Miss Match: a Lauren Holbrook novel

by Erynn Mangum

  I walk back out of Studio Two. Hannah balances the phone between her shoulder and her ear, typing briskly as she talks.

  I sneak down the back hallway to Brandon’s office and open the door. Brandon is at his desk, reading a few papers in a folder.

  “What’s up, Nutsy? And how’s Ruby?” He leans back in his chair, closing the folder and smiling at me.

  Odd. The guppies must have passed through my system.

  “She’s fine. She was just upset about her dinner with Nick.” I tell Brandon the story and he tsks.

  “Tough luck. Has he called her yet?”

  “Who knows? She was at her neighbor’s when I went and got her, and apparently she turned her cell phone off.”

  He yanks papers out of the way as I take a seat on his desk, suddenly feeling very tired. And it is only eleven o’clock.

  I sigh.

  “What’s wrong, Nutsy?”

  “Hmm? Oh. Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that. I saw Ryan was here. He worried about Ruby?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I fiddle with the glass paperweight Laney gave him for graduation. What is the use for a paperweight? Nothing. I have never used a paperweight in my life. Especially a glass one with some kind of blue liquidy stuff inside. Laney should have just given him a picture frame. Just as useless, but at least you can then have some faces looking back at you.

  “Laur?”

  Maybe I should give Brandon a picture frame. I could put the cute picture of the two of us in second grade standing by the swings in there. He’d like it. You can use a frame just as easy as a paperweight to hold papers down.

  “Laurie?”

  It would have to be a wooden frame because Brandon’s notorious for knocking things over. The glass paperweight has been spared thus far, but I’m not holding my breath on that one.

  “Lauren!”

  I startle, nerves making the jump to light speed. “What?”

  Brandon stares at me with the wrinkle between his eyebrows, his arms crossed. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Why’d you yell at me?”

  He half-laughs. “That was the third time I’d said your name!”

  “I didn’t hear you. Speak up next time.” I take a deep breath and reassure my nerves the place isn’t on fire.

  He watches me fiddle with the paperweight and grins.

  I put the paperweight down. “What?”

  His self-satisfied expression is seriously bugging me. “You tell me, Nutsy,” he taunts.

  “There is nothing to tell,” I say adamantly.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “There isn’t!”

  “Remember who you’re talking to, Laurie.” He lifts one eyebrow at me. “It’s me. Brandon. Lifelong best friend, remember?”

  I’m reaching for my collar. “Is it hot in here or what?”

  “It’s not hot.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “No. It’s not.” His eyes narrow. “Are you going through menopause early?”

  “Maybe that’s it.” I exhale.

  He leans back farther, shaking his head. “Holy cow,” he mutters, drawing the words out, grinning like a fool. “Hannah was right.”

  “About what?”

  “You.” His smile gentles. “You really like him, don’t you?”

  I rub my hand down my face. Bite my lip. Let my breath out. My stomach now feels like I swallowed a canister of open safety pins. I look at Brandon and half-laugh, half-sigh. “Oh boy.”

  He grins outright. Reaches over and takes my hand. “He’s a great guy, Laurie.”

  I shake my head and yank my hand away. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this!” I jump off his desk, pacing the floor.

  “Whoa, Laurie, what is going on?”

  “It was just a joke! A hoax! We were just going to pretend to date so maybe Ruby would get a move on it with Nick!”

  Brandon’s expression is pure bewilderment. “You weren’t really dating?” He stares at me, mouth open, tone incredulous.

  “No!” I shout. “At least, not in the beginning. Maybe not even now.” I flounce into one of the chairs in front of his desk and bury my head in my hands. “I don’t know anymore.”

  There’s a long period of silence while my best friend is putting two and two together. I keep my face covered.

  “So you like this guy, but you think he’s just pretending to like you,” Brandon says, his voice filled with an ahhh sound.

  I nod into my hands, miserable.

  Brandon chuckles. I look up.

  “Don’t be so stupid, Laurie. Ryan would have to be blind and deaf not to like you. Relax. Okay? Relax.”

  I take a deep breath. “Yes. Relax. Exactly. That’s what I need to do.”

  He nods. “Good girl.”

  “It’s not like anything could come of this right now, anyway. Right? I mean, I’m leaving for a month soon.” The safety pins are starting to disappear.

  “Right.”

  “So I just need to pull myself together and remember that I am still Lauren Holbrook and I don’t need a guy to be happy.”

  “Very good.”

  “So I’ll just go out there and take pictures and go home and pack my bags without a care or worry in the world.”

  He grins. “Well, packing that attitude could be difficult.”

  I glare at him. Then I smile. Walk around the desk and give him a hug. “Thanks, old friend.” I meet his brown eyes.

  “Anytime, kid.” He chucks my cheek lightly. “Now get out because I need to actually work today.”

  “Work?” I gasp, old self back. “You work back here?”

  “Out, Laurie.”

  “And all this time we thought you sat back here brooding all day.”

  “Laurie.”

  I open his door, smile, and leave.

  Hannah covers the phone with her hand when I come back down the hall. “Hey, Laurie, Lexi on the line. Wanted to make sure you were still on for painting tomorrow.”

  I take the phone from her. “Hey, Lex.”

  “Hi, Baby. How are you doing?”

  “Okay.”

  “Make sure you’re not working too hard.”

  “Heh. Right. What’s up?” I watch a minivan pull into the parking lot.

  “Are we still painting tomorrow? Nate called Ryan, and they’re going to finish the porch.”

  I nod, even though I’m on the phone. “Sure, we can still paint.”

  “Great! I’ll go get it mixed today.”

  “Lex?” A family of five walks through the door.

  “Yeah?”

  I wave the Just-a-Second sign to the family. “Don’t get beige,” I tell her. “Or sandstone, actually. Get like a cream color.”

  “Why?”

  “I was at a woman’s house today who had brown everywhere. Rather spoiled my taste for it.”

  Lexi laughs. “Sure, Sweetie. We can do cream. See you tomorrow morning. Love you, Honey.”

  “Bye, Lex. Love you too.”

  I give the phone back to Hannah.

  “Painting?” she asks coyly as I grab a pen from her desk.

  “Painting,” I affirm.

  “Porch building?”

  “Appointment waiting.” I point to the family. “You guys ready?” I ask.

  Hannah shakes her head as I lead the family into the studio. “You, Lauren Holbrook, are really something else. I’m not sure what. But you’re definitely something.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I finish with my last session at six. Hannah’s desk is empty, and Brandon’s car isn’t in the parking lot. I’m in the middle of the nightly ritual of pulling on my coat, gloves, and scarf and digging my backpack out of the cubby when Ruby opens Studio One’s door and waves good-bye to a cute blond couple who could have been siblings.

  They leave, the door dings, and she huffs, raking her hands through her curls.

  “Engaged,” she mutters, either to me or no one since I’m the only other person still there.


  “Those two?” I ask.

  “Can you believe that?” She sulks, flipping off the light in the studio. “Eighteen and nineteen years old. And engaged.” She sticks her tongue out as she pulls on her coat. “Makes me sick.”

  “They look like they could be from the same mother.”

  Ruby makes a face. “That’s gross, Laurie.”

  “Just stating the facts. Hey.” I shake my gloved finger at her. “Remember what we’re reading in the Romans study. God’s sovereign. You have nothing to envy, Ruby Fair.” She smiles at me. “You heading home?” I ask.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “I don’t know. Dad has a meeting at church tonight.” I smile at Ruby. “Want to go get something to eat?”

  “Sure. Not at Halia’s.” She’s shaking her head vehemently, her hair bouncing.

  “Never again.”

  “Good. Vizzini’s, then?” She takes her keys out of her purse.

  “Let’s carpool.”

  “My car?”

  “Fine.” I follow her out, turning off the front room lights and locking the door behind me.

  Ruby drives a cute little red Honda that, truth be told, could fit in the back end of my Tahoe with the back seats still in the upright and locked position. She unlocks the car and slides in with the graceful talent that comes from years of driving little cars.

  Dad has never owned a little car.

  Neither has Laney, Lexi, or Brandon.

  Even Ryan drives an SUV.

  So my step-and-slide moves are way out of whack.

  “Are you okay?” Ruby asks as I get one foot in the Honda and the other underneath it. My rear end, confused, lands somewhere in the middle and begins chastising my common sense.

  “Fine, fine,” I say with a grunt, lugging myself over the bottom rim of the car door and onto the seat.

  She watches me close my door and turns the key, pressing her lips together in a pitiful attempt to not smile.

  “Go ahead and laugh.”

  She does. Long and loud. “Laurie, that was so funny! When was the last time you rode in a car? Before Kraft Mac ’n Cheese?”

  “Somewhere around there.”

  She drives to Vizzini’s, and ten minutes later we’re seated with menus in front of our noses.

  “I want soup,” she declares.

  “They make good meatball soup.”

  She wrinkles her nose and flips the menu over. “Anything not Italian related?” She reads for a few moments, her mouth moving without words coming out. “Ah!” she suddenly yells and points. “Clam chowder.”

  I’m craving carbs. “Does it come with bread?”

  She checks. “Yeah.”

  “I’m getting it too. And mozzarella sticks.”

  “Yuck, Laur.”

  “Not yuck. Yum.” I close the menu and set my elbows on it purposefully. “Tell me about Nick.”

  She innocently twirls a curl around her finger. “What about Nick?”

  “You like him.”

  She doesn’t deny it. “So?”

  “So he likes you.”

  She shakes her head. “I can see the little cogs clurking in your head, Laurie Holbrook. Lay off.”

  I grin. “Clurking?”

  She sighs. “Great. This is just great. Your word fetish is beginning to rub off on me. Lovely.”

  “So he hasn’t asked you yet?”

  She looks at me blankly. “Asked me what?”

  “To marry him, of course! Good grief, woman.”

  She blushes. Rolls her eyes. Opens and closes her mouth a few times. “Not that it is any of your business, at all, but no, he has not asked me.”

  “Ruby, you need to show more of what you really feel ‘in order to secure him.’”

  “Don’t tell me. Pride and Prejudice?” Her eyebrows angle up.

  I’m very proud of her. “Wow, and the first try!”

  “The English accent usually gives it away.”

  “Take my advice, amiga.”

  She leans forward, mocking my position. “So, Dear Abby, have you asked Ryan how he feels?”

  I trace a picture of a plate of spaghetti on the menu and try playing dumb. “Asked Ryan how he feels about what?”

  Ruby doesn’t buy it. “Nice try.”

  “That’s different,” I protest, looking up at her all-seeing brown eyes. “Nick is going to marry you.”

  She cocks her head. “How do you know?”

  “Because you two were born and bred for each other, that’s how.”

  “Sounds awfully Laura Ingalls Wilder.”

  I lean back in my chair. “Didn’t her aunt marry her uncle?”

  “What?”

  “I think she did. Laura’s mom married Pa, and I think Ma’s sister married Pa’s brother.”

  “Completes the family circle, I suppose. So if Nick and I marry, that would mean Ryan would have to marry Nick’s nonexistent sister.” She grins. “Want to see if Nick’s parents will adopt you?”

  I flip my hair behind my shoulder. “I’m perfectly happy with my father, thank you.”

  She changes the subject. “So middle school Bible study in four days.”

  A sad groan is my answer. “Why am I even starting to teach, Ruby, if I’m leaving after two weeks?”

  “Acclimation. Then you’ll have gotten over the original fear and will be able to share all the revelations you received on the fishing trip.”

  “Such as how to get a Bite of Bass for Breakfast?”

  She nods. “Good alliteration.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I was thinking spiritual revelations, though. Like you pointed out earlier, sovereignty.”

  I’m still thinking. “Or how Praise Perfects Prayer?”

  She laughs then. “Where do you get this?”

  “My mother was said to be a mental case.”

  “I can believe it.”

  Officially in Colossians. I plop my Bible on my lap and grin. I think even if I weren’t a Christian and weren’t falling head over heels for Christ, I’d still love the feel of the pages and the floppiness of the leather.

  “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.”

  Now, that’s a cool thought!

  I wake the next morning to electric guitars, tired and a tad depressed. My second to last Saturday in my own sweet bed, and I have to wake up to an alarm.

  Blegh.

  Dad is at the table when I plod downstairs. The scent of lemongrass tea permeates the kitchen.

  Double blegh.

  He looks up from his paper. He’s fully dressed, belt and everything. “Morning, Honey. You’re helping Lex paint today, right?”

  “Yup.”

  He frowns at my choice of paint clothes. “Laurie,” he starts. Stops.

  I pour my coffee. He’s obviously deciding whether or not to give his grown daughter advice on her clothes.

  “Laurie, isn’t that the sweat outfit Laney gave you for your birthday?” He goes for it.

  I look down at the sky blue velour track pants and matching jacket I’m wearing. “Yeah, my fifteenth birthday.”

  “Still, you really want to get paint on those?”

  I add sugar to the coffee. “I’d rather not get paint on anything.”

  “And you’re wearing your hair down?” Dad’s tsking.

  I swipe it back behind my ear with my left hand, my right hand stirring my sugared and milked coffee. “Planned on it. At least until we start painting. Keeps the cold air off my neck.”

  Dad’s fear of sickness keeps him from arguing with that one.

  I join him at the table. “What are you going to do today?”

  “Lex asked if I wanted to meet you four for lunch.”

  I brighten. “That’d be fun.”

  “Think so?” Dad’s cautious.

  “Yeah. You should come.” I sip my coffee, looking down at the table. “Then you could get to know Ryan a little bit.”

  He fingers his cup of tea. “You like
him, don’t you?” he asks, not looking at me.

  I bite my lip. “Maybe,” I say quietly. I can’t explain it. Ryan’s doing an awfully good job of popping up in my thoughts and prayers lately.

  “Are you going to marry him?” Dad sips his tea, his fingers shaking slightly.

  Poor Dad.

  “Not anytime soon,” I soothe.

  The doorbell rings. I stand. “See you at lunch, Dad.” I kiss the top of his head and go to the front door.

  Ryan is there grinning, holding two take-out cups from Merson’s. I feel myself getting sappy.

  “I like you,” I tell him.

  “Hi there.” He smiles.

  “Hold on a sec.” I turn to get my coat, but he catches my sleeve and hands me one of the cups.

  “For your dad.”

  I give him a look and pop off the lid.

  The aroma makes my eyes water. “You brought my dad lemongrass tea.” I smile, even more syrupy.

  “You should have seen me trying to talk Shawn into making it.”

  I raise my eyebrow, replacing the lid. “Funny?”

  “Hilarious. The man now has his door open trying to get the smell out.”

  I take the tea back to the kitchen and give it to Dad. He inhales and smiles.

  “Nice boy,” he comments.

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Laurie?”

  I stop on my way out. “What’s up, Dad?”

  He lifts his cup. “You can marry him.”

  I blink. “O-okay.”

  Stumbling back to the entry, I find my coat and gloves. Ryan is still outside, holding the other cup and staring at the overgrown rosemary bush by the door, the only thing still green in our yard.

  “Ready?” he asks, handing me the coffee. “Here. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  “Thanks!” I smile and follow him to the truck. He opens the door and I climb in.

  “Hey, Ryan?” I say when he’s safely buckled into the driver’s seat.

  “Hey, Laurie.”

  “Your sister is in love.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Gee, really? Who with?”

  “I think Nick will ask Ruby to marry him.”

  He looks over at me, offering a challenge. “What if I don’t think he’s good enough?”

  “Then you’re a dimwitted numbskull and I’ll have to ask you to pull over so I can get out.”

  He grins. “Why?”

  “Because I’m not allowed to ride with dimwitted numbskulls.”