Page 21 of An Overdue Match
“Too busy for them?” Her arm flings out to indicate Grampie, who’s made it perfectly fine to the top of the stairs and to Granny, who we can hear puttering around the kitchenabove us.You’re too busy for the two people who raised you?she implies.Too busy to give back to the two people who sacrificed so much for you? Too busy to honor the two people in the world who love you no matter what?
I cringe at her silent accusations. “That’s not fair and you know it.”
Penelope sighs. “We need to hash out some details. Today. Before you leave, okay?”
“Fine.”
While Grampie had been opening my eyes to the turn his hobby has taken, Granny had reheated the lasagna, put together a salad, and set the table. She’s setting the steaming casserole dish on crocheted hot pads when Penelope and I finally emerge from the basement.
“Don’t forget to wash up before you sit down.”
Doesn’t matter that Penelope and I are both adults now. Granny will be reminding us to wash up before a meal for the rest of our lives. We head down the hall to the bathroom.
Granny and Grampie are already seated at the formal dining room table when we return. Honestly, this is one of the things I miss most, gathering with my family around this scarred table with a trove of memories. Growing up, we were never allowed to eat in the living room in front of the TV like my friends said they did, and I’d thought it was totally unfair. Now, I can appreciate my grandparents’ unbending rule about the sanctity of family meals.
Grampie places his hands on the table, palms up. Granny slides her fingers between his on one side as I clasp his hand on the other, completing the circle by also grasping Penelope’s.
“Dear Lord, for this food we are truly thankful. For this family, we are truly blessed. May we always recognize your workings and sustenance in our lives. Amen.”
“Amen,” we chorus.
Grampie looks up and smiles warmly at Penelope and me. “So, girls, how have you been? Fill your granny and me in on your lives.”
Granny uses a spatula to serve squares of lasagna. “Thank you,” I say as she hands me a plate laden with cheesy and saucy goodness.
“Well—” Penelope wipes her mouth with a napkin before settling the paper back onto her lap under the table—“I was just named lead on a new project at work.”
“Congratulations.” Granny beams. “We’re so proud of you and your accomplishments.”
Penelope glows under their praise.
Grampie turns to me, his fork poised in the air. “And what about you, Evangeline?”
Granny’s looking at me, her eyes wide in expectation. I love that they automatically assume I’ll have great news to share like Penelope does. But, really, what can I say? That I’ve decided to be a matchmaking librarian because I just can’t give up on the idea of romance altogether, even though it’s given up on me? Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.
Instead, I do the one thing that has worked since the beginning of time.
I change the subject.
“I’d rather talk about you. Your fiftieth anniversary is coming up soon. Any special plans?”
Penelope kicks me under the table. Hard. It’s a challenge to keep the pleasant smile on my face and not flinch. About as challenging as ignoring her tight expression and narrowed gaze. I’m not looking at her, but I can still see it out of the corner of my eye.
Granny looks at Grampie and visibly melts in her chair. “Fifty years. Can you believe it, Ron?”
He leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek. “It’s only the beginning, if I have any say in the matter.”
Granny blushes as if she were a new bride and playfully swats at his arm. “Oh you. You always have been a charmer.”
Seeing their interactions makes me think of the trouble I’ve been having figuring out a way to set up a meet-cute between Stacey and Dalton. Fictional romances have been helpful up to a point. I mean, authors seem to really like their heroes and heroines to literally stop in their tracks by physically running into each other. Aside from shoving Stacey at just the right moment so she stumbles and falls into Dalton’s waiting arms, that option doesn’t seem very logical for an orchestrated romantic moment.
Some other alternatives I’ve gleaned from perusing the romance display at the library:
They meet when he accidently locks himself out of his apartment. For some reason, he’s only wearing a towel.
They meet at a coffee shop and both go to the counter to collect their drinks after the barista calls out the name. Wow, they share a name. What else could they share?
It’s Christmas and they are both shopping for the same rare-to-find toy. And, of course, there’s only one left on the shelf.
