Reunited: Matchmakers Book 4

by Declan Rhodes

  “Xander?”

  “Blake names each version of the software. Xander is our latest. It’s much more personal than 3.7 or 8.2.”

  Kenneth chuckled softly. “I suppose I can wait. With Joseph, it was all so chilly that I eventually felt like I needed a space heater to warm me back up. Or a blanket. By a roaring fire. With hot cocoa and three big, puffy marshmallows floating in the mug.” Kenneth twirled a finger like he was stirring the chocolate and gazed across the table at me.

  An audible sigh escaped my lips. “I’m so sorry. We usually do better than that. Did I mention how many weddings Match Made dates ultimately generate? Hank and Luke are only one of many.”

  Kenneth was still stuck on the idea of hot cocoa in front of a roaring fire. “Remember when we had to spend an extra night in that bed and breakfast in Lake Geneva? We’d only planned one night, and then I think both of us were anxious about our missed work when the blizzard came through. I remember the host. He was ready to pitch us both out into a snowdrift.”

  Kenneth’s eyes glistened. It was a funny memory, and I’d not thought about it for years. “Isn’t that what she did? I took her suggestion for us to walk downtown as something like that. It was snowing outside. Those big, puffy snowflakes—like today.”

  “It was so gorgeous. And romantic…”

  That one word hung in the center of the table between us. I tried to read Kenneth’s expression, and I couldn’t quite place it. Was it pure nostalgia? Or did he have an agenda? Did he want to push something?

  “And that night,” whispered Kenneth. “I thought the fireplace in our suite was only for decoration. When I watched you try to light the fire, I laughed so hard.”

  “I never was a boy scout. I had to use those tiny papery things from a little book of matches.”

  “It was obvious you’d not built many fires. I don’t think I’d want to be out in the backwoods camping with you.”

  I self-consciously rubbed my chin. “Maybe that could be your responsibility. You need to generate the flames. I know how to cook once the fire’s started.”

  I stopped abruptly. Kenneth’s eyes were open wide, and he leaned partway across the table. I pulled back to try and interrupt our journey down a path to an uncertain destination.

  “Cook,” whispered Kenneth. “Yes, you do.”

  “Okay, fine. There was no double meaning in those words. Get it out of your head. Have you been to the art museum recently? Maybe we should stroll through the galleries to kill some time. I’ll give Blake that call, and then you can help me plan what we should serve.”

  “Something simple. Pasta? Quality seafood?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it will be best to order in. Running around the city in this weather might not be the best choice. Let’s hire a ride to the museum. We can sort it all out there. The snow should look stunning out across the lake.”

  “I’m yours now that I’ve decided to stay for the night, Daniel. Your wish is my command.”

  10

  Kenneth

  “You really can’t blame them. Look at the snow out there. It’s falling sideways.”

  Daniel was disappointed that Blake and Hunter backed out. He even suggested that we offer to pay for the cost of an Uber ride across the city. I stood at his floor-to-ceiling windows and looked over the lake while the conversation continued.

  Daniel continued to talk to Blake on the phone. “You know I’d never expect you to do anything that would be dangerous. Hug Hunter for me, and we’ll pick a different evening soon.”

  “How can the lake look so different up here when it’s less than a hundred miles from my house.”

  Daniel stepped up by my side and stuffed the cellphone into his pocket. “You live along the lake? Northshore? I guess I lost track of where you called home.”

  “It’s my perfect retreat. And it was a steal when I bought it. One of my friends knew about a couple who wanted to retire to a condo in West Palm. They needed to unload their house quickly. I think the cash was necessary for a downpayment.”

  We could barely see the ground twenty floors below because the snow fell so fast. Out toward the lake and to the south, the outline of the art museum was fuzzy. Somewhere out there, docks jutted out into the frigid water.

  “How’s it different up here?”

  “I think it’s because you tower over the bluff like this. Lake Michigan looks expansive, like an ocean. At my place, it’s all more intimate and framed by trees. It’s easier to understand that it’s only a freshwater lake there.”

  Daniel turned and moved two small, decorative sculptures around on his coffee table. First, he exchanged their positions, and then he placed them both on the opposite end. Daniel had something on his mind. When we were a couple, he always performed moved furniture around while he tried to sort thoughts out in his head.

  Reluctantly, I turned away from the beauty of the falling snow. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

  “No, not at all. I think I’m hungry. What should we order? Do you want Chinese? Indian?”

  “Are you sure you don’t have food we can throw together here? Now, it’s just the two of us. We don’t need a meal that’s elaborate or expensive. What would you eat this evening if you were here alone?”

  I brushed past Daniel to head to the kitchen. He followed me and quickened his step so that he could reach the refrigerator first. He didn’t want me to pull it open and poke around on my own. I leaned over his shoulder while he opened it and looked inside.

  I pointed to a lower shelf. “Is that a rotisserie chicken?”

  “It’s about half of one left.”

  “And do you have any veggies?”

  “Baby carrots. I think all the rest are frozen.”

  The refrigerator was well-stocked with condiments, and I spotted a package of pita bread. “Chicken salad. You like it. I remember. We can stuff it in the pitas, and maybe there’s a frozen veggie we can have on the side.”

  To my surprise, it didn’t take much to win Daniel over to my idea. “I have pretzels, too. I switched from chips several months ago in a burst of health consciousness.”

  Daniel reached down for the chicken and abruptly turned away from the fridge. I stumbled back when we collided, and we both laughed. “I should get out of your way. Do you have basic baking ingredients?”

  “I think so. Why do you ask? It’s too late in the evening to bake bread. The pita works. I think that’s a good idea.”

  “Dessert. I know a good snickerdoodle cookie recipe by heart. Do you mind if I do that while you make the chicken salad?”

  Daniel placed a hand on my shoulder. His grip was firm, and he held tight. He wanted to touch me. My realization that Daniel wanted physical contact caused an electric sensation to race to my toes. He asked, “Who in their right mind would turn down cookies?”

  Memories of what it was like when Daniel and I were a couple flooded my mind. We prepared meals together like we were performing a tango. He usually took care of whatever main dish we chose, and I whipped up a dessert. If we decided to avoid the sweetness, I focused on easy side dishes. I thought I heard a light sigh out of Daniel when I accidentally brushed against his backside on my way to retrieve an egg from the refrigerator.

  “Can we eat in the living room like cavemen, or would you prefer to stick to the table? I don’t have to be a beast.”

  Daniel laughed softly. “Aren’t the rich supposed to maintain an air of elegance?”

  “You’re rich? I try to tell myself I’m merely comfortable.”

  As I turned my head, I saw Daniel looking back at me. His gaze was warm and relaxed. It was a world of difference from the wicked glare when he first saw me at the hockey game. I thought I should have started a count of the number of times I heard laughter from his mouth. The sound soothed me.

  “Let’s eat on the couch. I’ll get coasters for the coffee table. If you spill, you clean up.”

  “I hope it’s Scotch-guarded.”

  We settled o
n opposite ends of an expensive leather-upholstered sofa. The modern lines complimented Daniel’s condo perfectly. I was careful to hold the pita over my plate as I bit into the chicken salad sandwich. It was delicious.

  After he took two bites, Daniel set his plate on the coffee table. “Should we watch a movie or a show on TV?”

  I turned my head and looked first one way and then the other. “Is the TV imaginary?” I looked up. “Or maybe it pulls down from the ceiling.”

  “Almost.”

  With an expression of confusion on my face, I watched as Daniel disappeared down a short hallway. He came back with a large-screen TV on a low, polished wood cart.

  He’d figured out a fantastic solution. The TV didn’t have to be a focal point in the living room, but it was convenient to bring out whenever needed.

  “You never did come up with a solution like this back when…”

  My voice faded out as Daniel raised his right hand. “I saw the idea in some home decor magazine. The TV normally lives in my office, and I usually watch it there, but the cart makes it easy to wheel it out here when I have...company.”

  We watched a movie that Daniel said he’d wanted to see. It kicked off with the tragic death of a teenager in a car accident. Parents wailed at the funeral, and high school friends wandered around shell-shocked. Suddenly, the screen went dark, and the remote control menu popped up.

  “Isn’t that a little much?”

  I glanced at Daniel with a smirk on my face. “It’s always been your thing in movies. You love all those twisted, intense emotions.”

  “Am I that bad?”

  “The movie was that bad.”

  Daniel pointed the remote control at the screen and moved quickly through multiple streaming services.

  “Do you remember what we used to watch when one of us was stressed out?”

  Daniel paused the remote control activity and turned to face me. “Mary?”

  “You remember!”

  Daniel found his way to old episodes of the Mary Tyler Moore show. As we both laughed along with the first humorous line, I said, “It still doesn’t seem out of date. How do they do that? The show ended before I was born. These episodes are almost fifty years old.”

  “Older than me, too, but my parents were big fans.”

  A few minutes into the show, I started to laugh out loud without a prompt from the TV.

  Daniel aimed the remote control and paused the show. “What’s so funny?”

  “It just seems logical that this is the episode you’d pick out of all the choices.”

  “Oh, this was the last episode I watched.”

  “You could pick a different one, but maybe a funeral fits the spirit of that movie you wanted to see.”

  Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. He started to protest. “But this is a funny funeral. That’s different. It’s awkward, too. That’s why Mary laughs so hard. Haven’t you ever felt out of place and awkward like that? Sometimes all you can do is laugh.”

  I glanced around the living room of Daniel’s apartment. I’d started to settle in, but awkward was an excellent way to describe my feelings. I enjoyed the fact that we could hang out together again, but there was so much past water that rushed under the bridge between us. I worried that at any moment, it might overwhelm us and take the support pillars out before it washed them downstream.

  “It’s safe to say I’ve felt out of place once or twice. Don’t get annoyed with me. Relax those arms, and let’s go back to the show.”

  We watched five more episodes of the show together. Daniel opened a bottle of red wine, and we were both giggly as the evening grew longer. After the end credits rolled for the sixth time, I reached my arms over my head and stretched. “I think I’m exhausted. Should we get some sleep?”

  “One more?”

  “I don’t think I can make it through. You can stay up if you want, but I need to know the way to your guest room. I want to get an early start in the a.m. if the roads are in better shape than tonight.”

  When we were together, Daniel was a night owl. He’d often stay up an hour or two later than me. When he crawled into bed after I’d fallen asleep, I never minded waking up and sharing a quick round of sexual activity before we both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  “It’s down the hall, second door to the right.”

  I followed Daniel down the hall. He had photos of family and friends hung on the wall. The approach to the guest room was like a short journey through Daniel’s life, and I met the important people along the way. The last two photos were Blake with his boyfriend, Hunter, and Iris with her fiance, Ollie. I shivered slightly when my sleepy mind imagined one more picture with my arm around Daniel’s shoulders.

  “This room is perfect.” I stepped into the sanctuary for guests. It was the right word for how it felt. It was a place to get away from all of the external stresses in the world. The walls were a deep grayish-blue and peaceful images of a beach with gentle waves rolling ashore hung above the bed. No windows disrupted the calm. A low dresser and a chair completed the furnishings.

  “I had a hard time choosing between this and my bedroom once I got them both set up.”

  “I’m sure I’ll sleep well.”

  “Oh, hang on.” Daniel disappeared from the room, and I heard a door open in the hall. When he returned, he had blankets and two pillows in his arms. “Those pillows on the bed are flat. Try these instead. I bought them and had them shipped a few months back. You’ll be the first to sleep on them.”

  “You don’t host guests too often, eh?” It didn’t surprise me. In the past, I remembered, even Daniel’s closest relatives seemed to ignore him. I felt awful about that, but he insisted it left him with a great deal of valuable freedom.

  I pointed at a plant on the far end of the dresser. “How do you keep that alive in a room no brighter than this?

  “Plastic.”

  “Plastic?”

  “The plant is made of plastic. Remember? I never could keep anything green alive. I finally got a big bowl with a fighting fish in my first apartment because it was the only flora or fauna I could keep alive other than me.”

  “You didn’t do a bad job with yourself.”

  When I turned to face Daniel, he rubbed his chin. “I’m not completely sure what you mean by that.”

  Sometimes he was clueless about the direction of conversations. I opened my arms. “Could I have a hug before I go to bed?”

  Fortunately, Daniel didn’t hesitate. We wrapped each other up, and the fit remained as perfect as it was years before. He gazed into my eyes. When he first saw me at the hockey game, which already seemed like forever ago, those eyes blazed with fire. I was the last person he wanted to see. Now they were slightly bloodshot from the lateness of the evening, but there was an unmistakable warmth in his gaze.

  “I’m glad I didn’t let you try to navigate the snow-covered roads.”

  “Me, too, and I’m happy that we spent an evening together. You’ve been the perfect host.” I thought I detected Daniel’s face moving closer to me, and I followed his lead. My lips were less than an inch from his when he suddenly pulled back.

  Finding words more quickly than he usually did at emotionally-charged moments, Daniel said, “I’m glad we can be friends. Enemies take too much energy.”

  I took a deep breath. We’d been so close, that, at first, I thought I’d tasted Daniel’s full lips. I placed one of my hands on his chest. “I agree. I’ll set my alarm, and you don’t even need to get out of bed in the morning. The coffeemaker is the same as mine at home, and I’ll slip out early.”

  “Goodnight, Kenneth.”

  “Goodnight, and I mean that. I hope the rest of your night is excellent and sleep well.”

  After I slipped between the sheets that felt like crisp, new pajama fabric, I grabbed my cellphone from the side table. I had to make a call.

  Sean answered. “Where are you? Please don’t tell me you’re stuck on I-94 outside of Kenosha.” />
  I quickly soothed his ruffled feathers. “I’m riding out the storm at Daniel’s place.”

  “Daniel? Are you kidding me? Is there…”

  I cut him off. “Don’t jump ahead down that road. We’re just friends, and I think that’s the way it will be. I can’t think about other options. Instead, I need to settle for the comfort of him back in my life as a friend. That’s it. That’s all it will be.”

  11

  Daniel

  I awoke with an unanswered question in my head. How can someone make so much noise when they’re trying to be quiet? First, it was the bathroom with the toilet flushing, the sound of the shower, and I counted at least five things dropped followed up by words like, “Oh, shit...shh shh shh.”

  The kitchen was down the hall, so I assumed that I would finally get a respite from the noise. I rolled over to face the opposite wall and pulled the blanket up my chin. I’d almost escaped to Dreamland when I heard what sounded like a pot and pan avalanche. The din of stainless steel clanging together was enough to make me sit upright in bed.

  I wasn’t upset. I knew that Kenneth was trying. It wasn’t his fault, but he was simply one of those people who just couldn’t move through life quietly. In his case, it wasn’t his voice either. Some people found ways to be loud without ever opening their mouths.

  The process of stacking the pots and pans back in the cupboard was nearly as loud as the initial clamor. I reached up to put my hand over my mouth to stifle any stray laughter. It went on so long that it was funny, and I imagined a look of bewilderment on Kenneth’s face as every attempt to stay silent failed in a spectacular fashion.

  When I heard the sound of a plate crashing into the sink, followed by a yelp, “Ow! That’s hot hot!” I knew that it was time to crawl out of bed. After a long stretch and an audible yawn, I padded out into the hallway first to the bathroom and then toward the kitchen.