Miss Match: a Lauren Holbrook novel

by Erynn Mangum

  “No,” I say to Hannah. “We missed you last night, though I doubt you would have found a place to sit,” I tell Ruby.

  “Please? I love Pooh.”

  “I told you, Laurie, I needed a dress.”

  “He’s so cute and squishy and cuddly,” Hannah coos.

  “Yeah, but you could have shopped on Saturday.”

  “But I decided to shop last night.”

  “And he has that squishy voice. So adorable!”

  “And found nothing!” I aim my finger at Ruby. “You’re avoiding Nick!”

  “I am not!”

  “Remember that time when he went to go look for the land of milk and honey?”

  “You are too! You’re scared that he’ll reject you to your face.”

  “That is not true!”

  “It was my favorite episode of all.”

  “Just give him a chance, Ruby!”

  “He was doomed to failure.”

  Ruby and I stop and look at Hannah. “What?” we ask in unison.

  She tears sad, beautiful blue eyes away from the yellow bear. “The land of milk and honey. He was doomed to fail there.”

  “Who was?” Ruby asks slowly.

  “Joshua?” I say.

  “Winnie-the-Pooh!” Hannah frowns. “Who’s Joshua?”

  “Like in the Bible.” I watch the blank expression in her eyes and shake my head. “Never mind.”

  “So can I have this?” Hannah presses her face against Pooh’s.

  Ruby watches her, her face creasing in growing disgust. “You don’t even want to know what a little kid did to that the other day.”

  Hannah’s expression changes immediately. “I’m done.” She goes back into the studio.

  Ruby looks at me, her arms crossed across her chest. “Listen, Laurie, I appreciate the concern, I honestly do. But there’s nothing there for you to be concerned about.” She waves her hand in the air.

  The bell over the door rings right as I open my mouth. She glances up. “That’s my nine o’clock,” she says to me and then walks over to greet the clients, smiling.

  I open the door to Bud’s at ten after noon. Mikey lifts his head from wiping down a table and grins.

  “Hey, Laurie.”

  “Hiya, Mikey.”

  “Give me a sec to finish.”

  “One.”

  “Funny.”

  He sprays the table with the solution in the bottle hanging from his belt loop, then rubs over the surface with a cloth.

  “Okay.” He dumps the cloth by the register. “Can I try to predict the order?”

  I nod. “Go ahead.”

  “Two cheeseburgers, two onion rings, and two milkshakes?”

  I bite my lip. “Uh, I think you meant one cheeseburger, one order of French fries, and a Dr. Pepper.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” He grins at me. “Three dollars and seventy-six cents. Minus the tip.”

  “Of course. Here’s three bucks . . . seventy-four, seventy-five, seventy-six cents.” I tuck my wallet back in my backpack. “Look both ways before crossing the street.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.” He bags the order and hands it to me. “Have a good day, Laurie.”

  I polish off the burger during the walk back to the studio, go past Hannah’s desk, where she and Ruby are having an animated discussion over carrot sticks, and open Brandon’s door.

  “Hi, Han,” I greet him.

  “Hi, Leia. Thanks for the knock.”

  “You’re welcome. Want some fries?” I shake the bag in his face.

  He leans back in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. “Sure.” He smiles.

  I take a seat on his desk and pass him the bag. “Whatcha working on?”

  “Well, right now I’m working on finances, which should be somewhere under your left ankle.”

  I nod and sip my drink. Gag. “Ugh.” I gasp, hacking. “Mikey must’ve mixed the lines again. This is definitely root beer.”

  Blegh.

  Root beer ranks up there with lemongrass tea. Even the name is nasty. Root beer. Yuck. Sounds like someone hollowed out a tree branch, pureed what he found, bottled it, and made a killing.

  “Can I have it?” Brandon asks.

  I napkin off my tongue. “Be my guest.” I sputter on the paper shreds sticking in my mouth.

  Brandon watches me, his expression curling into a blend of disgust and curiosity. “You are gross.” He takes a long drink and sets it purposefully on the desk. “I’m glad you stopped in, actually, because there is something I wanted to tell you.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Is it good?”

  He sighs. “Does everything have to be good?”

  “Yes. Yes, it does. Otherwise it would be bad.” I look at him pitifully. “I don’t need bad news today. I’m afflicted in spirit.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Sure you are. And anyway, just because news isn’t good doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad. It could be neutral.”

  “Since when is anything you say neutral?”

  He covers his face. “Okay, okay. You win.” Holds out a hand. “Mark the back side of your house with another tally.”

  “I will.” I shake his hand in a peace gesture.

  “Good grief, Laurie.”

  “So what’s your news?” I scoot closer on the desk.

  “Watch it, Nutsy, you’re crunching the forms.”

  He leans further back, has a swig of the Gross Stuff, and smiles at me. “I just had a phone call from Laney.”

  My mouth drops. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh, her ultrasound! It’s today!” I grab for Brandon’s desk phone.

  He stops me. “She’s not home anymore. She’s taking Dorie to dance.”

  Affliction of soul forgotten, I hop to my knees and grab Brandon by the collar. “What did she say? What?”

  “Well, there was good news.” He says this slowly and deliberately.

  I grab him more tautly. “What?”

  He grins at my impatience. “First, get off the desk, Laurie, you’re making a mess.”

  I jump off the desk, and my hip lands with a harrowing smack! against the stupid potted plant he keeps there so the office will have a homey feel. I fall to the floor and bounce back to my feet.

  Brandon, now standing, gapes.

  “What did she say? What did she say?” I beg.

  “Didn’t that hurt? Aren’t you mad? Won’t I get another lecture about plants and the outdoors?” Brandon steps over, eyes big.

  “Yes, yes, yes. Later, though. After my bruise has had time to darken and grow in size. Now, Laney!”

  I again have him by the collar. His mouth curls in his hiding-a-smile smirk.

  “Like I said, there’s good news.” Again said slowly.

  “What? What?”

  He pauses for a long minute. “They’re almost positive that it is indeed human.”

  He bursts out laughing. I tighten my grip. “Brandon Michael Knox!”

  He puts his hands around mine, which are attached to the gills of his shirt, if there is such a thing.

  “Okay, okay, sorry. There was news,” he says, leisurely.

  “Brandon!”

  “And, much as I would love to tell you, Laney made me promise I wouldn’t.”

  “What!”

  He rips my hands away from his shirt collar. “So sorry, Honey, I’m worthless to you.”

  “Not entirely. There is still the matter of paychecks.” I pace his office. “You know the news.”

  He nods, grinning like Ricky Ricardo after Lucy broke the news that she was pregnant with Little Ricky. I used to think Ricky’s smile was so cute. Now I know.

  It’s annoying.

  I keep pacing.

  I poke my finger at his chin. “And you won’t tell me?”

  “I swore.”

  “Swore what?”

  He holds up his fingers like a boy scout. “I would protect her secret ‘to the pain.’”

  “Laney’s words?”

  “Yes
.”

  “Aha!” I stop, finger in air, triumphant. “The Princess Bride. Laney never quotes that scene unless it’s a really big secret.”

  He shakes his head, pushing his hands into his pockets arrogantly. “Sorry, kid. You’re out of luck. Now, get out so I can get some work done.”

  “Hey!” I brighten. “What if I offered to buy you a cheesecake?”

  “Out, Laurie.” He pushes me toward the door.

  I scramble. “With strawberry topping. And whipped cream.”

  “Out.”

  “And one of those little mint leaves?”

  He opens the door and not-so-gently shoves me into the hallway. “Now you’re reaching.”

  “Brandon?” I say quietly.

  He pauses shutting the door. “Yes, Laurie?”

  I stick my bottom lip out and make Bambi eyes. “My hip hurts.”

  Slam!

  I turn and sulk down the hallway dejectedly toward the two Peeping Thomasinas.

  “Wow.” Hannah is blinking. “That must have been something.”

  “Yeah,” Ruby says. They both sigh sadly.

  “We missed it,” Hannah says to Ruby.

  “We’re idiots, Hannah. We should just assume that any time Laurie walks into that office and closes the door, and there are raised voices heard inside, something of interest is going on.”

  I fall into the chair beside Ruby. “Ha ha.”

  “What happened?” Hannah takes the last carrot stick and then tosses the plastic baggie in the trash can.

  “Oh, Laney called and told Brandon something exciting and he won’t tell me and I’m never speaking to him again.” I lift the edge of my shirt.

  “Ouch!” Ruby’s eyes narrow at the blackening mark on my body.

  “Yeah. I hope Baby Number Four appreciates what I’m going through for her.”

  “Or him,” Hannah ventures.

  I shake my head vehemently. “No, it’s a her. Has to be. Laney and I already worked out the details.”

  Ruby tugs on her hair. “Did you let God know?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Sweetheart, I hate to tell you this, but it’s going to be a boy.” Ruby grins at me, her eyes softening, and I see the unspoken message that we’re on good terms. She pushes her heels off and crosses her legs at the ankles. “Know something?” She looks at her feet. “My mother always told me that a lady keeps her legs crossed at all times and it’s nonnegotiable when she’s wearing a skirt. And then I had a photograph session with Dr. Metgars, and she told me that crossing your legs leads to varicose veins.”

  Hannah finishes clearing her lunch. “So it’s either be a lady and have stripy legs or be a slut and have pretty legs?”

  “Not necessarily. See, that’s what I thought at first too. And then I discovered this.” She turns forward in her seat, sits up straight, knees together, and slips her left leg behind her right one.

  Trouble is, her right knee locks into place and her left leg is already way past the healthy target range for crossed legs.

  Ruby screams as she topples to the floor.

  “Oh my gosh!” Hannah laughs.

  I lean over to help Ruby untangle her skirt from her collar button.

  “So the third choice is to be a bruised stripper?” I ask.

  Ruby smacks the back of my head, grinning. “Be a lady and keep your mouth shut.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I make a slight detour on the way home. Park on the street, walk up the three steps to the front door, and find the blue ceramic frog, christened Bill, in one of the flowerpots.

  I pull the key from Bill’s innards and unlock the door.

  “Hey!” I shout into the quiet house.

  “Auntie Lauren!” Three little kids yell from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

  “Hey, Hon, we’re eating!”

  I walk into the kitchen holding Bill. Everyone is sitting around the table eating spaghetti. Both of the boys have morphed into meatballs, I assume, because sauce covers them from the hair down.

  “Hiya.” I kneel beside Laney’s chair.

  She smiles at Adam and looks at me. “What’s up, Lauren?”

  I give her a look. “You know exactly what’s up.”

  Dorie finishes swallowing, hops out of her chair, and grabs me around the neck, planting a big wet one on my face.

  “Hey, Favorite Niece.” I hug her back. “How are you?”

  “Guess what? Guess what!”

  “What?” I touch her button nose.

  “Mommy’s having twins!” Dorie exclaims.

  I sit right there on the kitchen floor.

  Laney bursts into laughter and tears as she looks at me.

  “Really?” I’m quiet, my mouth widening in a smile, my eyes starting to tingle from the incoming blubber-fest. Tear ducts, ready!

  “Really,” Laney whispers. Tear ducts, fire!

  I push myself to my knees and give her a hug around her middle, pressing my face into her stomach. “Hi, babies.” I kiss them through Laney.

  Laney brushes her fingers through my hair. “I like your hair like this, Lauren.”

  “Thank you.” I sit back, clear my throat, and resume business. “Boys or girls?”

  “It’s still a little early to tell.”

  I look at Adam. “Five kids.”

  He fakes a long sigh and looks at his kids gravely. “I know. And see, I always thought we were a maximum four-kid family.”

  I look seriously around the table. “Guess you’ll have to get rid of one of them.”

  Jess’s mouth drops open, spaghetti lolling around inside. “But, Daddy,” he sniffs, getting teary. “Can’t we stay wif you, please?”

  “Yeah,” Jack says. “I will make my bed now.”

  Adam leans next to my ear. “I could get some chores out of these kids for the next eight months.”

  “You’re a cruel man, Adam Knox.”

  “Runs in the family.”

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t I know it. Look what your brother did to me today.”

  I show them my bruise.

  “Ouch,” Laney says. “Get some ice on that, Lauren, it’s swelling.”

  “I’m going to when I get home.”

  She raises her eyebrows.

  Uh-oh. Dad.

  I wince. “Then again, maybe not. Man. I want a minifridge/freezer for my birthday, okay, Laney?”

  “I’ll remember that. Get some ice, Honey.”

  I stand. “Okay, well I’m going to go. Call Dad so that he knows about the babies when I get home.”

  “Already did, Laur. I called everyone except you because you were at lunch and I couldn’t remember your cell number.”

  I open the freezer, fill a plastic bag with ice, and write my number on her to-do list. “There you go.”

  “See you later!” Laney calls.

  Dad is waiting when I get home. “Did you hear, Laurie-girl?” He clutches the phone and grins as I throw my backpack in the general direction of the stairs.

  “About Laney?” I ask.

  “Twins!”

  “It’s great.” I smile sentimentally.

  Dad lifts his eyebrows. “I hope she takes care of herself. Remember how sick she was with the boys?”

  I go to the kitchen, frowning. “She wasn’t sick, Dad.”

  “Yes, she was. She threw up every time she ate.”

  “Morning sickness. She was done with that in like two weeks.”

  “And then she didn’t move from the living room chair.”

  “You wouldn’t let her, Dad.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t! She didn’t need to be moving.” His eyes brighten. “You know, I was just reading an article about childbirth in my magazine. Wait right here.”

  He disappears from the kitchen. I stir the chili that slowly simmers on the stove. Medical Mysteries and Common Occurrences. Not only is the title entirely too long, but the magazine also twists every decent doctor’s words into a vicious cocktail of horror, shoc
k, disillusionment, and sheer stupidity of medical staffs.

  Dad returns holding it, the glossy cover displaying the picture of a young woman holding a baby the size of her thumbnail.

  He pulls one of the kitchen chairs out, sits, and flips through it. “Here it is. ‘Pregnancy and Problems: The Bobbsey Twins of the Twenty-First Century.’”

  Oh brother.

  “‘In a culture that idolizes medical knowledge, training, and proper healthcare, there is a terrifying new culprit toward the obstetric ward — the cold shoulder. In the doctors’ quest for answers to diseases that plague adults around the country, newborns often get the smallest straw of the medical staff.’”

  Dad looks up, his eyes wide.

  I stir the chili.

  “‘Deborah Kyle of Kentucky states that her experience with the obstetrics was nothing less than horrible: “No one believed I was in labor. I gave birth to Kylie two minutes later in the waiting room.” Kylie died later from lung failure due to the nurse not properly clearing out her airway after birth.’” Dad covers his mouth with his hand. “Oh my.”

  After sipping the chili, I add more chili powder. “Look, Dad, who knows where they find these people. That’s probably not even a true story. I mean, who really names their child Kylie Kyle?”

  He points to the magazine. “But it’s written right here.”

  “People write things that aren’t true.”

  “What decent person would do that?”

  “Exactly.”

  We sit to chili a few minutes later. “Less than a month until our trip, Laurie-girl. Are you excited?”

  I nod, mouth full. “Yes. One whole month of nothing but relaxation, seafood, scenery, and no human beings around save for my wonderful father.”

  Dad waits until I put a big spoonful of chili in my mouth. “There will be more people around.”

  I start hacking. “I beg your pardon?” I ask.

  “We’re staying in a cabin, Honey. Along the shoreline with a bunch of other cabins.”

  “Oh.” I wipe chili from my chin. “Well. I can deal with that. I’ll just avoid them.”

  Dad frowns disapprovingly. “You don’t want to be rude, Laurie.”

  “I won’t be rude. Just the silent stranger.” I toss my hair over my shoulder. “I’ll be mysterious. Guys like that, I’ve heard.”