Little Miss Matchmaker

by Dana Corbit

  Ross raised an eyebrow and waited.

  “Let’s just say I had a rude awakening with that news, but not until after my adoptive parents died.”

  “You didn’t know you were adopted? Oh, sorry, man.”

  The look of pity in Ross’s eyes was the exact reason he hadn’t shared that information with many people until now. “Anyway, if I were that guy, what were you offering to do for him?”

  “I would help him track down a woman who might be his birth mother—the woman whose name is written in a file right in here.” Ross glanced at the bag at his feet.

  The impulse to reach for that bag took Alex by surprise. He didn’t want to know about his biological parents, did he? He’d never wasted any thoughts on those people who didn’t care enough about him to keep him.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to know?”

  Ross lifted the briefcase that possibly held a piece of the puzzle that had become Alex’s life. A puzzle he hadn’t asked for. Didn’t deserve. But there it was.

  “Look, why don’t you think about it?” Ross offered. “In the meantime, I have plenty of other files to work through. If you decide you want the answers, just give me the word, and I’ll use my resources to help you find them.”

  “Thanks. I’ll think about it.” Alex looked up from the briefcase that still tempted him with its information. “I’m sure you could work on some of the other cases for people who’ll appreciate your effort a lot more than I would.”

  “Wouldn’t take much for that.” Ross chuckled. “Hey, you’re one of Eli Cavanaugh’s football buddies, aren’t you? Have you heard anything about Eli’s brother, Ben? He found his birth family not long ago.”

  “I didn’t know, but I’m glad for him, if that’s what he wanted.”

  “It had to be bittersweet for him. Ben found his half siblings, but his biological mother had already passed away.”

  Ross didn’t say more, but his suggestion that Alex shouldn’t wait too long hung in the air between them. Would Alex feel even more betrayed if he finally decided to search for his birth mother only to find her name printed on a headstone? Who would answer his questions then?

  Ross crossed to the fire engine and walked along its length, admiring it. “You know, there might not be anyone who needs to know the truth more than you do.”

  “Maybe not.”

  The topic closed for now, Alex led Ross to the back entrance that faced the parking lot. The two men shook hands once more at the door.

  “Thanks again,” Alex said. “You know you caught me off guard when you said you were a P.I. The minute I saw you, I thought cop. In my line of work I have to trust my instincts, but lately…”

  “Trust those instincts, man. I used to be on the force back in New York.”

  Alex nodded, sensing that kinship that civil servants share. The private investigator left then, closing the door behind him.

  Even after Alex’s explanation, it was clear that Ross still didn’t understand why he would turn his back on the answers when they were right in front of him. Alex didn’t know why he’d even promised to think about letting the P.I. investigate further. Probably just to humor the guy.

  Through the window, Alex watched Ross as he headed to his car. Ross waved before he climbed in and closed the door. Alex didn’t bother waving back. The other guy probably thought he would eventually get in touch with him, his curiosity growing until he had to know the answers. Alex could tell him right now he wouldn’t be calling.

  “Who’s up for foosball?”

  Dinah glanced around the Chestnut Grove Youth Center for any takers, but no one could hear her over the chatter and laughter in the room. Tyler and Dylan just continued capturing enemies in their board game, Tiffany and Gina sat mesmerized by the animated movie they probably knew by heart and Jeremy and Billy wrestled on the couch.

  With all the chaos, Dinah didn’t hear her mother’s approach until Naomi Fraser touched her on the arm, startling her.

  “Here, try this.” The redhead pressed a child’s-style, wireless microphone into her daughter’s hand, mischief shining in her vivid blue eyes. “I would give you a whistle, but the power might be too much for you.”

  “Gee, thanks, Mom.” But her frown softened. Flipping on the switch, she tapped her hand a few times on the microphone’s head, sending out a crackly, pounding sound. To her surprise, the room fell silent.

  She covered the mike with her hand. “Wow, Dad sure has this group trained.”

  “Haven’t you noticed that when your father uses the microphone, he’s usually saying grace before he hands out snacks?” Naomi winked.

  “I can’t believe you set me up. Now everyone’s going to be hounding me for food.”

  Naomi rolled her eyes as she brushed her hand back through her no-nonsense short hair. “Just make your announcement before they go back to what they were doing.”

  “Fine.” She turned back to her audience and uncovered the mike. “Hey, everybody. Our foosball tournament starts in ten minutes. Do we have any other late entries so we can make teams?”

  She scanned the group for any takers.

  Near the front entrance a boy with light brown hair stood with his arms crossed. Not a likely joiner. She couldn’t get a real good look at the boy because he had hair falling over his eyes, but he still looked familiar.

  She knew why he did the second Alex and Chelsea came through the door. Though both the boy’s hair and eye color were a few shades darker, his square jaw and distinctive, straight nose were too similar to Chelsea’s for him not to be her brother, Brandon. If the two children bore any resemblance to Alex, she didn’t see it yet.

  Chatter erupted again as the teens noticed the visitors in their midst. Soon the three of them were surrounded by a bunch of youths giving them the welcome treatment. Somehow Alex extricated himself from the crowd and made his way over to Dinah.

  “Friendly bunch, aren’t they?”

  “We try to be.” Her throat felt dry. She cleared it, covering her mouth with her fist. “What are you doing here?” Was it because she would be there? No, that was ridiculous. He couldn’t possibly have known that she volunteered at the center that her father also ran. But he did know her dad was pastor of this church, so…

  “Sorry. I thought the youth center was open to anybody. Youth, I mean. But if it’s not…” He let his words trail away, waiting for her to explain.

  Again she struggled with the frog taking up long-term residence in her throat. “It is. Of course. I just meant—” Stopping herself because she didn’t know what she’d meant, she lowered her gaze to the floor. That was when she noticed the microphone still dangling from her free hand. She didn’t have to examine it closer to remember that she hadn’t switched it off yet.

  Apparently, she was the only one who hadn’t noticed until then that she was broadcasting their brief conversation, and now more than a few confused faces were trained on her, their owners wondering why she was trying to uninvite their guests. Her mother lifted an eyebrow and smiled. Naomi Fraser never missed much.

  Dinah tapped the microphone again. “Let’s try this again. The tournament is about to begin. Anyone can play as long as you sign up in the next five minutes. Now would anyone like to introduce our guests?”

  Tiffany raised her hand to do the honors, and Dinah couldn’t help but smile. The slightly plump teen, who was a bit of a tomboy, had carried a torch for Billy for a long time, but he might have some competition in Brandon.

  “I’d like you all to meet Brandon and Chelsea White and their, uh, guardian…” Tiffany shot a questioning look at the new kids.

  “Alex Donovan,” Dinah said, filling in the blank too quickly. Alex was kind enough to look away instead of picking this moment to trap her in one of his infamous stares.

  “Anybody else want to play?” Dinah asked. “If so, I need you to sign up immediately at the tennis table.”

  Not surprising given that the center had guests, there was a renewed interest i
n foosball, and she registered five more participants, Brandon included, before the competition began. Only after the start of the first game could Dinah make her way back to her mother, who just happened to be talking to Alex.

  “…were looking for a youth group for the kids, and my own church doesn’t have one,” Alex was saying when she reached them.

  Of course he’d come here because of the children. Why else would someone visit a youth center other than to find Christian fellowship for young people? When was she going to stop wishing Alex’s words or motives had something to do with her instead of with the children in his care? Just because Chelsea thought Alex was Dinah’s boyfriend didn’t mean he was interested in her—or even that he should be.

  “Oh, Dinah, Alex says you two know each other.” Naomi didn’t say more, didn’t need to. Those mischievous eyes spoke volumes.

  “We had a conference about Chelsea at school.”

  “And a false alarm from what Chelsea tells me.”

  Dinah glanced at her mother, who could barely contain her amusement, and then looked around for Chelsea. The child had joined the teens in the movie-viewing area but was watching the three adults out of the corner of her eye.

  “That, too.” Dinah supposed she should be grateful the child had mentioned only the fire alarm and hadn’t embarrassed Alex in front of her mother by bringing up her boyfriend/girlfriend questions.

  “Alex has been guardian for his cousin’s children while she’s undergoing cancer treatment. He’s helping them work through the tough times.”

  “Looks like he’s doing a great job.” Naomi pointed to the foosball table where Brandon had just scored a goal and was high-fiveing Jeremy.

  Alex stared at Brandon, surprise written all over his face. “He hasn’t smiled like that in months,” he explained when he caught the two women watching him.

  “Then look how smart you were for bringing Brandon here.”

  “Forcing is more like it,” Alex said.

  Dinah grinned. “Whatever it takes, I guess.”

  “Chelsea looks like she’s having fun, too.” Naomi indicated with a tilt of her head the TV-viewing area where several of the younger girls had squeezed in with Chelsea on the couch.

  Alex didn’t say anything, but he did appear pleased with himself. His grin was contagious. Whether he’d come for her sake or not, Dinah was happier than she ought to have been that he was there.

  “Well…”

  Dinah turned her head and found her mother waiting—not for too long, she hoped.

  Naomi just grinned and adjusted her pearls. “I’d better round up that husband of mine and see what he has planned for snacks today. This crowd’s going to be hungry once we have a foosball champion.”

  As Naomi moved past them, she turned back and gave a wink that only Dinah could see.

  “Your mom’s nice,” Alex said as she moved away.

  “Yeah, she’s just a peach.”

  “Peach?” He lifted an eyebrow. “She’s as sweet as the whole pie from what I can see.”

  Her gaze flicked to Naomi’s retreating form, and she forgot her sarcasm. “She’s that, too.”

  Would she and Alex continue standing there, extolling her mother’s virtues. She searched around for something clever to say, something that would make him laugh, but she had nothing.

  “Hey, this place is great.”

  Alex took his time looking around at the game area, the TV spot and the group of tables where they usually doled out pizza. He wasn’t waiting for her to fill the silence at all. Why was she trying so hard to impress him when he didn’t seem to expect it? She’d been exposed to members of the opposite gender many times, even dated some, so why did Alex Donovan make her feel like a seventh-grader with her first crush? No, not a crush. She didn’t do crushes. But something.

  “You guys have to be proud of yourselves, putting together a place like this,” he said, trying again.

  “It was my dad’s project in the beginning. He thought it was a great way to reach young people.”

  “The reverend has to be a busy man with running the church and this center. I don’t know how he finds time for everything he does.”

  With a slight tilt of his head, Alex indicated Reverend Fraser, who’d just come through the kitchen door, using both hands to balance pizza boxes above his head. His wire-rim glasses were sliding down his nose, and his silver hair stuck out in tufts, but he had no free hands to right his appearance.

  Alex must have read the question in her eyes because he explained, “I worked with your dad on the holiday toy drive last Christmas. This church’s drop-off site was one of the most successful.”

  “So that’s how you knew him.”

  “And that’s why your name sounded so familiar to me. Why didn’t you say who your parents were when I asked?”

  The feeling that struck Dinah reminded her of being called to the board to do a problem in algebra when the FOIL Method was about as clear as swamp water. Part of her explanation here made sense, but the other part was muddier than she liked.

  “Some people have a strange reaction when they discover I’m a PK—preacher’s kid—so I usually don’t throw it out there right away.”

  Alex moved his head back and forth as if considering and then nodded. He either accepted what she’d said, or he decided not to press. Either way, she was grateful.

  “I saw that this place is open every afternoon after school and most of the day on Saturdays. Does the Fraser family single-handedly keep the place running?”

  She shook her head at that impossible notion. “Mom and I work here regularly, as does Scott Crosby, the assistant pastor, and Caleb Williams, the youth minister. Even my younger sister, Ruth, helps when she’s home from college. But without all the other volunteers from church, we couldn’t keep the doors here open.”

  She waited for him to scan the room again and see the massive scale of the project before she continued. “I volunteer here most Tuesdays and Thursdays after school.”

  As soon as she’d spoken the words, she clamped her mouth shut. Way to go, Dinah. Could she be any more obvious that she wanted him to know where she was on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, just in case he wondered?

  If he picked up on her flub, he didn’t let it show. “All the volunteers should be commended.” His gaze lingered on her face, warming her and making it clear which volunteer he expected to accept that compliment.

  “The center has been a hit with the kids. Yours included.”

  His eyes widened, showing he still wasn’t accustomed to anyone referring to his young charges as his. Maybe it was temporary, but they were definitely his responsibility. Alex looked over in time to see Brandon throw his hands into the air and do some sort of victory dance over a goal.

  Alex nodded as if coming to a conclusion. “This place is going to be good for the kids. Brandon especially. He needs a chance to spend time with other Christian kids.”

  “Then you’ll be back?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’m—I mean, we’re—glad.”

  A whoop went up from the crowd then, signaling that one of the girls had scored this time, and Alex turned toward the commotion, but a small smile remained on his lips.

  Chelsea slipped between them then and slid an arm through Alex’s. “You see, Uncle Alex. This place is fun.”

  Alex turned around and hoisted the child up on his hip as if she were three instead of nine, but Chelsea didn’t seem to mind. “It is fun. You were right. Do you think we should come back?”

  The child leaned her forehead into Alex’s until they could exchange butterfly kisses with their eyelashes. “Every day.”

  “How about a few times a week? That sounds like a better idea, don’t you think?”

  Chelsea’s disappointment showed, and she stared into his eyes for several seconds, as if trying to decide whether theatrics would help her get her way. Dinah hoped he didn’t cave in to the demands because it would set a precedent that wou
ldn’t help him later. She’d seen plenty of experienced parents make that mistake.

  But Chelsea only shrugged and lifted her head away. “Okay. But the youth center is having this fall carnival with rides and everything, and there’s a lot of stuff that needs to be done to get ready for it. Stuff beginning tomorrow. Every day.”

  Alex started shaking his head as he lowered the miniature manipulator to the ground. “I don’t know—”

  “But, Uncle Alex, it will be so much fun. The big girls said we could help. They need grown-ups to help, too.”

  He turned back to Dinah, a plea for assistance so plain in his eyes that she couldn’t help grinning.

  “Well, Chelsea’s right. The annual carnival is October twentieth. It’s usually the second week of October, but the Main Street repaving project won’t be completed until the fifteenth, and we’ll need all the side-street parking that’s available since—” She stopped herself, figuring he didn’t need all the gory details.

  “Anyway, the carnival is coming up, and it’s going to be bigger than ever this year,” she said. “We’re adding rides in the church parking lot as well as all the regular booths outside and in the gym.”

  “So what you’re saying is you need all the help you can get,” he finished for her.

  Dinah shrugged, signaling with a brush of her hand for Chelsea to skedaddle off to her newfound friends so the grown-ups could talk. She could give him an easy out, but the idea of seeing Alex Donovan regularly for several days did hold a certain appeal. The event would benefit the center, and that was the important thing.

  “We do need more volunteers—teens and adults—to do preparations for the fall carnival.” She shot him a sidelong glance, only to find that Alex’s frown was focused on her now.

  She rushed to explain. “You know, doing things like assembling equipment for the carnival games. We wouldn’t expect anybody here to put the Tilt-A-Whirl together or anything.” She paused, glancing at him again. “We’re using trained professionals for that.”

  “Good. I’d hate knowing I assembled a ride that created human catapults.”

  “If you can do that, remind me not to let you handle any power tools.”