Unwrapped (9 page)

A
ll I can say is that I'm happy I'm a married man,” Matthew McPherson said as he watched the movers load his furniture into the back of the van. “I would hate to still be on the receiving end of your matchmaking, Aunt Wheezie.”

Louise McPherson Douglas shook her head. No matter how many times she explained things to her family, they still didn't get it. She wasn't a matchmaker. Matchmakers were unintuitive people who liked meddling in other people's lives just for the fun of it. Wheezie had always been able to read people like the morning newspaper and only meddled in their lives when they were screwing things up on their own.

“Well, I, for one, am grateful for Aunt Wheezie's matchmaking.” Matthew's wife, Ellie, came out of the garage carrying a large houseplant. “If she hadn't fixed things so I moved right next door to you, we might not have gotten together.”

With a scowl marring his handsome face, Matthew hurried over and took the plant from Ellie. “Didn't I tell you not to lift anything bigger than a toothbrush?” He handed the plant off to one of the movers. “I should've moved us into our new house on the sly like Patrick and I did for James and Cassie.”

“I'd tell you to stop fussing over me”—Ellie hooked her arms around Matthew and smiled up at him—“but I find it very cute…and sexy.”

Matthew's face softened, and he flashed a smile. “Sexy?”

It did Wheezie's heart good to see her nephew so happily married. Especially when there had been a time she'd thought he wouldn't be happy with anything less than a harem of women. But Ellie had changed all that. And if love could change a playboy into a one-woman man, it could change a confirmed bachelor into a family man.

One more McPherson. That's all Wheezie had left. Once Patrick had someone to watch out for him, she could die happy knowing her family was taken care of. Unfortunately, Patrick was proving to be more stubborn than his father. The young man had thwarted every prospective bride she sent his way. But she wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet. Which explained what she was doing at her nephew's condo complex.

“So can I count on you to rent out your condo to a woman of my choosing, Matthew?” she asked. “Like Ellie pointed out, it worked for you. So why wouldn't it work for your brother?”

Matthew stopped cuddling his wife and glanced over. “In case you haven't figured it out, Wheeze, Patrick and I are two different people. I loved women, while he merely tolerates them. It doesn't matter if they're living next door to him or not. And didn't you figure that out when you moved Deirdre into Ellie's condo?”

He did have a point. Patrick hadn't said more than two words to the waitress from Wheezie's favorite restaurant.

“I take full responsibility for that,” she said. “I picked the woman for her sweet personality, not realizing that she was easily intimidated by assertive men—or that she was allergic to cats.” She glanced at Patrick's condo, which was only two doors down from Matthew and Ellie's. In each window there was either a cat or a dog—or both. The man might be as stubborn as the day was long, but he had a heart of gold. All a woman had to do was get past the surly disposition.

“But I think I've found the right one this time,” she continued. “Tabitha's a personal trainer at my gym. Not only can she keep up on your brother's runs, but she also loves animals. It seemed like a godsend when she told me she was looking for a place to rent.”

Matthew glanced at Ellie. “What do you think?”

“I think that it couldn't hurt to try,” Ellie said. “As much as Patrick acts like he's happy with his life, I have to wonder if he truly is. Usually when people surround themselves with numerous pets and spend hours at work, it's because they're trying to fill a void in their lives. I'm not saying the void is a woman, but it could be.”

Wheezie smiled. It was such fun having a psychologist in the family. Especially when Ellie agreed with her.

“Okay,” Matthew said. “Have this Tabitha give me a call.” He pointed a finger. “But this is it, Wheezie. Patrick is a big boy who can choose his own—” His cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his coat pocket and answered. “Hey, Steve…sorry, I must've been talking with the movers. So what's up?” His face registered surprise, quickly followed by concern. “How badly is she injured? The hospital? Who went with her?” His eyes widened. “Damn, Patrick isn't good with people. I'll call him and try to keep him from causing problems, then I'll meet you at the office.” He hung up and turned to Ellie. “There's been an accident at one of the jobsites so I need to go. Are you going to be okay handling this?”

“I'm not an invalid, Matthew. I'm just pregnant. Now go to work and I'll call you once we get to the new house.”

He gave her a stern look as he pulled the zipper higher on her coat and tugged the knit cap down around her ears. “No lifting, and don't stay out in the cold for too long.” He kissed her before turning his attention to Wheezie. “You shouldn't be out here either, Wheeze. Especially without your walker.” He glanced around. “Where did Barkley park? I'll get it for you.”

Since her walker wasn't in the car, Wheezie ignored the question. “So who got hurt?”

“I guess some bystander. I'll have more information when I talk with Patrick.”

“Well, don't let us stop you from doing your job.” Wheezie flapped her hand in a shooing motion. “I'll stay here and keep Ellie company until the movers finish loading.” Matthew gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and headed to his Range Rover.

Ten minutes later Wheezie was sitting in the window seat of Matthew and Ellie's empty condo, enjoying the heat of the gas fireplace and the relief of being off her feet. “So just in case Tabitha doesn't work out, what about your friend Sidney? Does she like animals and angry men?”

“I'm not sure that Sidney would be a good match for Patrick.” Ellie handed her a Styrofoam cup of hot tea and sat down next to her, fidgeting on the cushion until she and her large stomach were comfortable. “Like Patrick, she's not really looking for a husband. Especially since she just started her new job.”

“I thought she was your assistant.”

“She was. But since I've put my second book on hold until after the baby, there's just not enough to keep her busy.” Ellie blew on her tea. “So she decided to become a part-time travel agent. In fact, Matthew's father is her first client.”

“Well, that doesn't surprise me. Big Al and Mary Katherine have done a lot of traveling this year. Where are they going this time?”

“On a European river cruise.”

“I'm happy for them. Mary Katherine has always wanted to go to Europe.”

Ellie studied her tea. “I hope the rest of the family feels the same way.”

“What do you mean?” Wheezie asked. “Of course their children want to see them travel and have fun.”

Ellie glanced up. “Even if it's during the Christmas holidays?”

Wheezie set her cup on the windowsill. “You mean Albert booked a trip over Christmas?”

Ellie nodded. “It was the only cruise available at such late notice, and I guess Albert wanted to surprise Mary with it for Christmas.”

Mary was going to be surprised all right, and not in a good way. She loved everything about Christmas—the baking, shopping, decorating, and especially the big family get-togethers. But maybe Mary was tired of all the holiday excitement and would enjoy a nice quiet cruise with her husband. After the craziness of last Christmas, Wheezie couldn't very well blame her. Between Mary kicking Big Al out of the house, Cassie being convinced that James was having an affair, and Wheezie trying to get Matthew and Ellie together, it had almost done Wheezie in. She was ready for calmer holidays this year.

“Well, I'm sure the kids will get over their mother and father not being here,” Wheezie said as she picked up her cup of tea. “Although if I was you, I'd let Big Al or Mary Katherine break the news. We McPhersons have been known to shoot the messenger.”

Ellie laughed. “Good advice.”

“Ma'am?” A mover stood at the top of the stairs. “We're ready to head out.”

With her big stomach, it took a while for Ellie to get to her feet. Of course Wheezie wasn't much better. Getting old was hell. Once they were outside, Ellie hugged her close. Obviously a year with the McPhersons had changed her from a non-hugger to a hugger. Something that made Wheezie smile as she patted her back.

“Do you need me and Barkley to follow you over to the house and help you unpack?”

“No, thank you, Aunt Wheezie.” She gave her an extra squeeze before pulling back. “The sisters-in-law—Melanie, Amy, and Cassie—are going to come over and help me. Although Cassie probably won't be much help. She hasn't been feeling well lately.”

Wheezie didn't comment. Even though Cassie hadn't said anything to the family, Wheezie thought she knew exactly what was behind her niece's sickness. If anyone had told her six years ago that her tomboy niece would be laying kids like eggs, she would've laughed her sides out. But love had a way of changing people. And always for the better.

Ellie hooked her arm through Wheezie's. “Let me walk you to your car. Matthew is right—you should've brought your walker.”

“A walker is just one wheelchair away from a coffin. I'm not ready for that yet.” Wheezie patted Ellie's hand. “Now you go on and make sure those movers get to the right house. Barkley is parked just out front.”

It was a bit of a lie. She had released her chauffeur to do whatever he did on his time off until she called him to come get her. She shuffled around the building and parked her arthritic hips on a bus stop bench before taking the phone out of her pocket and squinting at the tiny screen. The damned thing looked more like a makeup compact than a phone. Where was the keypad? The receiver? The curved case that fit nicely in your hand?

Releasing a frustrated sigh, she swiped the arrow on the screen as Mary Katherine had repeatedly shown her. A clutter of little squares popped up—little squares that did all kinds of things but call someone. She shook her head. Alexander Graham Bell was probably spinning in his grave.

It took her a good five minutes to locate the square with the phone. She very carefully tapped it and was relieved when a keypad popped up. Mary had programmed Barkley's and the family's numbers in the phone, but it was harder to pull those up than it was to dial a number. Wheezie wasn't senile. She remembered people's numbers. She punched in her chauffeur's, then placed the phone to her ear and waited. And waited. And waited.

She glanced at the phone. The screen had turned black again.

“Good merciful Lord,” she muttered.

“Having problems?”

She glanced up and was surprised to find an old bum sitting next to her. She had been so wrapped up in the silly phone that she hadn't noticed him sit down. Which in downtown Denver wasn't too smart. She scooted over a couple of inches and sent him a no-nonsense look.

“If you want a handout, I'm afraid you'll have to wait until my driver returns. I don't carry any money on me.” That was a lie, but sometimes lies were necessary.

The eyes above the curling mustache and snow-white beard twinkled merrily as he nodded at the phone. “Crazy inventions. Seems like only yesterday that all you had to do is crank a handle and an operator would ask who you wanted to call.”

Wheezie snorted as she started the phone sequence all over again. “Then you must be a lot older than I am. In my day you had a dial.”

The man laughed. “I guess I am pretty old. Although when I get up in the morning and look in the mirror, I don't see an old man with a white beard and wrinkles. I just see me.” He paused. “The body might be different, but the soul's still the same.”

The truth of his words had Wheezie glancing up. His coat and running shoes might have been tattered, but they looked clean. And instead of body odor, she smelled peppermint. It was a calming scent that reminded her of childhood Christmases back in Chicago. She and her brother, Big Al's father, had grown up poor, but their parents had always had enough money to fill their stockings with peppermint candies.

She smiled at the memory. “I know what you mean. Unfortunately, everyone else just sees a senile old woman who should be using a walker. And a walker is almost as bad as these silly phones.”

The blue eyes that studied her were clear and direct. Almost too direct. It was like he looked right through her and understood her thoughts and fears much better than she did herself.

“Sometimes the greatest gift we can give ourselves is acceptance.” Before she could ask him what he meant, he held out a hand. “Let me see if I can figure it out.”

If she were smart, she'd refuse. She watched the news and knew thieves loved to steal cell phones. But the man didn't look like a thief. He looked like Santa Claus. Besides, if he took off with the danged phone it would be a blessing.

She handed it over. With only a few swipes and taps, he handed it back. She held it to her ear, surprised to hear it ringing. More than a little annoyed that the man had figured it out when she couldn't, she was a bit snappy when Barkley answered.

“I'm ready,” she said. “You can pick me up in front of the condos. I'm sitting at the bus stop.”

“By yourself?” Barkley didn't sound happy.

“Of course by myself. What? You don't think I can sit at a bus stop by myself? I'll have you know that when I was a teenager, I took the city bus every day to school.”

“Stay put,” Barley ordered. “I'll be right there.” He hung up without saying good-bye. Wheezie pulled the phone from her ear and felt relieved when it appeared to hang up on its own. Suddenly feeling foolish for her bad behavior, she turned to thank the bum for his help.