Love Inc.

by Yvonne Collins

  ‘You’re helping your mom with her business and you seem to like it. Plus you’re good at graphic design.’

  She clicks her mouse and my specs disappear. Under my picture, another box slides into place. ‘Since I couldn’t use real clients, my information is still a bit sketchy on the first two guys. If you like them, I’ll call and go through the survey. According to my program, Option One is sixty-eight percent compatible, Option Two is seventy-seven percent, and Option Three is ninety-two percent. Since no one’s a perfect match, the last guy’s obviously a very lucky find.’

  ‘Can’t we proceed directly to Mr Ninety-two?’

  ‘Nope,’ she says, grinning. ‘I’m taking you through my entire process.’

  It’s nice to see Kali from a client’s perspective. She’s a positive force, a zealot for love – or at least for the initial hookup.

  Option One’s photo slides into view. He’s attractive, with dark hair and eyes and cocoa skin that suggests we might have more in common than his love of pop-culture blogging.

  ‘Is he an MOT?’ I ask Kali.

  ‘A half-and-halfer, like you. I figured he’d relate to the pressure you’ve been under from your grandparents.’

  I’m becoming cautiously optimistic about this process. ‘OK, who’s next?’

  Kali advances to Option Two, and a familiar blond giant comes into view: Andrew.

  ‘I’ve done some digging,’ Kali explains. ‘You two like a lot of the same bands and movies and the same subjects at school. And you already know he’s adorable.’

  I point to the screen. ‘It says here he has an interest in extreme sports. What if he wants to go hang gliding on our first date? Have I mentioned my fear of heights?’ I shake my head. ‘No. Show me what’s behind door number three.’

  She hesitates for a moment. ‘You’re keeping an open mind, right?’

  Uh-oh. ‘He’s part chimpanzee or something, isn’t he?’

  ‘Z, they all are. Accepting that will help you move on.’

  She clicks, and the photo slides into view. It’s Brody. Brody!

  ‘This is a joke, right?’

  ‘Ninety-two per cent compatible,’ she says.

  ‘That’s impossible. We have nothing in common. Except you.’

  She counts off our mutual interests on her fingers. ‘You read the same magazines, like the same Web sites, watch the same movies – over and over, I might add. Believe it or not, he even likes to cook.’

  ‘Kal, you told me to be honest, so I have to say that your brother is a jerk. Feel free to dis any of my family members in return. You’ve got plenty of ammo.’

  She just laughs. ‘You and Brody got off on the wrong foot. Actually, if you think back to the first time you met, he was flirting with you.’

  ‘Flirting! He made fun of my hair.’

  ‘Like I said, flirting. You’d know that if your hormones hadn’t been knocked off-line by Eric.’

  ‘Brody is rude to me ninety-two percent of the time.’

  ‘He was thrown by our slam on Eric, that’s all. I know my brother’s a pain in the butt, Z, but he’s also a really good guy. We’ve been through a lot together and he’s always been there for me.’ She stares at the screen as an excuse not to look at me. ‘Remember what he said about my running away with the band? That wasn’t the first time I took off, but it’s the only time Mom knows about because Brody always came after me. I mean it when I say he’s put up with a lot. Because he went through everything I did with Mom, and had to help me, too.’

  Her eyes well up, and this time I take her hand and ask, ‘Things are better now, right?’

  Nodding, she pulls a napkin out of her bag and wipes her eyes, blurring the name of another of her prospects. ‘Partly because of you and Syd, and Love, Inc.’

  I try out my new term. ‘We’re framily now – friends and family.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she says, smiling. ‘I like that. But Brody deserves a nice girl like you. And in case you haven’t noticed, he’s funny, smart, and cute.’

  That may be so, but he doesn’t seem like the cherishing type, and he certainly doesn’t accept me for who I am. Nani’s advice might be corny but at least it’s a starting point. ‘I don’t know, Kali. Isn’t he seeing someone?’

  ‘Brody dates a lot, but it’s never serious,’ she says. ‘He had a girlfriend in ninth grade, but she moved away and that was really hard on him. He’s played the field ever since.’

  ‘What makes you think he’s ready to get serious now?’

  ‘I know my brother,’ she says. ‘Ultimately, he’s the settling-down type. And did I mention a ninety-two percent probability of success? How can you settle for less?’

  ‘Easy. Seventy-seven is my lucky number.’

  She sighs, but the smile is back almost instantly. ‘Well, the customer’s always right. And Andrew is going to be very happy.’

  ‘Hey, Kali? Thanks.’

  She shrugs. ‘We’re framily. I’d do anything for you. In fact, I’ve already got your first date planned.’

  She slaps two tickets in front of me for a balloon ride – the ones Stacey gave us as a bonus.

  ‘No way,’ I say. ‘I am not going airborne for any guy.’

  ‘Gee, who was just bragging about pushing boundaries in group?’ Kali says, pretending to think. ‘Right. That would be you.’

  I slide the tickets back to her and cross my arms. Walking my talk can still mean keeping my feet on the ground.

  The pilot pulls on the handle. There’s a sudden whoosh! as the two burners ignite, filling the enormous purple-and-yellow balloon with enough hot air to send our little basket up, up, up, to cruising altitude, four thousand feet over Austin.

  I scream. A few times. They sort of run together in a continuous shriek. Luckily, one of the other passengers – an eighteen-year-old Canadian girl – shrieks even louder. Well, that’s not so lucky for Andrew or the pilot, or even the girl’s best friend. But it makes me feel better.

  With five people, a fire extinguisher, and four fuel tanks, the four-by-five foot basket is a bit cramped.

  The pilot cuts the gas, and all is quiet aboard our little craft.

  ‘Zahra,’ Andrew says gently, ‘you should try facing out. The view is fantastic. I can already see the Enchanted Rock.’

  From the moment the ground crew released our drop line, I’ve faced Andrew’s chest. Since he’s so tall, it’s been quite an effective barrier between me and my fear of looking down. But I’ve committed to pushing myself out of my safety zone today, and that means turning – slowly and cautiously – until I’m staring out at the horizon.

  ‘Wow.’ To my right, Austin is spread out below, its buildings bathed in a soft golden light against the evening sky. ‘There’s the Capitol dome! And the UT tower!’

  Lake Austin looks beautiful, shimmering in shades of blue and pink. The traffic over the bridges is congested, and I think about Dad driving home.

  ‘I told you the view was worth it,’ Andrew says, pulling my fuzzy blue hat snugly down on my head and wrapping his arms around me. The brochure wasn’t kidding when it said it was a lot cooler up here than it is on the ground.

  I lean back against Andrew’s puffy down jacket and smile. It’s such a strange, wonderful feeling to be soaring above the earth in a little basket. This is an oasis of tranquility over a bustling city.

  We lose a little altitude, and once again the pilot fills the balloon. As we drift northwest, away from the city, I catch a glimpse of Lake Travis and the small sprawl of houses that makes up Anderson Mill, just to the right.

  Tracking along the Pedernales River, we pass ranches and reserves, and in no time we reach Fredericksburg and the Enchanted Rock park. The pilot brings the balloon down so we can admire the enormous rock face, nestled among the trees and glowing deep red like a hot coal in the last of the day’s sunlight.

  I lean over and pull the video camera I borrowed from Syd out of my backpack. Staring at the screen, I zoom in on the rock, where a few h
ikers have stopped to wave at us. I wave back and pan the camera to catch a flock of grackles silhouetted against the rosy sky. The flock turns and flies toward us, and I track them with the camera.

  ‘Aren’t those birds getting a little too close?’ I ask, lowering the camera.

  The pilot is already trying to change course, but the birds are coming fast and steady. Cursing as he ignites the burners, he explains that we’re going to have to climb. ‘Hang on, everybody,’ he says. ‘It’s gonna get a little windy.’

  The Canadian girl lets out a scream as the first current hits us and the basket pitches and sways. Andrew puts one gloved hand on the edge and keeps the other firmly wrapped around me. I try hard not to panic when the basket pitches again and tips a little toward the ground. The Canadian girl is losing it. ‘I want out!’ she shouts, lunging to the other side, making the basket wobble even more.

  ‘Keep her calm!’ the pilot snaps, as he works to steady the craft.

  Instinctively, I yank on the girl’s hand and pull her to the floor of the basket with me, where she can’t see the horizon. Since there’s only room for two people to be down here, Andrew stands, resting a hand on my shoulder.

  ‘This will be over before you know it,’ I tell the girl. ‘It’s going to be OK.’

  The basket wobbles again, and she screams. ‘We’re going to die!’

  ‘We’re not going to die,’ I say, glancing up at Andrew with a silent, ‘Are we?’

  ‘Not today,’ he says. His blue eyes are an ocean of calm, as if he’s stared death in the face before and knows this isn’t it. That calm must come from experience with even more extreme sports.

  ‘Get her to focus on her breathing,’ he says. ‘In … out …’

  I do as he says, breathing in through my nose for two counts, and out through my mouth, encouraging the girl to do the same.

  ‘You’re doing great,’ I tell the girl, already feeling much calmer myself.

  A few minutes later, Andrew tells me that we’re clear of the grackles and coming down for a landing. The pilot radioed his ground crew, and they’re going to pick us up near Fredericksburg.

  The landing is surprisingly gentle. The girl has stopped crying, but it takes her friend and the pilot to get her out of the basket. My legs have turned to rubber too, but Andrew helps me upright and half carries me into the field, where we’re surrounded by curious cattle. The minute he lets go of me, I sit down in the grass. It still feels like the world is shifting under me.

  We’re quiet for a moment, then Andrew says, ‘You have to admit, it was fun up to a point.’

  ‘And then it wasn’t,’ I say. I won’t be ballooning again anytime soon, but I’m still glad I went. It feels good to know I faced one of my biggest fears and survived.

  Andrew looks down at me and laughs. ‘You’re keeping your feet firmly on the ground from now on, aren’t you?’

  A cow bellows behind us, and I start laughing too.

  ‘Yup,’ I say. ‘Till the cows come home.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kali arrives at the Recipe Box just after it opens, to help me set up for the healthy living promotion, and I fill her in on my date with Andrew.

  ‘Oh my God, Z!’ she says, when I finish the story about the balloon. ‘Who needs Dieter’s stupid ropes course? That’s for amateurs. You guys must have been feeling pretty pumped after that.’

  Actually, the rest of the night was quite a contrast to the beginning. If you break it down, it was a perfect date from the moment we arrived at my favorite Italian restaurant to the moment Andrew walked me to Dad’s door. Like Kali said, we have a lot in common. He laughed at my jokes, I laughed at his, and we never ran out of things to say. He’s cute – really cute – but when he kissed me good night, I didn’t feel any spark, which surprised me after all we’d been through earlier. Kali must be right about my hormones being off-line. Eric may have wrecked me permanently. ‘I liked him,’ I sum up as I start putting apple-maple crunch squares on the serving platters René provided. ‘And he’s even higher than seventy-seven on the compatibility scale. If he asks me out again, I’ll go.’

  ‘But …?’

  ‘But nothing.’ There’s nothing negative to say.

  Kali sighs. ‘There was no magic.’

  ‘Not really,’ I admit. ‘At least, not yet. I’m sorry, Kali.’

  ‘Don’t be.’ She arranges her own platter of squares. ‘Your numbers were solid, but there’s no accounting for chemistry. You’ll give him another try, though, right? Maybe you need to kiss him again to shock your hormones back to life.’

  Someone behind us says, ‘I’m glad to hear you two discussing such serious matters.’

  Kali gives a little shriek. Dieter is standing at the register wearing dark jeans, a fitted turtleneck sweater, and a black leather jacket.

  ‘Dieter,’ Kali says. ‘Hi. What a nice surprise to see you. On a Saturday.’

  ‘Because Thursday’s our day, isn’t it?’ He lifts a motorcycle helmet off the counter and retrieves three envelopes from beneath it. ‘Here are your letters of warning. I’ll let you deliver Sydney’s for me.’

  ‘Our what?’ Kali asks.

  ‘You’re officially out of rope, ladies – no pun intended. Full attendance from now on, or I’ll start making house calls. Understood?’

  ‘It’s not like we skipped a real session,’ Kali says.

  ‘A session is a session no matter where it takes place,’ Dieter says.

  He waits till we nod before tucking the helmet under his arm and heading for the door. ‘Thanks for this, René,’ he calls, waving a book I recognise: Romantic Meals for Lovers.

  Outside, Dieter packs his book in a black box mounted on the rear of a gleaming motorcycle. Climbing aboard, he guns the engine a few times, then takes off.

  ‘How do you know Dieter, René?’ I ask.

  ‘We went to college together,’ he says.

  ‘I bet he was all work and no play,’ Kali says.

  René laughs. ‘Quite the opposite. He got suspended for pulling a prank on the dean.’

  ‘A prank? Dieter?’ I say.

  ‘All I remember is it involved the college mascot, a wheelbarrow, and a lot of fake blood on the dean’s new carpet,’ René says. ‘It was a short suspension, but for some reason, Dieter didn’t come back until after I’d graduated. I heard he turned into a model student, but never saw him again until today. I was surprised to find him waiting when I got here.’

  Taking one of my squares, René changes the subject. ‘You’ve hit the bull’s-eye this time, Zahra. And I’ll bet whatever you have in mind for next week’s Christmas baking promo is every bit as good. I had your recipe professionally printed, and we’ll display the cards in some old recipe boxes. I’ll get them from the back room, since I have to check on Sherman anyway.’

  ‘Sherman?’ I ask.

  Smiling mysteriously, he heads into the back, reappearing a few minutes later carrying a tiny puppy with fur the color of straw, and big, worried-looking eyes. ‘Meet Sherman,’ René says.

  Kali beats me to the puppy. ‘My mother would love him,’ she says. Then she looks at me. ‘My mother would love him.’

  She’s not talking about the dog anymore. ‘We’ve discussed this,’ I say, after René takes Sherman outside. ‘René’s off-limits.’

  We’re still arguing about it when Syd arrives a few minutes later. Banksy picks up Sherman’s scent immediately and starts sniffing around excitedly.

  ‘Is he feeling better?’ I ask, stooping for my face lick. What once seemed disgusting has become a ritual.

  ‘I think so,’ she says. ‘But I left him at home last night when I went out with Rambo. We hit Madison Manson’s favorite café, and there she was, with her brother and some friends. I got Rambo and Madison talking, and faded out of the picture.’

  ‘Another match for Love, Inc.,’ Kali says. ‘I trolled by your dad’s office after that, Z,’ Syd says. ‘I’ve been doing some work in the area.’
<
br />   By work, she means tagging. Since Dad’s office is a storefront, you can see most of it from the sidewalk. ‘And …?’

  ‘As far as I can tell, he’s working alone,’ she says. ‘At around nine, he went over to Mama Fu’s and sat by himself with a double order of egg rolls. For what it’s worth, he looked like a guy who misses his wife.’

  ‘Mama Fu’s egg rolls are Mom’s favorite,’ I say. ‘Thanks for checking.’

  Kali passes Syd her envelope. ‘Dieter stopped by, and it wasn’t a social visit.’

  ‘Crap,’ Syd says, after opening it.

  Coming back into the store, René lets Banksy take a good sniff at Sherman before putting the puppy on the floor. The big dog bows in an invitation to play, and then they’re off, tearing around the displays, with Syd in pursuit.

  The next person through the door is Brody. He’s wearing khakis and a nice shirt. ‘Mom sent me to pick you up, Kal,’ he says. ‘We’ve got a reservation at Chez Zee in twenty minutes.’

  ‘Try the gingerbread pancakes,’ René suggests. ‘Perfection.’

  ‘That’s my mom’s favorite, too,’ Kali says, shooting me a look. I’m quickly losing the battle to save René from Kali. She tails him around the store, peppering him with questions.

  ‘Gee, no rush, Kal,’ Brody says, leaning against the counter and helping himself to one of my squares. He chews and swallows without the usual facial contortions. ‘Much better than your gut grenades.’

  ‘So you’re talking to me now?’ I ask. ‘The last time I saw you, you booted me out of the trailer.’

  ‘You were leaving anyway, drama queen.’ He leans against the counter, all mocking white teeth and evil green eyes.

  ‘There are tread marks on my butt.’

  ‘Really? Let me see.’

  He cranes for a better view, and I feel an odd stirring sensation inside. It’s as if someone replaced the batteries in my stalled hormones. I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. Kali should never have planted her stupid idea in my head.

  ‘Rude,’ I say, to cover my confusion.

  ‘Again with the harsh tone,’ Brody says. ‘Nice way to talk to the person who saved your rep as a baker. Because of my good advice, none of your customers will require hospitalisation today.’