Pride, Prejudice and the Perfect Match

by Marilyn Brant

  “Hey, hey. What’s up, Cuz?”

  Bingley’s too cheerful voice at the door was an unhappy reminder that Will’s clinic project was in shambles. Maybe, between his own large donation and some new avenues of funding, he’d be able to raise the minimum capital by Christmas instead of by his original spring deadline. He looked at his calendar. Not that he didn’t know the date. Today was Mother’s Day.

  “Don’t you know how to knock?” Will glared at his cousin.

  Bingley shrugged. “What’s the fun in that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe respect could be fun for a change. Or privacy. Or courtesy. Or any of the qualities you lack.” He knew he was spoiling for a fight and, fair or unfair, there was no one on the planet he wanted to punch out more than Bingley at the moment.

  His cousin leveled one of his rare worried looks his way. “Um, well, maybe this is a bad time.”

  “Damn right it’s a bad time. What d’ya want, Bingley? Come in here to gloat?”

  “No. Just checking in. See how you’re doing.” He squinted those green eyes at him. “You okay, Will?”

  Bingley almost never called him Will. He must look like he was on death’s door for his golf-playing, bet-making, ultra-casual cousin to resort to formalities.

  “I’m fine,” he said, opening a drawer, pulling out a comb and slamming the drawer shut. “And a happy freaking birthday to you.”

  Bingley flinched. “Alrighty. I’m going.” He took two steps back and grabbed the doorknob.

  Will sighed. “Wait. Bingley, stop. Please.”

  His cousin paused. “Sorry I bothered you.”

  “Nah, forget it. I apologize. I’m just in a really crummy mood.” And it wouldn’t take a genius to guess why. Will held out his hand to Bingley. “Are we okay, man? Can I buy you a meal or something for your birthday?” He glanced at his watch, which still looked blurry through his sleep-deprived eyes. “I mean later. Sometime after noon?”

  Bingley grasped his palm none too gently. “We’re okay, and I’ll take a rain check on the food.” His cousin’s gaze darted around the room then returned to Will’s face. “Have you seen your Love-Match Lady lately? Got any more cute Polaroid snapshots?”

  Will’s blood started pumping as if he’d had to single-handedly deal with a multiple-car-crash trauma instead of merely a few questions about an ex-girlfriend. “No, on both counts,” he said, hoping Bingley would knock it off. Couldn’t he read the signs? Know just from looking at him that things with his “Love Match” were over?

  “Well, when am I going to meet her?” his cousin asked, clearly lacking even garden-variety intuition.

  “Never.”

  Bingley stared blankly at him, mocking him just by the way he stood. So curious. So carefree. “What do you mean—never? You were so serious about her. I thought she might’ve been The One for you. And today’s the final day, you know.”

  “I know,” he muttered. He turned away before his cousin could grow some empathy and read the pain that surely radiated off his face. “I thought she might’ve been The One, too, but we broke up.”

  “Why?”

  Now here was a question that, despite the obvious facts, Will still couldn’t answer to his satisfaction. “She wasn’t who she said she was,” he said. How else could he explain?

  “Were you who you said you were?” Bingley asked him.

  “What?”

  “Were you, when you started all this Love Match stuff, the person you presented yourself to be?”

  “Well, I didn’t lie about my identity,” Will said. But, upon a little reflection, he amended this. “So, okay, I didn’t exactly put my reasons for dating on the table right away. I was, I suppose, kind of dishonest, too, but—”

  Bingley had the audacity to laugh. “You can’t be ‘kind of’ dishonest, Cuz. You’re either telling the truth or you’re lying. No real in between there.”

  Now where had he heard those oh-so-wise words before? He ran the comb through his hair in seven vicious strokes, grimacing when he hit the tangles. “It would never have worked anyway,” he said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Why are you so damn curious?”

  Bingley lifted his shoulders then let them drop. “Because I care, Cuz. Even if you don’t think so.”

  Will gave him a long, hard stare. Bingley seemed sincere, but this didn’t completely override Will’s suspicion of his cousin or his depression at losing the woman he’d come to love. He studied the floor tiles and sighed.

  “Why wouldn’t it have worked?” Bingley asked again.

  “Because we started on the wrong foot. We both had secrets we didn’t share. We both played games with the other’s time and emotions. And we didn’t stay in the ring long enough to battle it all out.” He threw his hands up in the air before clenching them into fists. “It can’t be fixed, so I lose your bet, and you don’t owe me a red cent. Happy now?”

  Bingley shook his head. “Wouldn’t say so, Cuz.”

  Will wanted to bury his head in his palms and weep like a two year old but, of course, he didn’t. Grown men couldn’t back down and cry. Not even when they were hurt. He gritted his teeth. “What would you say?”

  “I’d say I’m confused on something. I’ve got a question.”

  “Well, what?”

  “You look like you did the day your first patient died. Like you’d really lost something precious to you that couldn’t be replaced or retrieved.” Bingley shed his jester-like enthusiasm for a whole minute and looked him in the eye, dead serious. “Which was the biggest loss—the money for the clinic or the love of the girl?”

  “They’re both losses, Bingley.”

  “No. I need a rank order on this one.”

  Will hung his head, his heart having answered the question in an instant, but his fool brain still struggling to come up with the right way to explain it.

  “I love my clinic project,” he began. “It’s an idea I conceived, and I’m this close to bringing it to completion.” He brought his index finger and thumb to within a millimeter of each other. “It’d be a dream come true to have a place where low-income moms could go to find affordable healthcare for themselves and their kids. I’d finally feel I’d done something important in my life. You understand that, Bingley, right?”

  “Right.”

  Will traced his eyebrows with his fingertips. “But…the woman I met brought a new dream to me. I—I didn’t expect that. Any of it. But she just got to me, you know?”

  “I know,” Bingley said.

  “And now I can’t get rid of these feelings. She unfroze me or something, but the damage is done. I can’t refreeze what she’d thawed.”

  His cousin grinned. “So, let me get this straight. Though the clinic’s critically important to you, a part of you just can’t help but be devastated by the loss of this woman—”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘devastated.’ I mean I don’t look that bad, do I?”

  Bingley raised a dubious eyebrow.

  Oh, great. That was all he needed. His cousin thinking he was a basket case over some cute chick. Okay, beautiful, warm-hearted woman. With, he shouldn’t forget, a truckload of lies alongside her and a six-year-old kid hanging out at home. And, hell, even if he was turning into a basket case, why couldn’t he put her out of his mind for five lousy minutes?

  “So,” Bingley said, “between the money or Beth, you’d have chosen Beth—because you love her?”

  Will nodded. It was senseless to deny it, and his cousin looked smugly satisfied by the news. But something odd tugged at Will’s unfocused mind. He tapped his forehead a few times before realization came flooding in.

  “Hey,” he said to Bingley, “how’d you know her name was Beth?”

  ELEVEN

  “Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.” Will stomped into his mother’s feng-shui-perfect house a few hours later and held out a huge bouquet of wildflowers. Less cliché than roses, he decided. “I figured I’d better come over now if I wanted to
see you. Bingley told me you were headed out for the evening.”

  “I am?” She admired the flowers, put them in a crystal vase.

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Aren’t I what?” She returned to her chair to fiddle with the stitches on her latest embroidery. A vegetable cornucopia, it looked like. She tugged on the green thread for one of the tiny peppers. It snapped, and the split end hung limply from her needle. “Darn it all,” she mumbled.

  “Aren’t you going out tonight?” He strode over to her, covering her shaking hand with his. “What’s going on, Mom? Did Bingley get his facts wrong again?”

  She smiled wanly at him. “Bingley. Who knows what that boy was thinking? He probably just wanted to slip away from you and thought I’d make a good distraction. And, no, I’m not going anywhere unless you’re planning to take me out to dinner or, better yet, to lunch in a half hour.”

  “It’s a date,” he said. Then, squeezing her fingers a little tighter, he whispered, “Please let me know what I can do for you. You’ve got me worried.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Have some tea with me.”

  He nodded and strolled outside onto the “English garden.” He tossed his exhausted body in one of the sturdy, floral-cushioned patio chairs and closed his eyes.

  He’d been on the verge of doing it all. Of accomplishing the once impossible task of beating the system and getting medical aid to those who needed it most. No young mother, no little child, would have been left wanting on his watch, that was for sure.

  He opened his eyes again, glared at a few chipmunks who dared to scamper too close to his feet and studied his mom through the screen door as she busied herself with tea-making in the kitchen. She seemed out of sorts today. Then again, so was he.

  “Herbal Red Raspberry?” she called out.

  “Sure, thanks.” He thought of Bingley’s admission of meeting Beth and wished for a triple shot of espresso along with the tea.

  Mom brought it out to him a few minutes later—caffeine-free, unfortunately. “So, I haven’t heard you talk about your lovely lady friend, Charlotte. How’s she doing?” His mother’s blue eyes had turned so bright and hopeful on him, his heart sank like a boulder all over again.

  He took a deep breath and a sip of weak tea. “Well, Mom,” he said. “First of all, her name’s Beth—not Charlotte. She didn’t tell me her real name until…recently.”

  His mom looked taken aback for a second, then she became very still. “Did she have a reason for withholding that information?”

  Will thought about it. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose she did. She also withheld the little tidbit about having a six-year-old son.”

  Her sharp blue eyes scanned his face. “Oh.”

  “That’s all you’re gonna say? Oh? C’mon, Mom. Time for some parental words of wisdom here.”

  His mother shrugged. “What’s there to say? I know how you feel about us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Us. Single mothers. We frighten you. You’ve got issues with us and with the whole complex relationship. You want your interactions with women to be direct. Streamlined. Clear-cut. Other men’s children throw all that off kilter. Everything becomes scattered and confusing. It’s hard work.”

  “Oh. That’s what you mean.”

  She stood up and hugged him. “My baby boy. Just look at you now. So grown up and yet—”

  “And yet what?”

  “And yet you’re still trying to fix my life, not your own. You’re still trying to correct the past by manipulating the present. You might be able to get away with doing that in some areas. But not in any long-term relationships.”

  So, what was his mom trying to say? That he was responsible for wrecking his short-lived romance? That he was making of fool of himself? No newsflash there.

  He explained Beth’s background. The fact that she was going to be a social worker instead of a child psychologist. He told his mom about the research she was doing for her class and the humiliating way he discovered the truth. “Now that you know the whole story, give me some honest, well-informed advice.”

  A half smile played on her lips. She picked up her china cup and traced the patterns on the side. “Charlotte. Beth. Whatever her name is…I liked her. A lot. And she liked me, I could tell. She’s not one of those condescending gals, so sure she’s got all the answers just because her skin’s still smooth and nothing on her body is drooping yet. She has respect for older people. You can just feel it. Someone like that can’t be all bad.”

  “I didn’t say I thought she was bad, I meant—”

  “And she liked you, too,” Mom insisted. “A mother can tell these things.” She grinned openly. “And you, dear heart, liked her. Quite a bit, if I’m not mistaken.”

  He didn’t bother with denials. He didn’t have any. He just sighed loudly and hoped his mom would interpret it as exasperation not evasion.

  But Mom was too good at this game. She touched his cheek with her fingertip, gentle compassion evident in her caress. “Oh, honey,” she whispered. “If the good things, the big ones, are there between you, don’t waste your time hashing over insignificant differences. Keep your focus on what matters most. Forget the rest and enjoy being with one another.”

  She closed her eyes, and Will could see the signs of aging taking place on her cheeks and chin. Neither of them were getting any younger, but he could feel how drained she was today. He hoped if his mother ever required a social worker’s help in her life again, that person would be someone genuinely empathetic. Someone like Beth, he realized with a start.

  But what kind of person did he need? Was it the type of woman he’d always thought he was looking for? Or was it Beth?

  ***

  Beth wrestled with her luncheon taco, trying to keep the beef and the diced tomatoes from plopping out of its shell. Jane sat cross-legged on the carpet next to her, struggling with a similar problem, a piece of shredded lettuce clinging to her chin.

  Jane licked her lips and swiped at her face with a napkin. “So, Dan seems to think you’ll be a shoo-in when it comes to getting the board’s approval, right?”

  “He said he’s never yet been turned down when the person up for review was someone he’d personally recommended.” Beth’s heart pounded and her hands shook with excitement just remembering her boss’s words. “He said if there weren’t any problems with my grades or my graduation, that I could pretty much count on having a full-time job in June.”

  Jane gave her a sideways hug. “That’s awesome news.”

  She nodded. “Charlie will be in school all day once September hits, so I’ll be able to work almost eight-hour days without the need for childcare. And no tuition payments. In another year or so, I should have enough saved up to move to a bigger apartment or maybe even buy a new car. Well, a new used car, but still…”

  “You’re on your way, baby.”

  “I hope so. Gosh, Jane, it’s been such a long road. I can hardly believe—” She paused and took another bite of taco. It was too difficult to explain.

  “You can hardly believe what?”

  “That I made it through this on my own.”

  “Yeah,” Jane said.

  Beth caught a flicker of something she couldn’t immediately identify in her friend’s eye. Was it…hurt? And she thought about all the meals—like this one—that Jane had brought over in the past few years. About all the times Jane babysat for Charlie while she ran an important errand. Or even a not-so-important errand. About all the help and encouragement Jane gave her when the struggles of being a single mom were overwhelming. Big things, little things. Jane was there for them all.

  “You know,” Beth said, “that’s not exactly true, is it?”

  “What’s not true?”

  “That I made it through on my own.” She nodded in the direction of Charlie, who was slurping an orange soda across the room and adding a few finishing touches to the special Mother’s Day drawing he’d made for her. “Bringing him up
. I wasn’t alone. You were as much a part of our family as if you’d really been Charlie’s auntie.”

  A few tears glistened in Jane’s eyes, but Beth saw her blink them away. “Aw, Beth—”

  “Shhh. You know it’s true.” She threw an arm around Jane’s shoulders and squeezed. “I owe a lot of people for their time and their help and their love. Mrs. Moratti’s been amazing. Dan, Abby and Robby are always so supportive at work. But most of all you, Jane. You’re the one who got me through the really tough times. You’re the one who made me laugh. I’m so lucky you’re my friend.”

  “We made it through together,” Jane whispered. “After all, I don’t have family around here anymore either, and I never had a sister.” She sniffled and wiped the bottom of her nose with her crumpled napkin. “Always wanted one.” Jane gave her a fierce hug then began humming the Sister Sledge tune “We Are Family,” which made Beth giggle.

  “You are such a goofball,” Beth said.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Jane’s eyes twinkled, but then she turned serious. “Look, you should be proud of what you’ve accomplished. Raising a son as great as that little monster.” She pointed to Charlie and grinned. “Pete doesn’t know what he missed out on.”

  “I know.” But Beth wondered about Charlie, as she always did. Did he have an inkling of what he was missing out on by not having a dad? “Thanks for sharing this Mother’s Day with me.”

  “You’re very welcome. So, what’s this week look like, schedule-wise?”

  “Well,” Beth said, “I’ve got my final visit at Mrs. Hammond’s on Friday at two. Then I’ll be officially done with my practicum.”

  “Super! We’ll have to celebrate,” Jane said. “Will Charlie be with Mrs. Moratti the whole afternoon?”

  Beth wrinkled her nose. “He will if she gets back in time. She’s got a dentist appointment late morning on Friday to have a crown put in. If she can’t get out of there before I need to leave, I’ll go in to Mrs. Hammond’s over the weekend instead.”