Miss Match (10 page)

"Ruby!" I exclaim.

"Do you like it?" She pulls on it again. "I'm not sure. It's really
short."

"I love it," I gush. "Love-it-love-it-love-it. Wow, Ruby. When did you
get it done?"

"Friday afternoon."

So while I dealt with Prince-Not-So-Charming, Ruby Palmer turned
herself into Cinderella.

The chime over the door jangles and is immediately followed by a
long whistle, totally inappropriate if you ask me. Ruby seems to appreciate it though. She blushes four shades of pink, and grins.

"Wow, Ruby. Holy cow, you look great!" Brandon says. "Did you
get contacts?"

Ruby's eyebrows go up as she shoots a look of men! to Hannah and
me. "Uh, Brandon, I didn't wear glasses to begin with."

He is in confusion. "You didn't? Well, something's different. Get a
new outfit?"

"Nope."

Ruby doesn't intend to give Brandon any help at all. Good for her.

He looks closely at her. "Gosh, Ruby. I give up. What's different?"

"Think hair, Brandon." Hannah's voice brims with sheer, unabashed glee.

"Oh!" Brandon yells. "Your hair's different. Looks amazing, Ruby."

"Gee, thanks." She rolls her eyes to me and looks out the window.
The blush starting to recede jump-starts back into place.

I follow her gaze. Nick Amery.

"You know, he seems a little ..." she says, fiddling with a lock
of hair.

"A little what?" I ask. "Weird? Funny? Pastoral?"

"Familiar," she says, ignoring my suggestions. "Like from a long time
ago. Maybe junior high."

The "Wedding March" sounds through my brain in reckless abandon. I try really hard to keep a grin off my face.

Well, moderately hard anyway.

"Nick! Hey, what's up?" I whip the door open for him, since his arms
are laden with books.

"This is the curriculum for ..." His eyes land with a resounding
smack! on our lovely, newly transformed Ruby.

"For . . ." she urges him.

"Uh, right. Uh, for the, um, the junior high girls' group, uh, that
is, for the 'l iiesday night meetings with the girls' group." Nick swallows.
"Wow, Ruby. Hi. You look ... uh, beautiful."

She blushes darker. ""Thanks, Nick. That's ... sweet."

I glance at Hannah, who looks like she just swallowed Dad's lemongrass tea. Blegh.

I'll admit it. I probably would have the same reaction to their gushiness if I hadn't been the one to arrange it. As it is, I am giddy.

The hair is a nice touch on Ruby's part.

"So what have we got here?" I step in for the sake of Hannah's
stomach.

"The curriculum." Nick shoves the books in my face. "There's
two leader's books and two student editions so you can see what the
kids are doing. And here's the handouts. We use an NIV Bible, just so
you know."

I nod and transfer the books to Hannah's desk. Romans in Review.

This is a pet peeve of mine: Alliteration. Preachers do this all the
time. For example, my pastor's points in the sermon on Sunday? Conduct,
Condition, and Consider.

This curriculum is going to grate on my nerves. Splashed underneath
the title on all the books is Realizing Romans Remains Really Relevant.

Do people honestly talk like that?

"As you can see, we're going through Romans." Nick hands me the
last book.

Ruby is still fiddling with her hair. "In two weeks now, right?"

"Right," Nick says. "Our middle school group is pretty small, so
you'll have sixth through eighth graders."

"Works Well With We," I say.

I guess people really do talk like that because only Hannah and
Brandon give me weird looks. But Nick and Ruby are involved in a stare
contest and aren't listening.

"Ruby, I have a question for you," Nick says suddenly.

I'm rooting for "Will you marry me?" But I think it might be a bit
soon for that.

Nick continues. "Did you by any chance go to Hamilton Middle
School?"

Ruby's mouth drops open. "So that's how I know you!" She grins. "I
thought you seemed familiar. We had the same homeroom, right?"

Nick's grinning as well. "I think so. Ruby Palmer." He says her name
all reflectively, shaking his head. "Man, I had the biggest crush on you in
the seventh grade. What happened to you?"

I didn't think it was possible, but her blush darkens even more. "My
family moved the beginning of my eighth grade year. I moved back after
college. Wow. Good to see you again."

"Yeah, you too."

I'm really trying not to burst into a happy dance.

Nick checks his watch. "Well, I got to go. See you guys
Wednesday."

"The Hernandez family is here, Laurie." Brandon is watching the
parking lot.

Lunch rolls around and I go to Bud's, where Mikey greets me with a
smug smile.

"Well, look who is here," he says airily.

"Stuff it, Buddy."

"That would be my father. I'm Mikey. Nice to meet you."

I eat at Hannah's desk.

"'T'ell me about your church," Hannah says in between bites of her
hot dog.

I blink. "We're nondenominational."

"No, I mean about your church," she says. "What are the people like?
Do most of the people in the singles' class go there?"

"Yeah. Nick teaches a class Sunday mornings too. The people are
great. I've been going there all my life." I watch her eat for a second.
"Want to come this Sunday with Dad and me?"

Her face brightens. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

I lick mustard off my finger. "Are you coming Wednesday?"

"Yeah, I think so."

I finish my burger. "Let me know if you need a ride."

"Hey, Laurie?" Hannah asks, right as I toss my wrapper in her trash
can and stand.

"Yeah?"

She fiddles with her hot dog. "Right. So I went to get a Bible the
other day."

I try to control the elation on my face so as not to scare her off.
"Oh yeah?"

"Mm-hmm." She takes a deep breath and throws her hands up in
frustration. "There's like thousands to choose from and they all have
these weird initials on them and some are leather and some are hardback
and some are pink and if that's not enough, you have to choose size and
shape and if you want an index or not. And what on earth does red lettering mean? Because I picked one up that said that, and I didn't see any
red letters." She lets out an aggravated huff.

I smile at her. "How about I go with you?"

"Would you? Laurie, that would be great." She smiles a huge smile.

Hannah is definitely making some serious progress.

Ruby and I each take our curriculum home with us. I look through the
books to see what I'll be teaching.

Lesson 1: Apostleship.

This could be deep.

The front door opens. "What's up?"

"Hey, Brandon."

Brandon sits on the sofa. "I thought you might want to catch a movie
or something tonight."

I balance my chin on my hand. The invite has come many times over
the years.

Over the years. Like a flash of my camera, I realize my dear friend
has grown up.

Sometime in the past seventeen years, his shoulders broadened, his
face lost the baby fat residing on his cheeks, his eyes took on something
other than the innocent seven-year-old glint.

It makes my stomach hurt to see it. What if what Brandon said a
week ago comes true?

"One day you might wake up, and I'll be married with a couple
of kids. "

One of my ducks in a row bearing Brandon's name skirts out
of line.

I have a feeling chocolate isn't going to help this problem.

"What's wrong?" Brandon's forehead creases in a frown.

"You're ... old."

He starts laughing. "Wow, what a compliment!" He stops. "You're
not laughing."

"Come on, Brandon, I'm serious." I close the curriculum.

"Laurie, I'm only twenty-four. That's not that old. What's gotten into
you? I've never seen you like this before." His voice gets quiet.

"We're growing up. I mean, you're twenty-four. You have been able to buy alcohol legally for three years." I am finding it difficult to put my
thoughts into words.

He smiles gently. "Well, Honey, don't worry about that. I'm not
going to buy it."

"We're not ... little kids anymore."

His mouth twists in an aha expression. "I see. You're thinking about
what I said last week."

I nod. "Yeah."

When we were little, Brandon and I talked about how someday we'd each get married and have both of our families get together
every weekend.

Suddenly the someday is missing. Brandon can get married right
now. He can have a family right now.

My stomach feels hollow.

His look softens. "Kinda scary, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh."

"I've been doing a lot of thinking."

The tone of his voice doesn't bode well with my state of mind.

"About this, you know, getting older, growing up." He leans farther
into the couch, expression pensive. "I've been reading the Bible this past
weekend and praying a lot. When I asked Hannah out and you corrected
me? That kind of started my thinking. I'm not sixteen anymore. I should
be figuring out what qualities I want in a wife, not just dating for the sake
of dating. You know?"

I nod.

"I've gotten . . ." He grasps the air for the word. "Dissatisfied with
my relationship with God. Know what I mean?"

No, I do not. A relationship with God is something I have, am happy
about, and think about on Sundays, Wednesdays, and for the few minutes I'm doing my devotions in the evening.

"No."

"You'll know eventually."

"Brandon."

"Laurie."

"Let's just go to the movie and pretend we're fourteen again.
Okay?"

He smiles, but an odd expression crosses through his eyes. "Sure.
Nutsy. Let's go. There's a great new sci-fi flick out."

"I was thinking more along the lines of romance and comedy."

It's an old argument and one we recycle on our way. We buy tickets,
find a seat, poke fun at the previews, and soak in the dark, buttered
atmosphere.

But my mind doesn't revert into its usual half-dead state during
the movie.

I'm not sixteen anymore.

I pick up the phone. Take a deep breath. Dial. 5 ... 5 ... 5 ... 4 .. .

I hang up.

"I can't do this," I exclaim to Hannah.

She sets her brand-new Bible on her purse and then sits at her desk
with her hands folded smug as ever under her chin. "You can, and you
have to."

Rosebud Barbie would make sense.

I heave my breath out. "You're sure you don't want to do this
for me?"

"And you would learn what from that experience?"

I smile hopefully. "Good friends are hard to come by?"

Hannah quirks her eyebrow up. "Yes, they are. Come on, Laurie. It
can't be that hard. You dial, you listen to it ring, you tell Stephen quite
firmly and rationally that you can't go out, you hang up. What's so difficult about that?"

"I don't know." I groan, banging my forehead on her desk. "Ow."