Little Matchmakers

by Jennifer Greene

  “I can drive the tractor—” Tucker started to say.

  “No, you won’t. The less jostling on that head the better. And I know, I’m not the boss here. But I’m the boss until you’re home safe. So don’t try arguing with me on this.”

  “Were we arguing?” Tucker asked the boys.

  “I wasn’t arguing,” Will swore. “Were you arguing?” he asked Pete.

  “No. Cross my heart and hope to die. I wasn’t arguing,” Peter said, and then with a beaming smile for his mother, added, “So you can relax, Mom. No one’s arguing.”

  Relax? The three of them were looking at her like goons. Cloned goons. Letting males of any age vote together was always a mistake.

  Damnation if she didn’t love them all.

  But the eldest… Tucker was becoming a scary problem. She had to figure it out. Who they were together. Who she was with him. Who he was with her. If there was really anything there—besides the hopeless, helpless desire to be with him.

  Life wasn’t a love song, even if her heart kept crooning that Love-Tucker tune. The kids would be back in school all too soon. Their whole reason to connect would disappear. What they had in common was kids and propinquity. He’d realize soon enough that she wouldn’t fit in his life.

  She was used to it. She’d never really fit anywhere. She didn’t expect to believe her life had suddenly turned into a fairy tale now.

  Chapter Eleven

  The minute Pete turned off his bedroom light, Garnet sprinted for the bathroom.

  They’d gotten Tucker back to his place, had a chance to look at his head under real light and far more sanitary conditions. Then she’d made Will call his uncle, Ike—the one who was a doctor. She’d made food for the group, then hustled Pete home, took care of her business, and finally, finally had a few moments to herself.

  In the house, in her life, everywhere, she loved natural, earthy colors…but her bathroom was a downright feminine pink. She flipped on the faucets, stripped down and heaped coconut bath salts into the water. By the time the tub was filled, she’d lit two vanilla candles, poured herself a glass of Shiraz and turned out the light. She took one sip of wine, then slid into the water, leaned her head back against a thick towel and closed her eyes. Okay. She’d had a rattling day, and Tucker had pushed every unsettled button she’d ever had. But she could relax now. She’d shake it off, sleep it off, and face tomorrow—and Tucker—with a clear head.

  That thought had just surfaced when her cell buzzed.

  Her eyes popped open. She lost her phone several times a day, could probably lose herself in a closet with one door, so why did she have to pick tonight to be responsible with her cell? But there it was, on the pink carpet, next to her robe. She lifted a soaking hand to grab it.

  She saw Tucker’s name on the screen, and immediately flipped it open.

  The complications he’d created for her, with that kiss, with making love, with everything to do with Tucker—none of that mattered. He’d been hurt. Which was of course why she’d kept the phone close. And for the same reason, she didn’t waste time on a greeting.

  “Your head’s killing you? You need me to come and pick up Will, or take you to the doctor? I was hoping your brother was there by now, but—”

  “I called Ike and canceled him. My head’s fine. It’s just a lump. And I’m sorry to call so late, but I was hoping both our boys would be asleep. I needed to talk to you about penises.”

  “Oh. Of course.” She hoped her tone was nonchalant, but she surged up from the water to reach for her glass of wine, took two quick swallows. “I’m so glad you felt you could come to me. Not that I’ve ever taught sex ed, and frankly, not having that body part myself, I would have assumed you’d know more than me. But I swear, I’ll do my best to answer any question—”

  He interrupted with a burst of low, throaty laughter. “I knew you’d make this fun.”

  Her heart was so foolhardy. His laughter made her flush from pleasure from the inside out. “Well, it does seem an unusual topic of conversation for eleven at night, but hey…”

  “I can’t tell you what I was doing with your son this afternoon, because it’s his secret to tell. But while I had him to myself, he came through with a concern he wanted to discuss. His penis. He didn’t want to show me how concerned, he just wanted me to tell him what size a ‘normal’ penis was.”

  Okay. She supposed she’d have to get serious. “You know, I’ve tried to talk to him about sexual issues since he was little. Not making a big deal out of it. But trying to respond to things he was seeing in life, or hearing on TV or from kids, whatever. I could have sworn—”

  “Garnet, he said he talked to you about ‘stuff like that.’ This was just different. Because you’re female. And I don’t think there’s a guy born who doesn’t start worrying about size starting way before puberty.”

  She leaned back in the water, relaxing again. “So you think I should talk to him?”

  “Nope. I just needed to let you know the conversation happened. It was just a straight-up conversational thing. No weirdness. It’s just…I wouldn’t want someone talking to my kid without letting me know.”

  “I appreciate the heads-up.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “Oops. I didn’t mean to phrase it quite that way.”

  He’d already let loose another burst of a chuckle. “Two more quick things.”

  “Are they as interesting as the first subject?”

  “Not exactly. The first is that…well, you need to look on the floor in your linen closet.”

  “Huh?”

  “Just when you can.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s just say you’ll find something unexpected there. And the last reason I was calling was about our next competition.”

  “The barbecue. Which team can make the best burger.”

  “Yes. It’s a great idea—but I just need to change a couple of details. Will’s mother called. Angie insists she wants him for the ten days starting around the Fourth of July. He doesn’t want to go, but she’s entitled to that time in the summer, and she claims it’s the only space she has.”

  “That’s okay,” Garnet assured him. “Things like that have to come first.”

  “At least by the law they do. At the moment, Will’s giving me no end of grief. And the tough part is when he comes back. He’ll be a bear. He always is for the first four or five days, until he finally relaxes and turns into my kid again.”

  Oh, man. She knew what that was like. Her Pete didn’t have a second parent in the picture, but when he went to stay with her parents, he came back wound up like a stressed-out top. Still, she didn’t offer Tucker empathy. From penises to difficult family issues, they were already on scary ground.

  “Anyway,” he said, “the point is that I have to change the date of our burger competition. The third Sunday in July is the first day that I don’t have groups here—if you could fit in that time.”

  “I’m okay then.” She didn’t have a calendar in front of her, and Sundays were busy in the shop, but she knew she could fit it in. Sally, especially, wanted all the hours Garnet could give her.

  “Okay. Only one small detail I have to mention about that date. It seems Will told Ike and Rosemary all about our burger grill-off competition. I know you’ve met them both, but you may not have realized how nosy, intrusive and interfering they are. Which is to say that they called the parents. Now the whole family have elected themselves judges for the burger competition.” He cleared his throat, waited. “Garnet? You there? If you don’t want to turn this into a family circus, I can call off the extras. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m not worried.” She was just thinking. As soon as he mentioned his family, she had a clutch-up. They weren’t old Charleston blood, like her clan, but he came from all those heaps of renowned surgeons a
nd big money and what some in the South called American Royalty under the covers. The kind of people where she invariably didn’t fit in.

  “I was thinking we could move the contest to my place—and I’d spring for all the grocery expenses, because the extra eaters are on my side. And if that doesn’t work for you, it’s fine. This has always been about our boys, not outsiders—”

  “No, no. It’s fine.” She gulped. It wouldn’t be fine, she was fairly certain. But maybe the change in plans was best. Maybe even perfect. Tucker would see that she didn’t fit in. That she was a stranger in that kind of setting. His brother and sister had seemed okay on first meeting, but adding his parents to the mix… She gulped again. “A great idea,” she said briskly.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yup.”

  “You don’t sound so sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Just watching TV in the living room.”

  “I’ll be darned. I never heard a TV in the background. In fact, I thought I heard the splash of water. You wouldn’t be in the tub, would you?”

  “Tucker, I’m going to hang up now. You can’t just talk about parents and puberty issues and then suddenly just…start trouble.”

  “So you are in the tub. With the lights off?”

  “Tucker! Stop putting pictures in my head!”

  “I’m not putting pictures in your head. That’s a terribly unfair accusation. I was putting pictures in my head. Of you in a nice, deep tub. Hot water. Scented with some great smell. Not flowers. Some other scent. Maybe you lit a couple of candles so you could turn out the lights and really relax. Maybe a beer?”

  “Wine,” she said, and then stopped herself. “That’s it! I mean it! I’m hanging up right this instant!”

  “Me, too. But I’ll be thinking about you. All night. Leave your window open.”

  “My window?”

  “The mountain. She’ll be whispering to you tonight. I guarantee it.”

  She had to swallow hard before hanging up. Then she flicked the faucet to start draining the tub and stood up in a sloosh of water. She pinched out the candles, grabbed a towel, snapped on the overhead. So much for relaxing. Tucker had made sure that was going to be completely impossible.

  She dried off a little, but was too impatient to finish the job, so she just wrapped the thick towel around her and hustled down the hall to the linen closet. The door was supposed to be closed, but since she never remembered to close drawers and doors, it was no surprise to find it slightly ajar. She pulled it open, saw the usual shelves, all the sheets, the towels, the spare blankets, the top shelf of kitchen gadgets her mom kept giving her. No surprises, until she glanced down.

  The cat that wasn’t hers was curled up on a pale teal blanket, right in the center. She made a sound, not a purr, but more like a welcoming yodel. Four of them. Four. Baby kittens were attached to her, and the cat that wasn’t hers looked up as if expecting Garnet to share and appreciate her wonder.

  Garnet sank to the floor, still holding the towel, and just shook her head. “You think I should be happy for you? Is that your story?”

  The cat closed her eyes when Garnet accidentally rubbed between her ears.

  “We’ll be having the birth control talk before this can happen again,” Garnet said sternly. “And you know that was my best blanket. Notice how I used the past tense?”

  The cat lifted her chin when Garnet accidentally brushed a thumb under her throat. The kittens looked like rats…but even so, their coloring was downright pretty—silver-gray and white, so unlike their homely mama.

  The mama cat reminded her a little of herself…which made her think of her own offspring. She stood up, tied the towel more securely and tiptoed into Petie’s room.

  He was sleeping in his usual way, knees tucked up, the sheet just so around his neck. Not that she was prejudiced, but he was probably the cutest kid ever born—even when he was being annoying. And the loot Garnet found in his closet was extremely annoying. A water dish. Gourmet cat food. And on the other side of the closet, a litter box.

  Oh, yeah. Petie knew about the mama cat, all right. And had to conspire with someone to get those supplies, because he had no way to get to a store by himself. She even suspicioned who would have been his coconspirator. Either of the women who worked for her would do about anything for her son…but they weren’t good secret keepers.

  It had to be Tucker who’d helped. Tucker who had conspired against her. Tucker who’d gone behind her back.

  Dagnabbit. It was hard to ignore the truth when the evidence was all over the place.

  She was in love with that man.

  But how could she be sure that meant they could make a life together? She just couldn’t see how it could possibly end well.

  * * *

  Garnet hadn’t seen Will since he’d visited his mother, but when Tucker dropped him off it was the day of their burger competition. She only had to take one look to see what Tucker had been talking about. Will loped into the house with his head down and his expression conveying boredom and gloom. If there were any lights turned on in his upstairs, she sure couldn’t see them.

  “Did you have a good time in Atlanta with your mom?” she asked.

  “Fine.”

  He’d said “fine” as if it were a four-letter word, so Garnet abruptly changed tactics. “You ready to beat the pants off Pete and your dad?”

  “Not really. I don’t cook. I never cooked.”

  “This isn’t like cooking, exactly. I have a plan,” she said, using Tucker’s famous words in Tucker’s conspirator tone of voice. “First, we take scissors outside… ”

  He trudged outside. He held the basket she asked him to. She circled the raised garden beds, ducked under shade slats, wandered under the full sun, snipping a variety of herbs, explaining what each one was, and how they were going to make their burgers differently than anything Pete and his dad could conceivably come up with.

  Will responded when she asked a question. Otherwise, it’d take a stethoscope to find out if his heart was beating. The animated, high-energy kid she’d come to know was looking around, staring at clouds, shuffling his feet, connecting with nothing—and for sure, not with her. He didn’t want to do anything. Didn’t want to talk. His head was slumped so low he walked into things, knocked things over. The more graceless he was, the more bumbling he got.

  “You know,” she said, “the next part of making our secret burgers is going to take you. I can’t do it. I need some brawn. Your kind of brawn. But first… You haven’t been here in a while. We had sort of a catastrophe happen around here.”

  He didn’t ask what, just followed her. She set the basket of herbs in the kitchen, took him down the east hall to the linen closet outside Petie’s room, sighed—heavily and loudly—and then opened the door.

  He took one look, and the sullen expression disappeared. “Oh, my God, oh, my God,” he said, and then, stricken, added, “Don’t tell my dad I said ‘oh, my God,’ okay?”

  She made the old-as-time gesture of zipping her mouth closed and watched Will drop to the floor with a thud, and that was the end of the bad mood.

  The kittens weren’t a full three weeks old yet—not old enough to be true hellions. But they’d opened their eyes, and their claws were sharper than tiny razors, and they were starting to get curious.

  “When they’re nursing like this, you don’t want to pull them away from her,” she told Will. “But if you pet the mama first, then touch each of the kittens equally…she’ll be fine with your being here. She just needs to trust that you’ll be gentle.”

  “I’ll be way gentle. I’ll be awesome gentle. I’ll be perfect gentle.”

  “I never doubted that for a minute.” She crouched next to him for a few minutes, thinking he’d get
tired of the kittens after a while.

  He didn’t. He looked clearly prepared to camp on the floor indefinitely.

  And her floor was distinctly dusty.

  She waited. Then waited some more. Then she thought about payback for all the bad, bad things Tucker had done to her. “We need to start on our burger prep, Will.”

  “It can wait a while, can’t it?”

  They’d already waited a good while. “Here’s the thing,” she said gently. “You’re going to have lots of time with the kittens pretty soon.”

  “But we’re going to my house in a few minutes.”

  “I know that. But it won’t be long before their mom weans them, and then, if you wanted, I was going to give you a couple.”

  “Me? You were going to give me two kittens? You mean, I can have two kittens?!” Will looked at her with abject adoration.

  “Oh, yes. I think you’ll make a perfect caretaker. You’re responsible. And you’re respectful. I can’t think of a single good reason why your dad would say no.” But she subtly tried to corral him toward the kitchen again.

  “Right now, though, we need to make those burgers. In fact, when we win the competition, I think it’d be a great time to mention the kittens to your dad.”

  “You’re smart, Mrs. G.”

  “You are, too. We both know how to outwit parents sometimes, don’t we?”

  “Yeah.” He trudged after her into the kitchen, only tripping once—on a piece of air—and knocking down nothing more breakable than a stack of napkins. “What’s the mama cat’s name?”

  “She has no name.”

  “But she’s yours.”

  “Well, that seems to be what she’s decided. I think that’s what cats do. Pick the people they want to love. And if you respect that, they’ll likely love you heaps.”

  “You’re sure Pete won’t mind if you give me a couple?”