled close to Dr. Reed. In unison, they looked up as the aroma of food wafted across the room.

“Kick them out into the backyard,” he said as she set the tray on a low table. “Just shake the treat jar by the back door, they’ll come running. Don’t worry, the yard is fenced. Boy, I’m sure glad you’re used to animals.”

Not those who actually had feet, she thought. Sure enough, the furry critters showed up with the first rattle of their treat jar. By the time she returned to the den, Dr. Reed was in the process of spearing a shrimp. “Who knew you could cook like this?” he said after tasting it. “You’re so young.”

“My mother taught me,” Lora said. “She’s a great cook. It’s incredible she’s kept her figure.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“Oh, she is,” Lora gushed.

He smiled at her and they chatted while they ate. She discovered he’d been widowed for several years, that all his pets were former patients their owners had abandoned in one way or another and that he had a delightful attitude about life. In other words, he was the total opposite of her father. Lora beamed. Her mother was going to love this guy.

Lora felt so at home that when the doorbell rang she jumped up without waiting for Dr. Reed to ask her to get it. Through the glass panel, she could see Jon Woods standing on the porch, a duffel bag in his hand, an impatient look on his face.

What was he doing here?

She had half a mind to pretend no one was home, but that was stupid, he could see the Lora Dunes Florist van out front. That duffel bag was ominous, however, so steeling herself against his disdain, she opened the door.

“Where are the dogs?” he said.

What a greeting! It was obvious he was still suspicious of her. Lora smiled and said, “I poisoned them and buried them in the backyard. Want to see?”

He groaned and shook his head.

Had she really known him for just this one day, and how had he gone from being so nice to being so annoyed in such a short time?

Was it because she wasn’t trying to make him like her? If so, it was obvious her own true personality wasn’t exactly magic when it came to the opposite sex. The blasted sweater probably didn’t help much, either. She vowed to get rid of it. Dating or not, a girl had her pride.