Make Me a Match

He shook her hand. “Well, Lora, it’s really no big deal. I don’t mind being by myself.”

No one to stay the night meant no girlfriend, right?

Let’s see, she’d covered obvious bad habits, availability, appearance and charm. Was there anything else?

He looked from her to the card that had come with the flowers and back again. “Lora Gifford? Are you George Gifford’s daughter?”

“You know my dad?”

“I used to fish with him years ago, back when my boys were just kids. He owned the Lora Dunes flower shop which I just realized he must have named after you.”

“Me and the beach.”

“I’ll be. I remember seeing you with your mother a couple of times. You were four or five years old. Your mother was a beauty. Jet black hair, emerald eyes…you look just like her.”

“She’s still beautiful,” Lora said fondly, wishing she did look like her mother, knowing she’d inherited her grandmother’s demure stature and her father’s nose. “She and dad are divorced now, but Mom’s doing great.”

“Well, I’ll be,” he mused, his eyes thoughtful. “Where is your dad?”

“Down in San Diego, fishing his heart out.”

“I’m sorry about him and your mother.”

Lora said, “It’s okay. They’re both happier now.”

“And how about you? Married? Kids?”

“No, neither.”

“I didn’t think so, but so many young women keep their maiden name now and don’t wear rings, you just never know.”

While Dr. Reed seemed to study Lora, she chewed on her lip. Was it really possible this man was as decent as he seemed to be? Appearances could be so deceiving, and first impressions were worthless in the long haul. Besides, it wasn’t as though she had a good track record with men, young or old or in-between. No way was she going to jeopardize her mother’s out-of-practice heart on a guy whose pleasant manners hid the soul of a cad. She needed more information.…

She said, “Dr. Reed, I have an idea. Sometimes I hire out for odd jobs. You know, to make ends meet. I could come to your house after work. At least there’d be someone there at night in case a fire started or…something.”

He looked quite startled by the abruptness of her offer. He wasn’t the only startled one. What had she just done? She thought of her mother, she thought of Gram, truth be known, she thought of their next batch of erstwhile bachelors.

“I really am quite capable,” she said firmly.

“I don’t doubt it for a moment,” he said.

“And I’m neat as a pin.”

A smile curved his lips. Lora could sense him considering her suggestion.

“I go to bed early,” Dr. Reed said. “It would be boring for you.”

“Mom says only boring people get bored,” she said, hoping to impress him with her mother’s pithy insights. “I can provide references—”

“Not necessary,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“What’s not necessary?” a voice said from the doorway.

Lora recognized the voice and turned in time to find Jon Woods striding across the linoleum. He blinked rapidly when he saw her face.

He wasn’t the only one blinking. Out of his office, with a tailored jacket thrown over his form-fitting black shirt and no stethoscope looped around his neck, he looked suave, sophisticated and harder than ever to resist.

Why had she bunched her hair into a ponytail before coming to the hospital? Why hadn’t she taken off the lousy green sweater and replaced it with—anything else!

This yin and yang of her current position concerning men was disconcerting. Wanting and rejecting. Thinking maybe and then slamming the door.

Staring into her eyes, he said, “This is a coincidence, isn’t it? I didn’t expect to see you here.”

His gaze made her damn near breathless but his arrival embarrassed the heck out of her. She’d not expected to see him again either, especially in the hospital room of a man she’d admitted she’d never met. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was the lunch hour—great planning on her part. This could get dicey. “I’m delivering flowers,” she said.

“You two know each other?” Dr. Reed asked pleasantly.

Jon released Lora from his gaze. “We met today when she brought her cat in for a checkup. She was disappointed when I showed up instead of you, Victor.”

Jon’s remark was met with a wince from Lora and raised eyebrows from Dr. Reed who said, “I don’t believe you’ve ever been to the clinic before, have you Lora? Don’t tell me my memory is that bad.”

Hadn’t her mother told her to never lie? She’d used a lifetime’s quota that day and now she was going to pay for it. Or maybe not. Looking at Dr. Reed, she said, “I heard all about you from my friend, Peg Ho. You’re Cerise’s vet.” This was the truth and Lora felt suitably virtuous.

Dr. Reed chuckled. “Peg’s Irish Setter is a dynamo.”

Jon said, “If you enjoy animals with personalities, wait until you meet Lora’s cat.”

“Boggle tends to be a little antisocial,” Lora said and added, “In fact, I’m thinking of letting my neighbor have him. She adores cats.” Anxious to get the topic of conversation off of her pretend pet, she said, “I’m glad we ran into each other, Dr. Woods. I wanted to thank you for not charging me to examine Boggle.”

“I asked you to call me Jon.”

“Jon.” Lora felt a sigh build in her throat and squelched it, but sometimes her new lifestyle choice was hard, and never more so than now. It didn’t take even a good imagination—and hers was excellent—to picture herself wrapped in his powerful arms, held against his rock-hard chest, stroked with his gentle hands…

“Beautiful flowers,” Jon said, admiring the arrangement.

“Lora’s a florist,” Dr. Reed said, his gaze traveling from Jon to Lora.

Jon smiled at her in such a way that her knees felt a little weak. She’d always been a sucker for a good smiler.

“Your work is original,” he said.

“Thanks.” She needed to get out of this room for more than one reason!

Jon looked over her head. “Victor, is there anything I can bring you this evening when I come back to visit? Magazines? A portable radio? Illicit milkshakes?”

“I’ll be long gone by this evening,” Dr. Reed said. “Jess and her husband are picking me up this afternoon.”

“That’s great news.”

Lora saw her chance. “I’ll leave you guys alone now,” she said, and started to shuffle off. She and Dr. Reed hadn’t firmed up anything concerning her wily plan to nurse him back on his feet and into her mother’s heart; no doubt Jon’s arrival had nixed the whole idea.

Jon gestured at her arms. “Aren’t you going to leave the flowers?”

“Lora is bringing them to the house tonight,” Dr. Reed said. “Not that these aren’t appreciated, Jon, but really, you guys down at the clinic shouldn’t have sent me any more flowers.”

Jon’s brow creased. “I don’t think we did,” he said.

“’Course you did,” Dr. Reed said, handing Jon the card. “It says so right here.”

Jon read the card.

“Maybe one of the assistants arranged it,” Lora mumbled. She was going straight to hell for all these lies!

“Those girls are always going overboard,” Dr. Reed said fondly.

Jon still looked skeptical.

“Fact is, this little lady is going to be my nighttime nurse for the next couple of weeks,” Dr. Reed added with a wink at Lora, who grinned with pleasure.

Jon looked up from the card. “I thought you refused to have strangers in the house at night.”

“Well, Lora isn’t a stranger. I knew her father once upon a time.”

“You knew her father?” His eyebrows inched up his forehead again as Lora tried to recall their earlier conversation at the clinic. No use; it was a blur. Jon said, “Victor, I would have been happy to help you out. You did so much for my dad.”

“And now you’re covering for me at the clinic. The debt is more than paid. Besides, you don’t have time to play nursemaid and Lora is prettier than you are.”

Both men stared at Lora who felt a red tide wash up her neck. “I can’t argue that point,” Jon said at last.

“And she’ll let me pay her for her time, won’t you, Lora?”

“Of course,” she said breezily, thinking of a timing belt for the van.

“And now that I know Lora has a cat at home, I feel even better about my decision.” Dr. Reed turned to Lora and added, “I’m glad you came in here and talked me into taking your help. You’re very persuasive.”

Lora smiled wanly as a sudden cold front engulfed Jon’s inherent warmth. She could imagine what he was thinking. Why would she insist on staying with a man she’d never met before, one she’d quizzed him about just hours before? Finally, after an eternity or two, he said, “You talked him into it?”

“She all but insisted, didn’t you, Lora?”

Jon’s wary gaze make her feel like confessing her plot. It’s like this, she could say. Mom is lonely, I’ll find someone for Gram later, I want my privacy back, Dr. Reed seems like a great guy and what better way to find out if he really is as nice as he seems than to hang around his house for a couple of weeks?

Like that would make things better!

Jon’s back was to Dr. Reed and he didn’t bother to look cordial when she murmured goodbye. At the last minute he said, “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

Not if she could help it!

Chapter Two

Lora stored the bouquet she’d take to Dr. Reed’s later in the big walk-in refrigerator, taking a second to inhale deeply. As always, the cold, flowery air cleared her mind as it filled her lungs. So many flowers, so many choices, and the order she was filling simply gave a price range—the selection and composition was up to her.

As she arranged heavy copper roses with dark purple iris, lemon colored freesia and glossy magnolia leaves, she watched her mother and grandmother out of the corner of her eye and for the first time, had doubts about what she was doing.

They looked so…content.

Grandma Ella with her wispy white hair and rosy cheeks was dusting everything in sight, concentrating especially, it seemed to Lora, on items by the front door. No doubt Grandma had arranged some semiaccidental meeting between Lora and a friend’s grandson and was looking for him even now. Groan.

Lora’s mother, on the other hand, was busy helping a middle-aged man pick out the flowers for a bouquet to be wrapped in cellophane. At fifty, Angela Gifford was a tall, slender woman with glossy black hair barely brushed with gray, cut to ride atop her shoulders. She was by far the best of the three with customers, knowing when to help and when to back off. Grandma Ella tended to talk people to death and Lora had what her mother called “patience issues.”

A few hours later they all drove home together, Lora at the wheel, the iris and daffodil arrangement secure in the rack in the far back, Grandma Ella chatting away about her friend’s grandson.

Once inside the house, Lora broke her big news. “I have a job for two weeks,” she informed them as she counted and fed her fish. All present and accounted for. Her denizens of the deep had survived another day.

“I’ll be gone in the early evening until morning, I’m helping out an older guy who just had foot surgery. I’ll still come into work, of course, and the money I make will fix up the van. One of you two is going to have to feed my fish.”

Grandma Ella made tsking sounds deep in her throat. For years, Lora had tried to emulate these sounds as they seemed to come in quite useful in a variety of circumstances, but she just couldn’t get them right. Grandma said it was because she didn’t have enough bosom. Lora looked down at her chest. The fact that she wore an oversized sweater didn’t help much, but maybe Grandma was right.

The tsking faded away and Grandma said, “I invited a young man over for dessert tonight, Lora. Oh, that’s right, you were off making deliveries when he came in. You might want to comb your hair and change your clothes.”

Lora’s mom opened the refrigerator and took out a foil wrapped package of leftovers. No matter where she lived or with whom, Angela Gifford was a true cook, the kind who roasted a turkey and fixed all the trimmings for just two people, who got giddy if a friend presented her with a freshly caught crab.

“Chicken enchiladas okay with everyone for dinner?” Without waiting for an answer, she added, “I don’t know, Mother, I thought the boy looked a little young.”

This comment got Lora’s attention. “How young?”

“Angela, when you get to be seventy-one, everyone looks young,” Grandma Ella insisted.

“How much younger?” Lora asked warily.

Grandma shrugged plump shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“Six years if a day,” Lora’s mother said firmly.

Aghast, Lora blurted out, “Six years! I’m almost twenty-five years old! What’s wrong, have you gone through every twenty-something male you know so now you want me to date teenagers?”

“I never noticed this age prejudice in you before,” her grandmother tsked. “Besides, your mother is exaggerating.”

Lora felt a scream coming on.

Lora’s Mom shook her head. “Lora’s right, he’s too young.”

Lora said, “Thank you, Mom.” At last, reason.

“I want grandchildren,” her mother continued. “What kind of money can a teenager earn unless he’s a dot-com genius or in a rock band? Enough to support a family? I don’t think so.”

“Pauline assures me her godson has potential,” Grandma Ella insisted.

Lora’s mom clicked her tongue. “So does the new barber across the street and he’s got his own business.”

“Owning a barbershop is good,” Grandma said. “No matter what happens, men will always need someone to cut their hair because there’s not a one of them that can do a decent job of it himself unless he shaves his head. Okay, we’ll just feed this boy some strawberry shortcake and shoo him on his way.”

Angela nodded. “Good. By the way, Lora, I met the barber face-to-face this morning. His name is Michael. He’s just delightful and listen to this—he asked about you!”

With renewed clarity, Lora knew that something had to give and it wasn’t going to be her. She no longer cared that her mother and grandmother seemed happy in their matchmaking schemes—these women needed a different diversion than Lora’s love life and what better diversion than a love life of their own!

She was back on track.

She said, “Grandma, I’m not going to be here for dinner or desert.”

“But how will that look?”

Leaning over her grandmother and kissing her soft hair, she said, “Sweetie, it doesn’t really matter how it looks.” She assumed a stern expression and added, “I’ve repeatedly told you guys that for the time being, I’ve sworn off men. As for marriage and babies, just forget it. A woman isn’t defined in the old ways anymore.”

“But being part of a team is truly wonderful,” Angela said with a sappy glow in her eyes. “A woman needs a man, honey. Sure, there are hard times, and I know Calvin hurt you when he ran off to Chicago. Trust me, I know about hurt. But that shouldn’t sour you on all men.”

Lora was speechless. Her mother’s faith in the opposite sex, no matter how many times she’d been proven wrong, was astounding.

“Just stay and have dessert,” Grandma Ella added as she hulled strawberries. “After this, I promise, no teenagers.”

“I need to go out to the greenhouse,” she said, gesturing at the cloudy glass structure in her backyard. “I’ll lock up after myself out there and water in the mornings on my way to work. And don’t forget to feed my fish.” All this was said as Lora scribbled Dr. Reed’s name and phone number on a scrap of paper and shoved it into her mother’s hands. An hour later, greenhouse chores complete and overnight bag packed, she pulled out of the driveway just as a kid in a red convertible pulled in.

Victor Reed lived in a sprawling split-level house on the outskirts of town. The huge yard was beautifully designed with towering trees and lush foliage, including masses of late-blooming rhododendrons, but everything was overgrown. Lora guessed that Dr. Reed’s wife had been in charge of the upkeep.

Her mother was a gardening wizard!

Two cats, one gray and white and the other coal-black, sat on the front porch, smack in front of the door. A riot of barking ensued at the sound of Lora’s knock. She tried the knob. Two large dogs charged outside as the two cats darted inside. Lora juggled her suitcase and the flower arrangement as the dogs sniffed and wagged.

She had to yell. “Hello?”

“Back here,” Dr. Reed called.

The big yellow dogs came back inside with Lora. A third dog came charging down the hallway—this one shaggy and about the size of a toaster oven. After a noncommittal growl, he licked her suitcase.

The same sense of good taste gone to seed permeated the house. Apparently, Dr. Reed had let the whole shebang get away from him. Well, she had a cure for that, didn’t she? Over the weekend, she’d get her mother to come over to help weed and casually introduce her to Dr. Reed. They’d stare into each other’s eyes. Mom would see an older man with laugh lines and a gentle heart and Dr. Reed would see an attractive middle-aged woman with great legs and a ready smile. The scenario played itself out in Lora’s head.

All that was left was to find grandma a match!

The dogs led Lora to a smallish room with dark leather furniture and shelf upon shelf of books. A big desk sat in one corner, but Dr. Reed was sprawled on a recliner, his bandaged foot out in front, a blanket thrown over the rest of him. A different cat, this one pure white, slept on his lap. His crutches were on the floor beside his chair and a muted television flashed light into the room.

“You came just in time,” Dr. Reed said. “I’m about to starve to death. Maybe you could order us a pizza.”

“Or maybe I could just fix something,” Lora said.

“Jess did the shopping. All she bought was real food.”

“Real food?”

“As opposed to the stuff you can throw in the microwave. Can you cook?”

Stepping over the dogs that had settled on the rug, she put his flowers on the desk and dumped her suitcase out of the way. “Can I cook?” she scoffed. “Point the way to your kitchen.”

Dr. Reed’s sister had indeed stocked the refrigerator and within half an hour, Lora had stir-fried shrimp and asparagus and cooked a pot of jasmine rice. She made a tray for the both of them and took it back to the den. All the animals had settled close to Dr. Reed. In unison, they looked up as the aroma of food wafted across the room.

“Kick them out into the backyard,” he said as she set the tray on a low table. “Just shake the treat jar by the back door, they’ll come running. Don’t worry, the yard is fenced. Boy, I’m sure glad you’re used to animals.”

Not those who actually had feet, she thought. Sure enough, the furry critters showed up with the first rattle of their treat jar. By the time she returned to the den, Dr. Reed was in the process of spearing a shrimp. “Who knew you could cook like this?” he said after tasting it. “You’re so young.”

“My mother taught me,” Lora said. “She’s a great cook. It’s incredible she’s kept her figure.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“Oh, she is,” Lora gushed.

He smiled at her and they chatted while they ate. She discovered he’d been widowed for several years, that all his pets were former patients their owners had abandoned in one way or another and that he had a delightful attitude about life. In other words, he was the total opposite of her father. Lora beamed. Her mother was going to love this guy.

Lora felt so at home that when the doorbell rang she jumped up without waiting for Dr. Reed to ask her to get it. Through the glass panel, she could see Jon Woods standing on the porch, a duffel bag in his hand, an impatient look on his face.

What was he doing here?

She had half a mind to pretend no one was home, but that was stupid, he could see the Lora Dunes Florist van out front. That duffel bag was ominous, however, so steeling herself against his disdain, she opened the door.

“Where are the dogs?” he said.

What a greeting! It was obvious he was still suspicious of her. Lora smiled and said, “I poisoned them and buried them in the backyard. Want to see?”

He groaned and shook his head.

Had she really known him for just this one day, and how had he gone from being so nice to being so annoyed in such a short time?

Was it because she wasn’t trying to make him like her? If so, it was obvious her own true personality wasn’t exactly magic when it came to the opposite sex. The blasted sweater probably didn’t help much, either. She vowed to get rid of it. Dating or not, a girl had her pride.

“What can I do for you?” she asked him.

“Not a thing,” he said, and walked right past her into the house. His familiarity with the place was evident in the way he went directly to the den. Lora closed the door and followed him. He looked good from the back, his body strong and tall, his shoulders broad. He wore faded jeans and a black T-shirt and cross trainers on his feet. He had a way of walking that looked masculine and physically fit. That walk reminded her of Calvin. He walked the same way, with a subdued bounce, full of confidence, full of sass. Full of himself.

Dr. Reed greeted Jon with genuine warmth. “It’s a shame you missed dinner,” he said.

“I stopped off for a sandwich,” John told him. “Where are the dogs?”

“In the backyard. Lora has a way with them. Well, it’s too bad you ate. I think it only fair that as Lora got here first, she gets dibs on which bedroom she wants.”

“You knew he was coming?” Lora asked.

“Of course. After you left today, Jon pointed out how much more useful he would be with some of the more personal aspects of my care, like bathing.”

Though this was undoubtedly true, Lora glared at Jon.

“Happy to be of help,” Jon said. His voice was nothing but sincere, but the challenging scowl he leveled at Lora said it all. “In fact, Victor,” he added, “why don’t we let Lora go home? I’m sure she has better things to do than hang around with a couple of veterinarians.”

Lora came close to punching him.

“Absolutely not,” Dr. Reed said just in time. “Lora and I made a deal. Besides, her mother taught her to cook. Imagine, asparagus and shrimp with ginger and garlic—well, she’s a whiz. She even wants to weed the garden this Sunday. You’ll be glad she’s around during the long evenings when I’m out like a light by eight o”clock.”

“I’m an excellent conversationalist,” Lora said in an attempt to goad Jon. “And I play a mean game of strip poker.”

Jon didn’t crack.

Chuckling, Dr. Reed said, “See? Isn’t she cute? Lora, I think it’s time to let the dogs and cats back inside for the night. Jon, how about getting me a pain pill and helping me to bed?”

As Jon assisted Dr. Reed, Lora fumed and fussed her way back into the kitchen with a platter of dirty dishes and a bad temper. Jon was up to something, that much was clear. He didn’t trust her, that’s why he was really here.

Why should he trust you? a niggling voice chirped in the back of her mind.

“Oh, shut up!” she snarled.

The animals were all begging at the door. They came inside in one big whoosh, tails wagging, snouts nuzzling, bodies coiling around her legs.

It was startling being surrounded by so many critters! And, truth be known, a little comforting. Tropical fish didn’t interact a lot and never when actually outside of their aquarium, of course, so this was all new. The white cat rubbed against Lora’s shoe and Lora reached down and picked it up. The cat regarded her with a raspy purr and adoring blue eyes. Hard to believe she and Boggle belonged to the same species.

“The fact is,” she whispered into the cat’s ear, “I’m sneakier than Jon. I also have a lofty goal to fuel my fire—true love. Well, the possibility of true love, at least. Plus, I need to get those meddlesome females out of my life before they marry me off to the unsuspecting barber across the street. Or a teenager,” she added with a shudder. “With all that going for me, why should I be worried about what Jon thinks or what Jon wants or even that he seems determined to interfere with my plans?”