Perfect Match

by Fern Michaels

Beth, her person half in the refrigerator and half out, started to babble about the cornucopia and Luke Olsen, to both men’s dismay. “He’s out there watching the house,” she said, whirling around, a bowl of cranberry sauce in her hands.

  Gracie chirped up. “I think you two should get dressed and take Giz for a walk around the neighborhood to see what you can see. I doubt Olsen is on this block, and I think he’s probably got a pair of binoculars. Giz will know. Just keep him on the leash and let him go where he wants to go.”

  “And you didn’t wake us!” Jim Mack exploded.

  John Rossmon threw his hands in the air, an expression of disbelief on his face.

  “Listen, you two,” Beth said, her voice fierce. “Think about it. A delivery van brought the fruit basket. A young girl rang the bell. It wasn’t Luke Olsen. What would you have done, sweated the poor thing, grilled her, scared her out of her wits and ruined her whole day? All she did was deliver a basket of fruit that Gracie immediately threw in the trash. You were both tired, you drove all night and needed the sleep. Listen to me. There-was-nothing-you-could-have-done-even-if-you-were-standing-right-in-the-doorway.”

  Jim and John both sheepishly conceded Beth’s point.

  “I have an idea. I still have the blueprints Luke drew up when he did the work on this house. I have no idea if his scent would still be on them, or even if Giz can still pick up on it if it is. I think it’s worth a try. Let me fetch them. They’re out in the garage, and it was Luke’s idea to wrap them in a plastic sleeve to preserve them, as he put it. I’ve never looked at them from the day I put them out there on the shelf.” She was gone in an instant and returned minutes later, with a dusty, plastic cylinder in her hands. She ran into the laundry room and cleaned and dried it off.

  “Come here, Giz!” Beth called. “Gracie, tell him what he has to do.”

  Gracie laughed. “You don’t tell Giz, he tells you. He already knows what’s going on. If Luke Olsen is out there, he’ll find him.”

  They all watched as Beth unrolled the blueprints and spread them out on the kitchen floor. They continued to watch as Giz pawed the yellowing paper with all its blue lines and shadings. He sniffed every corner, then pawed the paper a second time. When he looked up at Gracie, he let loose with three sharp barks.

  “He’s got it, guys. He’s the alpha, so let him do his thing.” Gracie bent over to hug the big dog and praise him. He barked again. Giz loved hugs and praise.

  “Second fiddle to a dog,” Jim Mack groused.

  “This isn’t just any dog, Jim. Giz is a special dog. I’ll tell you all about him on our walk,” John said as he tickled Giz between his ears. The big dog literally purred his pleasure.

  Beth rolled up the blueprints and inserted them back into the plastic sleeve, which she returned to the garage. Then she went into the laundry room and scrubbed her hands until they turned beet red.

  “Enough already, Beth! You scrubbed him away. Giz and the guys are on it. We sit back and wait now.”

  “Gracie, tell me the truth. Do you really think Luke Olsen would . . . would hurt me?”

  Gracie drew in a sharp breath. “I wish I had the answer, Beth. I don’t. I have personal ideas and opinions, but how much weight they hold, I have no clue. What I do know is what I read—that stalkers start out one way, then, when rebuffed, switch gears. They want what they want. They’re delusional. Like those two hearts on the card in the fruit basket. And like the card you said was on the flowers he sent. He thinks you want him as much as he wants you. He has convinced himself of that. It’s not you I am worried about at this moment, it’s John. And I admit, I could be wrong. Luke hasn’t taken that next step, at least I don’t think he has, where he has to get rid of the person he sees standing between you and him, but I think he’s thinking about it now. I could be really off base here, but I don’t think so. Mr. Mack pretty much verified what I’ve just said. Any good profiler will agree. I think.”

  All the color left Beth’s face. “I’d just up and die if anything happened to John. Just plain old up and die,” Beth cried.

  “Nothing is going to happen to John. He’s a big guy, he’s a marine. That alone should comfort you. I changed my mind about Giz. I’m going to let you take him back with you. That dog is a one-man army. The thing is, you’re all going to have to stay together until we get a handle on el jerko and formulate a plan of some kind. That means no more putzing around on your part, Beth. Everything out in the open. No more secrets, and you can forget that part about actually believing you are Superwoman. Either you give me your word right now, this very minute, or I’m outta here. I mean it, Beth.” Gracie was relieved to see the color returning to Beth’s cheeks.

  “Okay, Gracie. After dinner, when the guys clean up, you and I will go upstairs and talk. Are you serious about my taking Giz back with me?”

  “As a heart attack,” Gracie shot back.

  Beth threw her arms around Gracie and hugged her tight. “You’re the best friend in the whole world. Even better than Arabella.”

  Gracie snorted. “Arabella was a figment of your imagination, a pretend friend when you were five years old.”

  “Yeah, well, she was my only playmate back then. I loved her. You’re flesh and blood, and I love you more. Jake had a make-believe friend, too. He’ll never admit it, but I remember. His name was Skid, and Jake blamed him for everything when he got himself into trouble, which was about every other day. And he’d say Arabella was a witness. It all made our parents crazy. Enough of this nonsense. We need to get back to the kitchen to help Moose.”

  “Gravy’s made,” Moose announced proudly. “How do the pies look?” he asked, hoping for wild compliments. Beth and Gracie both said they looked heavenly. Satisfied, Moose beamed. “The boys are not back yet.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement. The girls shook their heads. “Well, somebody better call them because dinner will be ready in exactly twelve minutes.”

  Gracie dropped the spoon she was holding and ran to the door, where she whistled sharply. Giz would hear the whistle and return. Hopefully, the guys would have enough sense to follow him.

  It was cold out. Gracie stood in the open doorway, her arms wrapped across her chest. It was a typical Thanksgiving day, all gray and overcast, with gusty winds blowing the last of the autumn leaves every which way. It was still flurrying, but there was no accumulation, so that was a plus in her opinion.

  Gracie heard a shrill bark, and even in the distance could see the black streak that was Gizmo headed down the road at ninety miles an hour. She couldn’t see Jim or John but knew they were out there. She also knew there was no way they could either keep up or outrun Gizmo. The big dog skidded to a stop, panting and pawing the ground. “You’re the bomb, Giz! Good work. Bet you worked up an appetite. Damn, I wish you could talk. Did you spot the jerk out there?”

  Giz let loose with three sharp barks, then sat back on his haunches as he waited for the two slugs who had walked him to appear. In spite of herself, Gracie laughed. “Giz, they’re just human. Give them a break; you have four legs, and they only have two.” Giz looked at her as much as to say, “Can’t you count?” “Yeah, right, okay, four legs between them. Your point, pal.”

  Jim and John, to make it look good, jogged the last few yards to the front door, sheepish looks on their faces, which were red with the cold.

  “The dog spotted the car, and he took off. He was parked around the block on the corner and had a clear view of the front of Beth’s house,” Jim said. “Now he knows we’re onto him. He’s going to have to change his game plan now.”

  “We can talk about this over dinner. It’s ready. Moose does not like to be kept waiting, and he wants to prove that every dish on the table is hot. So make sure you comment on how hot the food is. Wash your hands and get ready for Thanksgiving dinner.”

  Giz headed straight for the kitchen and the heavenly aromas wafting his way. The guys headed for the lavatory and laundry room to wash up.

  “Dinner is
served!” Moose announced as he carried the golden bronze turkey to the table. “I’m carving!” No one argued. “I’m also saying grace.” Again, no one argued. “You can start passing the bowls around while I carve. Miz Gracie, do you want to fix the dog’s bowl or should I?”

  “I’ll do it,” Gracie said. Giz’s plate wasn’t a bowl but a platter, which she fixed with loving care. A whole chicken breast, boned and cut into pieces. Mashed potatoes and giblet gravy, a side of sweet potatoes with marshmallows and honey, honey-glazed carrots, string beans, cranberry sauce, and two biscuits. For dessert, he would get the pumpkin chiffon pie because pumpkin was good for a dog’s digestive track. She looked at the plate, knowing it was a feast and more than what Giz normally ate. She’d have to run him later. She thought about Alex then, and how he said when they got home Giz was going to eat only what he ate. She remembered talking to the military vet that she took Giz to for checkups and what he said. “I’ve never seen a dog in better condition. Keep doing whatever it is you’re doing because it works.”

  What made it all work was that Giz never ate more than he could hold. Many times he walked away, leaving food on his plate. He did like gravy, though, so Gracie added an extra spoonful.

  The platter with the sliced turkey was being passed around when Gracie took her seat at the table. “Grace,” Moose said. Everyone bowed their heads, even Gizmo, since he knew what grace was. The words were soft, soothing, and comforting. Just the way they were supposed to be on this particular day. When he was finished, Moose held up his hand, and intoned, “Okay, let’s eat!”

  “Oh, wow, everything is so hot and delicious,” Jim Mack said.

  “I can’t get over how hot everything is. I think it’s a miracle that everything is the same temperature,” John said, tongue-in-cheek.

  They all had a good laugh at Moose’s expense. Giz stopped eating long enough to offer up a bark of agreement.

  “To say dinner is delicious would be an understatement,” Beth said. Gracie agreed, just as someone’s cell phone rang. Moose reared back. “No phone calls at the table!”

  John pulled out his phone, looked at the caller ID, then at Moose. “I’m sorry, I have to take this call.” He put the phone to his ear and listened. Three times he said, “Okay.” And then, at the end of the call, he thanked the caller and shut off the phone.

  “Who was that?” Beth asked in a jittery voice.

  “Dick Breme. There’s a problem in Nashville. For starters, they got twelve inches of snow in that freak storm. The storm drains at each end of the alley where Rootie Tootie’s is located froze over, and the pipes in the alley burst. The city closed off the alley, and work is under way. There’s no heat, and the water has been turned off at the club. Mr. Stonebridge has generators, but there is no access to the club because the water and sewer department are working near it. Dick said Mr. Stonebridge closed the club and said it won’t reopen till either Tuesday or Wednesday of next week and not to hurry back.”

  Beth looked across the table at John, and said, “I don’t know if I’m happy or sad about that. Poor Mr. Stonebridge. What is he going to do?”

  “There are generators, so he has heat and electricity. He just doesn’t have water flowing through the pipes, but there is a ton of bottled water in the storage room. He’ll be fine. Dick said they closed off the alley, so the soup kitchen is closed down, too.”

  “Well, there’s nothing any of us can do for the time being, so I suggest we move on to dessert and coffee. You have a choice of bourbon pecan pie with maple whipped cream or pumpkin chiffon pie with vanilla almond whipped cream. Name your poison, folks.” Moose wasn’t the least bit surprised when everyone asked for a slice of each.

  Giz barked twice. Moose actually laughed. “Damn, can this dog count, too?” Gracie nodded. “Okay, big boy, two pieces of pumpkin chiffon pie coming right up. Who is in charge of the coffee?”

  “Me! Since it’s my kitchen,” Beth said happily as she bounced out to the kitchen. All she could think of was she was home for at least three more days, four if she was lucky.

  Talk was general, even upbeat, while the small group consumed the delectable desserts. There was no mention of Luke Olsen and what tomorrow would bring. When the last smidgen of pie was gone, the conversation turned to the cleanup and a few moans and groans. It was decided that since Moose did the major portion of the cooking, with Beth and Gracie helping, the cleanup fell to Jim Mack and John.

  “No football until this kitchen is spick and span,” Beth announced. “Gracie and I will be upstairs if you need us, which you shouldn’t. We’ll just leave Giz here to make sure everything gets done right.”

  “I think I’ll mosey on home then,” Moose said. “I want to spend some time with Jake before . . . well, before tomorrow. I hope you all enjoyed the dinner. Be sure to cover all the leftovers since you’re going to be here for a few more days. Don’t waste the food, you hear?” They all nodded agreeably as Moose slipped into his down jacket. He tweaked Giz between the ears and left by the kitchen door.

  “I like that old guy,” Jim said as he looked around for an apron. “He’s a bit on the gnarly side, but that’s okay. At his age, he’s earned the right.”

  “Yeah, Jake is in good hands with Moose. He’s like a real father figure to both Jake and Beth. Okay, let’s get started. Since these are Beth’s good dishes and glassware, we wash by hand and dry. I’ll dry since I know where everything goes.”

  “Like I have a choice,” Jim deadpanned as he filled the sink with hot, soapy water.

  Beth and Gracie scooted out before they could be asked to pack up the food, Gizmo hot on their heels. As far as he was concerned, the women were more interesting than the men who were washing dishes.

  In her bedroom with the door closed but not locked, Beth bounced on her bed and motioned for Gracie to join her. They sat cross-legged, like two little girls about to share earth-shattering secrets.

  “Talk to me, Beth,” Gracie said quietly, just as Giz leaped up on the bed and wiggled himself between them. Two women with two hands meant belly rubs and ear tickling.

  “You know, Gracie, we’ve been friends it seems like forever. You’re the sister I never had. We’ve shared everything, commiserated and cried and laughed together. I . . . wanted to tell you what I was doing, but I was afraid you’d try to talk me out of it. I’ve made my share of mistakes along the way, but I learned from them. So, I’m apologizing here in advance.”

  “Apology accepted. Now tell me.”

  “I can’t sing.”

  “Well, helloooo, Beth Masters. I know that. The whole world knows you can’t sing.”

  “I mean I really can’t sing. I’ve been lying to everyone, especially John, about my vocal teacher. Oh, I am taking lessons and paying for them, but Alfie just charges me a pittance because he feels sorry for me. I’m never going to be a singer, and I am never going to take Nashville by storm.”

  “But . . . you said . . .”

  “I lied, Gracie. It was the only way to get John to Nashville. Everything I did was for John, not me. I had to make it sound that way, so he would agree to go along with me. He’s that good, Gracie. Really, he is. He deserves this chance. His soul is full of music. He makes it come alive. You should see the audience when he plays and sings. They love him. And the guy doesn’t need lessons; he’s a natural. Even the bandleader, Dick Breme, says so, and that guy has been on the scene for ages. Mr. Stonebridge has taken him under his wing. That would never have happened if I didn’t . . . um . . . do what I did.

  “I haven’t said much about John and what he went through over there. When he left the marines, he was not in good shape. He was with me, but then he’d go off somewhere else in his head. I started to get worried and we talked about it and he went to a shrink. He wasn’t sleeping, and he was eating badly. Bad memories. The only time he seemed to come alive was when he was singing or playing his guitar. He couldn’t hold a job because he’d zone out, and he’d get fired. I knew I had to do som
ething. So I pretended I was following my dream. I begged him to go with me, and at first he said no. And then he said okay. I have all the paperwork and the studio booked to cut the CD in February, but it isn’t for me, it’s for John. He just doesn’t know it yet. I can make it work, Gracie.”

  “Oh my God! And you kept all this to yourself and didn’t tell me.”

  “I couldn’t, Gracie. I needed you to be surprised, and your reaction had to be genuine or John would have seen right through it all. Jake was the hardest part. But I pulled that off, too. He’s going for his surgery, and right there it is win-win. In the end, because of what was going on with Jake and then me turning over the matchmaking business to him was what convinced John to follow me. I knew once he made that decision, the rest would play out just the way it was supposed to play out. I’d do it all over again if I had to,” Beth said fiercely.

  “What I didn’t count on was the fly in the ointment, as they say, by the name of Luke Olsen. I have to admit that threw me for a loop, but I was working on it.”

  “Well, damn, Beth Masters, you sure did fool me,” Gracie said. “I don’t know if I should hug you or give you a good swat.”

  Beth chewed on her bottom lip. “There’s more, Gracie. This is the part you aren’t going to like. But you said full disclosure, so I’m going to tell you. I had an ulterior motive where Jake is concerned. I wanted the two of you to . . . you know . . . get together. You’d be perfect for each other. Like we say, the perfect match. Okay, say it, go ahead.”

  Gracie laughed out loud. “Well, guess what, Miss Matchmaker? I figured that all out on day one. Your brother is a nice guy. I actually like him. Right now, though, he is as screwed up as you are. Guess it runs in the family, eh?”

  “You aren’t mad!” Beth said, surprise ringing in her voice.

  “Yeah, I am about the first part, but not about Jake. Like I said, I like him. Like, Beth, not love. Even if that were possible, that is waaayyy down the road.”

  Beth threw herself into Gracie’s arms. Giz yelped, then barked. He listened as the two women he loved most in the world started crying. He didn’t know whose face to lick first.