Miss Match: a Lauren Holbrook novel

by Erynn Mangum

  We spend the next two hours arguing over whether the living room should be cranberry and beige or cranberry and sandstone. We’re sitting on her sofa, legs tucked up underneath us. I have a huge mug of Lexi’s cinnamon coffee in my hands, and there’s a roaring fire in her fireplace.

  It’s nice and cozy. I look over at Lexi as she yammers on about how much she likes cranberry and beige together. Her hair is falling over her shoulders, and she’s using her hands animatedly as she talks, pointing to an interior design catalog.

  I love my sister.

  “I’m starved!” Nate yells as he opens the door, letting in a blast of cold air that makes the fire shudder.

  Ryan comes in behind him, shutting the door. The fire breathes a sigh of relief.

  Lexi hardly glances up from her magazine. “You have got to be kidding. It’s barely noon.”

  “Hey, we’re doing hard construction work outside,” Nate protests. He comes around the sofa, wraps his arms around a shrieking Lexi, and kisses her neck repeatedly.

  “Get off me!” she screams, arms flailing. “You’re sweaty!”

  I hope she isn’t too attached to the cranberry/beige option, because the color card disappears into the couch cushions.

  Ryan bends over, resting his arms on the couch, and taps my shoulder. “See, this is marriage.” He says this quietly into my ear.

  I giggle.

  Lexi pushes Nate off with her legs and huffs loudly. “All right, all right. Lunch will be ready in ten minutes.” She grabs Nate’s hand and pulls herself off the couch. “Come on, Mr. Muscles, you can help.”

  Nate flexes for her, Lexi dissolves into laughter. “Into the kitchen,” she commands.

  Ryan watches them go, then comes around the sofa and settles into Lexi’s vacated spot. “What are you looking at?”

  I sip my coffee. “Color swatches for this room.” I hold up my color choice. “What do you think? Cranberry on that wall and sandstone on the other three.”

  He glances at the walls. “Uh, yeah.”

  “You don’t care in the least, do you?”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yes.”

  He leans back, nodding. “Then I like it too.” He eyes my coffee enviously.

  I pass the mug to him. “How’s the porch building going?”

  He sips, grimaces at the sweetness, balances the cup on his knee, and rakes a hand through his curly hair. “It’s going okay.”

  “Aha.” I cross my arms smugly. “You got the fish bait speech.”

  “Come again?”

  “You know. ‘You hurt her, you’ll be fish bait.’”

  He grins. “Yep. Except in my case it was ground beef. What about you? Gotten a speech about me yet?”

  “Honey, we’ve been too busy arguing over sandstone or beige.”

  “I’m not even going to comment on that one.” He drains the cup.

  “I guess I’m done with the coffee.”

  “Guess so. Laurie, I haven’t known you too long, but I’ve known you long enough. You’ve got enough coffee in the kitchen to feed the Israelites escaping from Egypt.”

  I nod toward the mug. “You realize that had milk and sugar in it.”

  “I was thirsty.”

  I watch him for a minute. “You think I’m going to get a ground beef speech about you?” I ask incredulously.

  “No, I think yours has something to do with diamonds.”

  Now I’m impressed. I tell him so.

  “Well, I do have an older sister, Laur.”

  “Did you ever give a ground beef speech?”

  “No. Ruby’s a few years older. By the time I realized that boyfriends were bad, she’d moved out.” He flicks my arm. “What about you?”

  “I didn’t resort to speech so much as action.”

  “Do I want to know?”

  “Ask Lexi. She can tell you the harrowing tales of having a baby sister.”

  “Lunchtime!” Lexi yells from the kitchen.

  Ryan pulls me off the couch and I lead the way.

  Lexi gestures to the island counter. “Informal, yes, but filling.”

  “Works for me.” Ryan’s salivating over the rolls, deli meat, and cheeses.

  Nate slaps Ryan on the back. “You know, girls, Ryan and I make a pretty good team. We’ll have to do this again.”

  Ryan gives me a sidelong wink. “Sure. What about next weekend?”

  “Really?” Nate pounces. “Great! Next week we can make porch chairs.”

  Ryan cuts open a roll. “I don’t know that the porch will get finished today, Nate.”

  “Two weekends from now?”

  Ryan laughs. “Okay, sure.”

  “Nate!” Lexi scolds. “The poor boy is never going to have any free time.”

  “What?” Nate protests. “He can hang with me, we can build stuff, and then he gets to come inside and stare at two of the prettiest girls this side of Mississippi.” He smacks Ryan’s back again. “I never knew how much I missed having a brother. Or even a dad that got into building stuff.”

  Lexi shakes her head. “Sorry, Ryan. I think you’ve just been adopted.”

  “Hey, I think it’s great too. I never had a brother either.”

  Smack!

  Ryan’s shoulder blade has to be getting sore from Nate’s constant pounding.

  Nate grins wider. “See, Lex?”

  Whap!

  I decide to step in for the sake of Ryan’s back. Who knows? Ten years from now, after all this hitting, he may not be able to play horsey with his little daughter.

  I move behind Ryan, holding my plate.

  “Oh, go ahead in front of me, Laurie.” He motions to the sandwiches.

  “No, no. You’re the one who’s been working all day.”

  “Yep, that’s right!” Nate gets ready to smack Ryan again and then realizes I stand there. He pats my shoulder.

  Ryan’s foot nudges mine in a silent “thank you.”

  We sit at the table, Nate says a prayer, and then we dive in.

  “So, Lexi,” Ryan says. “First, this is great. Second, I hear that you’ve got some stories about Laurie torturing your boyfriends?”

  Lexi finishes swallowing and bursts into laughter. “Ryan, those stories are better saved for after your honeymoon.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you might change your mind after hearing how cruel she can get.”

  “Hey!” I yell.

  Lexi looks at me. “Well, he might.”

  Nate nods. “I had to wait until I was married, Laurie. So does Ryan.”

  I give Ryan a Bambi look. “Don’t believe them, dear. I was a perfect angel.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I was!” I protest. “How can you think otherwise?”

  “A certain image of you prostrating yourself to a picture in your studio comes to mind.”

  Nate coughs.

  “Other than that,” I tell Ryan.

  He tips his head. “How about Oreos?”

  “Okay, I’m done pleading innocence.” I get a bag of potato chips from Lexi’s pantry.

  “So, Lex, do you want porch chairs or a chaise lounge?” Nate asks.

  “Maybe I should be asking which Ryan would prefer.”

  Ryan shrugs. “No difference in difficulty, just design.”

  Lexi peers out the window. “Can I request a table as well?”

  “Sure,” Nate says. Ryan covers his mouth, his eyes twinkling.

  “Okay,” she says finally. “A table, four chairs, two chaise lounges. Please.”

  I pat Ryan’s arm. “Hey, this is familiar.” He glowers at me. I grin. “Nice knowing you, buddy.”

  “Too much?” Lexi asks, her face crumpling.

  “No, no, not at all,” Ryan jumps in. “Just don’t expect it by Monday or anything.”

  “But by summer?”

  He nods.

  We leave at four. Ryan opens the truck door for me, promising Nate he’ll be back next Saturday. Lexi and I decide to
paint then.

  “Beige!” she yells as I climb into the truck.

  “Sandstone!”

  Ryan starts the truck, waves, and pulls out of the driveway.

  “Sore?” I ask him.

  “Mmm . . . a little.”

  I glance at the clock on the dashboard. “It’s still early for dinner. Want to come watch a movie?”

  “Sure. Wait a minute. What movie?”

  “You and Brandon. Sheesh. No faith at all.”

  He shoots me a glance. “I heard at least fifteen separate references to fifteen different chick flicks made by you and Lexi during lunch today.”

  “And wouldn’t you like to have known what we were talking about?”

  “No. I’m content to just stare cluelessly like Nate.”

  I laugh. “Thanks for helping him like that. It meant a lot to him.”

  “Anytime, Laurie.”

  “Sounds like that’s what you promised.”

  He steers into my driveway. I hop out and unlock the front door. “Dad?” I call.

  No answer.

  I check the garage; his car is gone. Going back into the kitchen, I rinse out the coffeepot.

  “Want some?” I ask Ryan, who comes in through the hallway.

  “Uh, sure. You’re going to live a short life, Laurie.” He is shaking his head.

  “Ah, but a good life.”

  I push the button and the machine starts whirring. “Chocolate?” I offer.

  He sighs. “Look, Laur, I’d really like you to be around in thirty years. Don’t eat the chocolate, please?”

  There is the little-kid-on-the-playground smile.

  I exhale dramatically. “Just five M&Ms?”

  “Three.”

  “Four?”

  “Deal.”

  I get the bag, grouchy. “You’re trying to change me.”

  “Not change, exactly. Just prolong you.”

  I scowl. “What movie did we decide on? Ever After?”

  “Heh heh.” He opens the video closet. “Wow. You have a lot of movies.”

  “It’s a dollar and fifteen cents to rent one, if you like.”

  “Funny, Laurie. Hey! The Dream Team. I haven’t seen this in ages.” He pulls out the DVD. “Let’s watch this.”

  I know how to negotiate. “I don’t know, Ryan,” I say slowly.

  “Five M&Ms?”

  I shake his hand. “You got it.”

  I push the DVD in and grab the remote, settling on the right side of the sofa, tucking my feet underneath me. Ryan takes the left side.

  “How poetic,” I mutter as the movie starts.

  “What?”

  “Our first movie together is The Dream Team. Fitting, considering our ploy don’t you think?”

  He shakes the couch he laughs so hard.

  I walk into The Brandon Knox Photography Studio Monday morning, brushing snowflakes from my hair and grinning broadly at Hannah, who is sitting at her desk, yawning.

  “Good morning, Hannah,” I sing, half-tossing, half-shoving my backpack into my cubby. “Isn’t it gorgeous outside?”

  “Mmph.”

  “Hey,” I say, leaning over to peer into her face. “Today is a happy day. No mumbled answers allowed.”

  “And why, pray tell, is this a happy day?” She starts guzzling coffee from a very boring stainless-steel thermos.

  “Nick and Ruby are together!” I spread out my hands and do a little dance. “It’s a wonderful day!”

  The bell over the door rings. Ruby walks in.

  Maybe walk is too strong a word. Perhaps shuffle is a better verb for how she enters. Her hair is fixed, her makeup is on, her clothes are ironed, but she just looks . . . slumped over. Like four of those bags of brown sugar Matthew bought Marilla in Anne of Green Gables are slung over her shoulders.

  I stop the happy dance and give Hannah a concerned look before turning back to Ruby, who is staring out the window.

  “Um, Ruby?” I ask.

  She jerks and turns, like she didn’t know Hannah and I were here. “Oh,” she says in a dull voice. “Sorry. I didn’t see you. Morning.”

  This may be bad to ask, but I’m going to ask anyway. “Why’d you miss church yesterday? And how’s Nick?”

  Her bottom lip immediately relocates to between her teeth. She gives a little shrug and shakes her head.

  “Did something happen?” Hannah asks from behind me.

  Ruby falls into one of the chairs in front of Hannah’s desk, covering her face. “We went to dinner. Twice.”

  There is no excitement, no sense of happiness in her voice.

  I’m starting to feel panicked worry slicing between the tendons in my fingers. I sit beside her, my foot bouncing. “You didn’t enjoy it?”

  “Dinner?” Ruby questions, lifting her head. “Dinner was fine. I had a salad the first night. Chicken Caesar. The dressing was too anchovy, but it was fine. And I had barbecue the second night. With a side of cole slaw and some biscuits.”

  “No, Ruby, no, I meant the company, not the food.” It is never a good sign when a girl talking about her date starts with a rundown of the meals.

  Long sigh from her. “Oh.”

  Hannah’s eyebrows are Velcroed together, a frown on her pretty face. It’s her turn to send me a worried look.

  I look back at Ruby, who is staring at Studio Two’s door with an intensity I’ve never seen in someone staring at a plain wood door. I follow her gaze, just to see if I’m missing something.

  Nope. Door is still plain, light-colored wood.

  “Ruby?” I ask.

  “They were the most awkward dinners of my life!” she bursts, raking her hands through her hair. “Every conversation felt stilted and just . . . just weird. By the end of the second date, I was wondering what on earth we had in common other than both of us being human!” She stands, hands twisting over, under, around each other. “I have to do something. I’m getting the studio ready.”

  She leaves, going into Studio Three. Hannah opens her mouth to speak, but the door closes behind Ruby.

  “She’s not supposed to be in that studio today,” Hannah tells me.

  I let my breath out. “This is not a good development, Hannah. They’re perfect for each other. I know that, you know that.”

  “Maybe they aren’t, Laur. I mean, you just heard Ruby.”

  I give her a look. “Hannah. Have you not been paying any attention these last few weeks? There’s obviously a definite like there. He kissed her, for Pete’s sake!”

  “Seems kind of hopeless,” Hannah says dolefully.

  “Okay.” I brush my hands together businesslike. “We need a plan of action.”

  She stares at me blankly. “A plan of action?”

  “For Nick and Ruby.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I stand and pull a notebook from my backpack. “You are a novice at this, aren’t you?”

  I open to the first page in the book and uncap a pen from Hannah’s desk.

  “First, we must put them on outings that make them see the deeper person sooner.”

  “Such as?”

  “Oh, you know. White-water rafting, serving in homeless shelters, mountain climbing, or lawn projects.”

  Hannah frowns. “I can’t see Ruby rafting or climbing a mountain.”

  “Hey, I couldn’t see Ruby smiling, and look at her now. I’ll research what’s around here during my lunch break.”

  I write: Deeper dates=Deeper relationship.

  “Next, we must push them to settle quickly. Mostly Nick at this point. He needs to recognize that Ruby is the perfect one for him.”

  Hannah covers her eyes. “I don’t want to know.”

  I chew on the pen cap. “Who do we know who’s Nick’s age, a good actress, and sneaky?”

  “I’m new in town, remember?”

  “Well, keep an eye out.”

  Find the Other Woman.

  “And finally, we need to convince both of them that they are extr
emely lonely. Hannah, you’ll have to figure out what kind of ring Ruby wants. I’ll coach Nick on proposal methods.”

  “Remind me why we’re doing this?”

  I put my pen down. “I’m leaving in three weeks for a month-long fishing trip. I would like to know my two dear friends are going to be happy before I leave.”

  Hannah gives me a Just-How-Dumb-Do-You-Think-I-Am? look.

  “And besides.” I shrug. “It’s fun.”

  “Aha!” she gloats. “There’s the real reason. I need to make a note. Find a guy and marry him during the month of March. I’m scared to death you’ll turn and do this to me.”

  “Hey! That just gave me an idea.”

  “Lauren Holbrook!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Did you know there’s not one river around here that has white-water rafting in January?” I say this as I walk back into the lobby after photographing an older couple.

  Hannah looks up at me from her desk, twirling a pen. “I did not know that.”

  “And it’s too cold to hike in the mountains right now?” I lean on her desk. “And, I called the two homeless shelters in the area and neither one of them needs any help for the next three months.”

  Hannah grins. “Is this the end of Ruby and Nick?” she says in an announcer tone. “Tune in next week to find out!”

  “Is she here, by the way?”

  “Nope. She ran an errand.”

  Brandon comes in the door, humming. “I have that dumb song from that stupid commercial stuck in my head,” he says to me. He smiles at Hannah.

  “Hey, Brandon, you need to sign these checks.” She starts scrambling through the papers clogging her desk.

  “We need to find a dolphin they can save together,” I say, staring out at the big, chunky, perfectly proportioned snowflakes filtering down from a gorgeous gray sky. “Or a country they can protect together. Something like that.”

  Hannah purses her lips as she thinks. “They could adopt a street.”

  Brandon scrawls on the last check. “What’s going on?”

  I roll my eyes at Hannah’s suggestion. “Very funny. Don’t we have any orphans who need help? Or a marriage-minded mother who needs to be satisfied?”

  “Remind me on that last reference?”

  “Pride and Prejudice.”

  “Oh right, right, right.” She takes the checks from Brandon. “You have the worst handwriting in the history of the free world,” she tells him.