Sparks the Matchmaker (Aaron Sparks Series)

by Elkins, Russell

  “Easier said than done. It’s gonna be on my mind until she tells me.”

  “Of course it is. But you might chase her off if you push it.”

  “I know. I know. I’m not going to push it. I just wish there was an easier way.”

  “You seem to really like her.” Keith looked Ollie in the eyes for a moment. “I haven’t heard you talk about Anne for a while. Is she out of your mind and gone for good now?”

  “Not completely. Lots of memories. And it’s hard to walk around campus and not think of her.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Anne will probably have a piece of me until I fall in love again, I guess. But at least I’ve started the process.”

  “And at least you’ve got Joy. Maybe that will turn into something. Crazy how you found her so fast.”

  “Yeah, crazy,” Ollie said, thinking of Sparks. “I’m pretty lucky, I guess.”

  ***

  That night, Ollie stared at the orange glow of the clock face from under the covers of his bed as he thought things over. He had a thousand questions; very few answers. Sparks— as usual— had a thousand and one answers, but no willingness to share them.

  What’s the purpose of all this?

  Ollie was like his on-again, off-again space heater— one minute he felt confident he’d get the girl eventually, but the next he was full of anxiety that she could still just dump him in the end. Hot, cold, off, on, and millions of questions in between.

  Maybe he could get some answers tomorrow afternoon. The weather was supposed to be nice and warm. Maybe they could plan something together. Like what, a picnic? Yeah right… that’s a great idea. Those usually go well for me. At the very least, what Ollie craved most was just one opportunity to see her face: to see if she was excited to see him or if she was still emotionally stuck. He hoped he would see excitement. But what if he didn’t? What would he do without Joy?

  Chapter 18

  Ollie was supposed to bring a blanket and something to drink. Joy was supposed to take care of the rest; she had a plan. The weather turned out as predicted— it was nice out. And while it was still cool enough to need a jacket, it wasn’t so cold that they couldn’t enjoy one last lazy afternoon outside in the low sunshine, an Indian summer afternoon without talk of work or school.

  Joy was ready to go when Ollie arrived at her house, a large smile on her face. The smile was especially comforting. Not all of his persistent questions were answered by that smile, but a few of them were laid to rest. She seemed like she was back to her regular self. Whatever had weighed her down the night before was gone, at least for the time being. What a relief.

  Ollie and Joy started their afternoon alone, but pretty soon they had company. At first it started out with a seagull begging for a crust of bread, but once the rest of the flock saw Joy’s generosity, the picnic became flooded with seagulls begging and squawking for attention. Ollie’s only concern was what would happen after they ran out of bread— I’ve seen bad things happen in Hitchcock movies.

  He soon had something far more important to worry about. “Joy?” A male voice resonated over the sounds of the birds.

  The two looked up simultaneously to see a young man, about their age, smiling and making his way toward them. His face was unfamiliar to Ollie, but Joy clearly recognized him. “Dusten? I didn’t know you lived around here.”

  Ollie spent the next few seconds analyzing her face, trying to read it for any information he could glean about the sudden crisis, but he felt clueless. He couldn’t be sure, but she seemed both happy to see him and hesitant about things. She didn’t blush or catch her breath when she looked at him, but that was about as far as his illiterate perceptions could read the book of her reaction.

  “Ollie, this is Dusten,” Joy said. “Dusten, Ollie.”

  “How do you guys know each other?” Ollie asked, feeling like a third wheel.

  “Well, we grew up near each other… sort of,” Dusten said.

  “Sort of?” Ollie asked.

  “We got to know each other in high school,” Joy said. “When he started dating my cousin, we went on a lot of double dates together.”

  “Yeah,” Dusten added. “I went to a different school than these guys did, but I got to know them pretty good once we started hanging out almost every weekend. Until she moved away, of course. So this is a nice surprise. We haven’t seen each other since high school.”

  “And you’re not dating her cousin anymore, I’m guessing,” Ollie added, more as a question than a statement.

  “Yeah, well,” Dusten said with a grin. “I was a year older than she was and things sort of fizzled out when I left for college. You know how it is. She’s married now, isn’t she, Joy?”

  “Yeah,” Joy smiled. “She’s just had a baby. A little girl.”

  Ollie sensed the palpable fondness Joy had for her cousin in the way she spoke about her. He assumed they’d been pretty close when she lived in Colorado. He was hoping this conversation, even though he was barely a party to it, could shed a little bit of light on her mood swing from the night before. Whenever high school was brought up, Joy just crawled into her shell. At least that’s what Ollie thought. But whatever it was that had set her off last night, it didn’t seem to be connected with this guy. He monitored the conversation in vain, hoping to solve the mystery.

  “Well! It’s great to see you again,” Dusten said. “Where are you living, anyway?”

  “Near the corner of 7th and University,” she said.

  “Really? That’s only about a block and a half away from me,” he said. “Why don’t you come over tonight? My roommates do this thing that they call Acoustic Night on Sundays. They usually have a guest musician play a few songs to start out, and then they do a set or two themselves.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard of that,” Ollie said, trying to muscle his way in. “My roommates have been talking about wanting to come play some songs there. You must live in Skywalker House.”

  “Yeah, that’s the one,” Dusten said.

  “Why is it called that?” Joy asked.

  “The guys used to have a big cardboard cutout of Luke Skywalker in the front window, so people started calling us that,” Dusten said.

  “Well, I think it would be fun,” Joy said. She looked at Ollie with raised eyebrows, asking him if he wanted to go.

  “I’m up for it,” Ollie said.

  “Awesome. Starts at nine o’clock,” Dusten said.

  And so they were locked into it. Ollie felt a dark serendipity come over him, like a transaction had been made in the course of this chance meeting, and that it was something he couldn’t obstruct.

  The rest of the afternoon was rather uneventful, anticlimactic. For most of it Ollie and Joy sat on her living room couch, assuming their established position, her curls buried in his chest, arms wrapped around each other. They watched a cheesy movie they’d both seen before, one that didn’t matter much.

  Ollie knew there was a lot left for him to understand, but he swept all that worry aside because none of it mattered as much to him as what he held in his arms. Joy’s vivacious personality had a contagious effect on him; it made him forget the stresses and worries of life. It was something he had already grown to depend on, even after little more than a week of knowing her. It was something he was looking forward to feeling for a long time to come.

  But after dinner when he returned to his house, doubt began creeping in around the edges. Joy had promised her mom a Sunday evening phone call, so he excused himself. The worries that weighed him down before— the ones he forgot about while Joy was resting on his chest— began to trickle back into his mind. There was something about the thought of her spending time on the phone with her mother that unsettled him; echoes of Anne. He tried to flush it out, get rid of it, but his mind was once again flooded with concern. He had nothing against girls talking to their mother
s. It wasn’t that, but he shuddered with déjà vu. The last time he gave a girl space to talk to her mom on the phone was that last moment before his life got flipped upside down. Don’t worry. Joy is not Anne.

  He had to try to talk to Sparks. Maybe he would give up a little information this time. He grabbed the ugly Yankees hat and cringed as he slipped it onto his head. A few minutes later the bedroom door opened.

  “You’re right in what you’re thinking,” Sparks said.

  “And what’s that? That nobody taught you to knock?”

  “Dusten doesn’t really have anything to do with what set Joy off last night.”

  Ollie thought about it. “So. I know you’re not going to tell me what the deal is, but would you be willing to at least tell me when it’s going to come out in the open? This is killing me. What’s going on with Joy? She seems calm and happy now. Should I start asking her about what’s bothering her?”

  “I still wouldn’t. Not yet.”

  “I get this feeling that our relationship is going to be stuck in neutral until whatever it is does come out into the open. Just at least tell me when I’ll be okay to bring it up.”

  Sparks exhaled. “I would, but this is the point where everything starts to get sort of cloudy.”

  “Cloudy... meaning you can’t really see what’s ahead? Or cloudy meaning it’s going to start raining soon?” Ollie’s expression darkened, and his mind endured the hovering of Anne’s ghost.

  “Kinda both.”

  “I can see things getting a little rough, but why is it cloudy all of a sudden? Why is it so hard for you to see? I’m still on track, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty sure we’re still on track, but tonight is the big question mark. I’ll probably have a better feel after that about where things are going.”

  “Tonight? Why? What’s going on tonight? Something at Acoustic Night?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Oh, knock it off. Just tell me. You’re gonna mess me up so bad I won’t be able to act normal. Just tell me.”

  “At Acoustic Night at Skywalker House… I think it’s going to get kinda weird there.”

  “And you’re not going to tell me why, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Fine. Why don’t you just go? I shouldn’t have put this stupid thing on.” Ollie turned and chucked the ball cap on the computer desk. He wondered if he’d regret leaving it at home, but maybe it would be for the best. Sparks had the uncanny ability to frustrate him anyway. When he turned around to head out the door, Sparks had slipped away.

  ***

  By the time Ollie and Joy got to Skywalker House, the music had already begun. There was a group of three musicians there, two with acoustic guitars and one with a set of bongos. The trio was clearly having a great time playing to a crowd of about thirty people. Apart from the youngest of the three, whose harmonies were a little flat, they were well-rehearsed; they sounded pleasant.

  Ollie could tell Joy was having fun; her body moved in rhythm with every musical phrase.

  While the trio sang, he scanned the room for whatever Sparks had intimated was coming to ruin everything for him, but he couldn’t find any red flags. Joy’s old friend Dusten even walked into the room— with a pretty girl on his arm— and that didn’t affect her; not that Ollie expected it to.

  “We’re The Invisible Swordsmen,” the band’s frontman said after their last song. “Thanks for coming! And thanks for not throwing anything.” The crowd laughed.

  “They weren’t half bad,” Ollie said.

  “I thought they were great,” Joy said. “Their voices really blend together.”

  The next band started setting up— a pair of guys who lived at Skywalker House. “Hello,” one of them said, “we’re Huge Tracts of Land, and we’re gonna play you a few songs. Thanks for coming.”

  They played on for a little while, and even though Ollie continued to periodically glance around the room, he still couldn’t see anything that might set Joy off. She was hanging on every note while she gently rubbed Ollie’s hand with her thumb. He started to doubt whether or not her big crisis would happen. Maybe Sparks was wrong…

  But it finally happened. It was during the third song of the set. Joy’s hand clamped onto his hand tightly. He glanced at her face. It was rigid, and her eyes were fixed on the carpet directly in front of her. He glanced around the room, seeing nothing. Then she lifted her eyes again, peering at a guy that was standing in the kitchen doorway.

  Apparently he had just dropped in to hear a few songs. He just stood in the doorway, not realizing that his presence was creating a big stir. Ollie wanted to get up, walk over to him and ask who he was, but he decided against it. Memories of the attempted steal at home plate, and the subsequent punch to the ear flooded into his mind. Who punches a guy in the ear, anyway?

  Regret stole in, scolding him that he had been stupid to leave the Yankees hat at home. Joy looked up one last time to catch a peek at the mysterious guy, and then the grip she had on his hand tightened when she once again glued her eyes to the carpet.

  Ollie didn’t realize he was staring at the guy until it was too late. The guy must have felt his stare, because it didn’t take long for him to start looking around for the source. His eyes met Ollie’s for an instant before doing a double-take, fixing his eyes on the top of Joy’s head as she stared down at the floor. She must have felt it, because she looked up. And then she and the mysterious guy were connected.

  Her reaction was anxiety unclothed. That was easy to see, but the young man in the kitchen doorway harbored expressions that were a little more difficult to interpret. At one moment he seemed surprised; at another, confused. Overall, he seemed excited to see her. What does it mean? Who was he? How did they know each other? What made him happy to see her, and what made her so worried about him?

  Though there was a small sea of young bodies separating them during the last few songs, it grew more and more evident that he was going to approach them once the music was finished. Ollie observed powerlessly as Joy and the guy continuously stole peeks at one another while doing their best to avoid direct eye contact. When the guy watched the band, she watched him. When Joy was watching the band, the guy was watching her.

  After the last note was played, it was time to face the music.

  “I heard you were going to school here,” the boy said, approaching them but ignoring Ollie. “My mom said you showed up at church a few weeks ago… back home.”

  “Yeah,” Joy said.

  “How have you been?” the boy asked.

  “I’m good,” Joy said.

  Ollie looked at Joy like she was a riddle to be solved. It was clear she didn’t dislike the mystery guy, but his presence was also incredibly uncomfortable for her. He assumed they were more than friends, at least maybe at one time, because reconnecting with old friends wasn’t ever this unnerving. He also assumed that the boy had more closure with their previous relationship than Joy did, since he was obviously more comfortable than she was. But the worst of Ollie’s assumptions was this: somehow he just knew Joy was still drawn to him, though she was clearly scared of him. He cleared his throat. “I’m Ollie.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Joy said. “Where are my manners? Ollie, this is Scott.”

  “Hi,” Scott said, extending his hand.

  Ollie shook it with ambivalent resignation; he felt powerless. “So… I guess you guys knew each other when you were kids, then?” He hoped the word “kids” would remind both of them that whatever it was that used to exist between them was a long time ago.

  “When we were kids; right,” Scott said. “We knew each other in high school.”

  “It was good seeing you,” Joy said, pulling on Ollie’s arm. It was more than he needed for an excuse to get out of there. He stood, and so did Joy.

  “Yeah. It was good seeing you too,” Scott sa
id, his voice softening with tenderness. “Maybe we could catch up sometime?”

  “Maybe,” Joy said. She smiled politely. It wasn’t the same smile she used when she was genuinely happy, and Ollie wondered if Scott knew that. Probably. That’s what worried him.

  Chapter 19

  Ollie and Joy were halfway to her house before she finally broke the tension and let the words spill. By that time she was clearly worked up, even more so than the night before.

  “Why didn’t Dusten tell me he was roommates with Scott?” She sounded perturbed.

  Ollie didn’t have an answer for that. He had nothing interesting to say. He was completely lost for words and lost for emotion; numb. Lost.

  In a few more steps, she had tightened her grip on his hand. When she had first seen Scott her grip had conveyed anxiety. This time it was a plea, asking him not to let her go. She buried her head into his chest and let go of his hand so that he could wrap his arm around her as they walked.

  “He was my boyfriend in high school.”

  Ollie felt like he’d been stabbed, but he soldiered on. “I assumed it was something like that.” He paused, breathing, hoping she couldn’t feel his heart racing. “I’m guessing he was the one to break up with you? I mean, bumping into him seemed a lot harder on you than it was on him.” The words just came out. Sure, he was wondering that, but giving voice to the worry made him feel like he was being insensitive. What he needed to do, and he knew it, was to let her tell her story. He couldn’t help himself.

  “No, that’s not true. I broke up with him.” Her voice was choked. “We still hadn’t broken up after I moved to Missouri. After I was there for about a month, I broke things off.”

  She sounded to Ollie like she was confessing something, not relating the events of a story. “So you didn’t like the long distance relationship thing. That’s never easy.”

  “Yes, in a way, but mostly… it was just the best thing to do at the time. I felt like I was going to hold him back from… from his life, if I didn’t cut things off. It was the best thing for him.”