Little Matchmakers

by Jennifer Greene

  “That sounds terrific.”

  “Oh. One more thing. I figured you might want to know. The washing machine started shaking all over.”

  “What?”

  Petie turned back around. “It’s no biggie. I shut it off. I just thought I should tell you. It was shaking and shooting suds all over the place. It was really funny for a couple of minutes.”

  Garnet called for Mary Lou to take over, grabbed a phone book to get her repair man’s number and hit the back door aiming for home. The washing machine was old. She’d gotten it used to start with, but it had been an angel…mostly. Every machine got crabby once in a while, didn’t it?

  She sprinted into the laundry room, gasped, then reached for her cell phone. It wasn’t in her shorts pocket. Wasn’t on the counter. She couldn’t find her purse, but she was pretty sure she hadn’t left it there. “Pete!” she called, and started searching for him.

  As she should have expected, he was holed up in front of the computer with a banana peel and a giant glass of milk next to him. He didn’t respond to her voice, just raised the cell phone so she could see it.

  “In the next life, I’m going to remember everything and you’re going to be the one to lose stuff.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She’d just dialed the number when she noticed a battered Grand Am parked at the house. Sally’s car. Sally, who wouldn’t be parking at the house on a workday for any reason Garnet could imagine. But then she saw Sally’s face in the doorway. Dropped the phone. Forgot the phone. Just rushed to bring Sally inside.

  Sally wasn’t crying. Garnet had never seen her cry. But this time the right side of Sally’s face was swollen to the point of breaking skin, her right eye invisible, her lip cracked, and she was walking as if every step caused her pain.

  “I’ll be taking you to the hospital,” Garnet said swiftly and sharply.

  “No.”

  “And I’m calling the police.”

  “No.”

  “Sally, I’m not talking to you as an employer. I’m talking to you as a friend. I’m not listening to ‘no.’ Not again. Never again.”

  “That’s why I came here.” Sally rested an arm on the counter, as if she needed the support. “My kids are at my sister’s. They’re safe. But you told me about this shelter before. But you know my car. He knows my car. So I was hoping you might drive me. Garnet, I know it’s a workday. That the shop’s open. That Mary Lou could tick off any and every customer if she has a chance. But I thought…maybe I could just stay here until after the shop closes. I could drive the car behind the greenhouses, way out of sight. I don’t want to put you or Petie in danger. I just—”

  “Quit. We’ll go right now. Although I still think you should see a doctor first.”

  “Nothing’s broken.” Sally leaned hard against the counter. “Believe me, I’d know.”

  Garnet grabbed her van keys, told Petie where she was going, ran back to the shop to tell a mightily annoyed Mary Lou that she had to be gone and helped Sally into the van. She knew where to take her, because two years ago she’d talked to a policewoman when she’d been trying to track down help for Sally that time. Sally had just never been willing to take advantage before.

  The place was halfway to Greenville, dodging traffic all the way. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  Sally had her head leaned back, eyes closed. She’d tried to put on the seat belt, but couldn’t. “No point. Nothing to tell I hadn’t told before.”

  “Okay. But I need to tell you…I’m proud of you.”

  “Look at me. Haven’t done one thing in my life that I can be proud of.”

  “Yeah, you have. You’re rescuing one of the best women I know.”

  “Oh, shut up, Garnet. You’re always telling me crap like that.”

  “You can count on it,” Garnet promised her.

  The address she had wasn’t for the specific shelter, but only a transfer point, because the true shelter location was kept secret. Obviously that only made sense, but it was still hard for Garnet to just drop her friend there, carry in the small satchel Sally had taken with her and give her a careful hug.

  “I hate deserting you in the middle of the busy season,” Sally said.

  “And I’ll miss you. But you’re totally doing the right thing, and you know it.”

  Driving back to Plain Vanilla, though, Garnet had to gulp. Handling the shop with just Mary Lou for help was going to be beyond challenging. Obviously she could hire someone new, but even if the perfect person showed up, it would take time and training to get them up to speed.

  She zoomed back into the yard by 1:00 p.m., saw the crowd of customers, saw Mary Lou with her hands on her hips arguing with one of them…and waded into the swarm. Mary Lou barked that she was taking lunch, and galloped toward the back of the shop where she could work without having to talk to anyone—her favorite thing. And Garnet’s favorite thing, besides working with the herbs, was being with the customers, but she couldn’t catch a free minute until almost three.

  Then she remembered the crisis with the washing machine. Dialed the repair number while she was hiking toward the house to find out how Pete was faring. The number rang three times before a man’s voice answered, soft and low.

  “Hey. I almost didn’t answer, but then I saw your number on the screen. Glad you called.”

  “Tucker?”

  His voice lost some of that soft, low sexy stuff. “Who’d you think you were calling?”

  “Arthur. Darn it. I’m sorry, I—”

  “Wait a minute. Who is Arthur?”

  “Not like that, Tucker. And I’m sorry times a million. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Still today. Promise. But I have to go.” She hung up. Mentally kicked herself. Then looked up the real number for Arthur and reached him, and although he didn’t think he could come until Thursday, at least he was scheduled—so she could turn her mind back to more immediate crises.

  Sally had a whiteboard in Plain Vanilla’s back room, with her schedule of jobs…like the thirty-five lavender and rose-hip sachets that were ordered for tomorrow.

  Tomorrow.

  Then there was the recipe book—Garnet’s idea, but Sally was almost finished putting it together. The goal was to have it on sale in the shop by next week. They’d advertised.

  Garnet figured she’d manage to get that done the same day cows flew.

  “Look.” Mary Lou pounced the minute she showed up in back. “You know I’ll do anything you ask. But people don’t like me. And I don’t like them. And I can have the front four acres mowed in less than an hour, so why don’t you just stay here and I’ll pretend to be actually useful for the rest of the day.”

  “Okay.” What else could she say?

  By the time she closed the shop at six, she was lightheaded and exhausted. She still had to handle bills, check on the vanilla, see if she could find some help to take Sally’s place. Pete was prowling around the kitchen.

  “Hey,” he said. “I’ve still got your bacon and peanut butter sandwich. You didn’t show up for lunch.”

  “Couldn’t,” she admitted. “What do you feel like for dinner?”

  “Burgers and fries.”

  “How about Cordon Bleu and some noodles?” She added, “But I need to call Tucker before I get started—”

  “I already talked to Mr. Tucker.”

  “You did. Why?”

  “Because I left my hat at his house. You know. My Duke University hat. He said he found it. Then I told him about the washing machine turning into a volcano. He laughed. Then said he had a big group just showing up, so I talked to Will. He wants to spend his money at Best Buy. His dad said it was okay about him getting two kittens, he said. But I think I should be able to keep two then, too.”

  “No.”

 
“Well, at least one.”

  “No.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Pete assured her, using the time-honored adult voice that meant he wasn’t about to give in.

  She still wanted to talk to Tucker…badly, badly wanted to talk with Tucker. But there was dinner and then a help-wanted ad to create, and then there were the bills. Two were overdue. Not because she couldn’t pay them, but because she just kept forgetting. Pete hung out for a few minutes, wanting to tell her what the kittens had been up to today, wanting to explain a game that was completely over her head, but she loved listening to him and couldn’t possibly cut her son short when he wanted to talk.

  Finally, Petie wore down. She brewed a fresh pot of coffee and parked in front of the stack of bills and her computer and ledgers. She liked bookkeeping on a par with poison ivy, but she tucked a leg under her and settled down. The sun dropped. She turned on a lamp. The mother cat wandered in, brushed against her leg, settled down with a noisy purr.

  When the phone rang, she jumped, then grabbed it. “Tucker,” she began…but it wasn’t Tucker.

  “It’s me, honey.”

  “Dad! How terrific for you to call. How’s everything going?” She twisted back, cocked a bare leg on the desk, smiling. Her mom stopped in and called all the time, but she rarely had dad-time anymore.

  “Your mom got on me. Said you and I were overdue a chat.”

  “We are! I’m so glad you called!” But her exuberance slowly faded as her dad continued on.

  “Your mother said there was a new man in your life. Said he came from a good family of doctors. Lots of heritage in that MacKinnon family name.”

  “Yes. I guess there is,” she said slowly. She squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to hear more.

  “Relieved to hear you’ve got a good man on the hook, honey. You’ve had a hard time finding your way. Your sisters both had it easier. I always felt your struggles were my fault.”

  “Nothing was your fault.”

  “I failed to protect you.”

  “I didn’t need—”

  “Now, honey, I know you’re from a different generation. But some things really haven’t changed since the beginning of time, not for men and women. You fell so hard for Johnny. Way too young. I should have been paying attention.”

  “Dad, trust me. No one and nothing could have stopped me from doing anything.”

  “Well, I think I could have. I think I should have. Teenagers just aren’t old enough to realize that even one mistake can be serious, alter the path of your life forever.”

  Her throat clogged. Damned if she was going to cry. “I know I didn’t take the life path you wanted me to, but honestly, I’m fine.”

  “Of course you’re fine. You’re beautiful and strong and a wonderful mother. But if this man is the financial prospect that your mother says—well, I’m just saying, be careful, honey. Don’t blow it. Your sisters so easily found their place in the sun. Now you’ve finally got your shot.”

  When Garnet hung up, initially she felt the same response she always felt after dealing with her family. She’d failed them. They all believed she didn’t come close to measuring up to the woman she could have been. They never said they were ashamed of her, but it was there in every conversation, soft and sneaky and framed in kind, loving words.

  That knee-jerk response faded this time. Garnet wasn’t positive as to why she didn’t buy in this time, but she feared it was something to do with Tucker. And even though she was more tired than a whipped puppy, she knew she’d never sleep until she’d thought this through.

  * * *

  Tucker jammed the keys in the truck, slammed on the lights, slapped the gearshift into Drive and aimed down the mountain.

  Hey. Garnet had every right to have dozens of male friends. There was no reason in the universe she couldn’t have a special friend named Arthur.

  It’s not as if Tucker had put a ring on her finger. No, they hadn’t discussed commitment—but he really thought she got it. That they were two halves of a whole. That they had an irreplaceable connection with each other.

  That—just like the corny fairy tales—the earth actually moved when they touched. When they just looked at each other. And for damn sure, when they made love.

  Two spots of light showed on the side of the road. A buck. Tucker wanted to get to her fast, but he immediately slowed down. He’d never been an emotional driver before. He’d never had an angry temperament. And he wasn’t mad now.

  He was just a little…testy.

  Once he got there, he’d find her, initiate a tactful, genial discussion. Maybe start with a joke. Just casually mention the name Arthur. Convey that he was cool about her knowing this Arthur guy. A total no-sweat.

  His cell buzzed. His newer truck had the super no-hands feature for cell calls. Will’s voice came on, full of cheer. “Everything’s totally fine, Dad. I talked to Pete. He’s fine, too. I’m fine. He’s fine. Everybody’s fine.”

  “Huh? You’re sounding mighty weird.”

  “Oh, no. I just wanted to tell you not to worry. Pete’s already in bed at his house. I’m going to bed right now.” A fake yawn bellowed through the cell line. “Man, I’m really beat. Pete said he was, too.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing. I was just calling to tell you that I’m fine, that I’m going to sleep this very second. That I’ll call Uncle Ike if I need anything. But I won’t. So if you’re gone a while, it’s a big no-sweat. It’s a big no-sweat for Pete, too.”

  “Is there a bad connection here? Where’s my son? Because whomever I’m talking to isn’t making a lick of sense. I’ll be home inside of an hour, like I told you.”

  “Right, Dad.” His son clicked off. Tucker shook his head in bafflement, but not for long. Will might be having a demented moment, but in every way that mattered, he was fine. Tucker needed to concentrate on the crisis at hand.

  No one else was driving the mountain road but him. The truck lights kept finding critter eyes. Raccoon. Deer. Damned if there wasn’t a cougar in the brush at the ridge. The variety of wildlife would have fascinated him—on another night.

  Tonight there was only one thing on his mind.

  He pulled into her drive, dropping his lights to dim, realizing abruptly that the shop, the house—everything—was lights-off black. No surprise. It was after eleven. He was the only one so revved up and wide-awake that he’d never even glanced at his watch before taking off.

  His heart thudding, he slowly reversed…but then caught a pale glow of light in the distance. Her greenhouses and shade houses were all shut down—except for the far one, her precious vanilla greenhouse. So someone was up…and that someone had to be Garnet.

  He parked, sprinted toward the greenhouse in the dark, knocked on the external door. It wasn’t locked. And when no one immediately responded, he just opened the door and stepped in.

  At first, he just saw the lush rain forest, green on green, the place dominated by loamy, rich scents and the lushness of growth. Garnet’s head popped up in the middle of all that jungle…and just like that, his heart settled down.

  Until that instant, he didn’t know how desperately he needed to see her. How much wasn’t right, could never be right again, unless he was with her.

  Her hair was a tangled mess, kerchiefed to keep away from her face. She had a smudge of dirt on her cheek, another on a bare shoulder. She was just wearing a camisole, nothing underneath, maybe because it was warm in here, maybe because she never expected to see anyone anyway. But when she popped to her feet, the startled expression on her face changed immediately when she spotted him.

  The look in her eyes was lush with yearning. Sharp with fear. Liquid with love.

  “I was just driving by,” he said, “and I thought I’d stop in, maybe say hi, ask you about Art
hur.”

  “Arthur?” she asked bewilderedly.

  “Yeah. You know. The Arthur you were trying to reach when you called me by mistake this afternoon? I was just wondering…well, what you thought of him. How long you’ve known him. Is he a good friend. That kind of thing.”

  “Well…” She dusted her hands on the back of her shorts, then waded her way through the thick, fragrant greenery like Tarzan’s Jane ambling through the jungle. She looked so like a nymph. His nymph. “I’ve known Arthur from the time I moved here. Pete was a baby then. I didn’t have much. Bought a used stove. It ran twice before shorting out. A neighbor told me to call him.”

  Tucker just stood there, listening, so she went on.

  “Arthur took a look, told me to throw the stove out, and not to buy any more used appliances without his approval first. He came back that same day with a horrible-looking olive-green stove that ran perfectly for a good five years. Never charged me a dime. I’ve always called him if I had a fix-it type problem. Like the washing machine today.” She shook her finger. “It’s not what you think.”

  He was getting that impression, but not totally. It was hard to abandon a worry that had kidnapped his heart most of the day. “What’s not what I think?” God, he was starting to talk like her. A bad sign.

  “Arthur can be a little—how can I put this delicately?—scary. His hair’s stark white, long and wild, and he has all these scars. Some on his face and arms. He doesn’t see real well out of his one eye, and you can tell he’s got arthritis, but if you give him any sympathy, he’ll bark your head off. Once you get past that, though…” She cocked her head, clearly conveying that she was unsure how this conversation had come up. “If you need some kind of repairman, I’ve got his number in the house. It’s in the yellow pages, too, I just—”

  “That’s okay. I don’t think I’ll need it quite this minute.” He sank onto the top of a metal stool. Good thing she had that metal stool by the sinks, because he’d likely have fallen flat in the dirt otherwise. The relief flooding him seemed to have turned his bones to jelly.

  “You really needed to know this at eleven o’clock at night?”