Cupid's Christmas Page 9

  It’s beginning to look like I’ve got a handle on the Lindsay situation, but when it comes to Ray, I’m stumped. I’m tempted to turn him over to Life Management, and I would if I thought I could get away with it. Unfortunately, they’d just kick him back. Not his time, they’d say, deal with it yourself.

  Eleanor and John have the kind of love I’ve built my reputation on. If it wasn’t so perfect, I’d give up on it because there are way too many complications. I’m one entity with seventy-eight-thousand, four-hundred and sixty-three matches to do this year alone. How can The Boss expect me to give every falling-in-love-human my undivided attention? The truth is I could use a vacation. If I asked for one, you know what He’d say—Love never takes a vacation. That might be true, but I’m thinking maybe a day off…

  As far as Lindsay is concerned, the situation is starting to take a turn for the better. For weeks she’s been avoiding Eleanor, squirreling herself away in her room sleeping late, looking at magazines or playing on her laptop. Even when her stomach was grumbling for food, she skipped breakfast because it meant sitting opposite Eleanor. This morning was different. She was awake before the six-thirty alarm buzzed, and by seven-fifteen she was dressed and ready to go. When she walked into the kitchen, Eleanor was making coffee.

  “Mmm, smells good,” Lindsay said. She poured herself a cup of coffee and purposely sat in the chair alongside Eleanor. They talked for almost twenty minutes, but not one word of the conversation was about John, nor was it edged with that all too familiar cynicism. Had I not seen that it was Eleanor sitting next to Lindsay, I could have easily believed the girl was talking to Amanda or one of her other friends. Eleanor told Lindsay everything she knew about Matthew and The Kindness Animal Clinic, and Lindsay, in turn, told Eleanor about the dog she’s been searching for.

  “I just know I am meant to have that dog,” Lindsay said.

  “I felt the exact same when I found Canner,” Eleanor replied. “I named him Canner because that’s where I found him, behind a bunch of garbage cans out back of the school.”

  “How long did you have Canner?” Lindsay asked.

  “Well now, let’s see. When I found him I was eleven years old and when he died I was seventeen, but I’ve got no way of knowing how old he was when I found him.”

  “Wow, six years. I’ll bet you really loved him, didn’t you?”

  “Goodness gracious, yes. When Canner died I cried for months on end,” Eleanor sighed. “My stepdad was real nice and he offered to buy me a new dog, but I told him no dog could ever replace Canner. That was like trying to replace a member of the family.”

  Hanging onto every word, Lindsay said, “Did you have any sisters or brothers?”

  Eleanor shook her head, “No, but I sure did wish I had. Being an only child is pretty darn lonely…”

  “It was the same for me! I had this two foot tall doll I pretended was my sister. I wouldn’t eat dinner if Mom and Dad didn’t let Genevieve sit at the table. I hung onto that doll for years and took it with me when I went off to college.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  “No,” Lindsay sighed. “One night we had a big party at the sorority house and the next morning Genevieve was gone.” Lindsay was about to explain how she’d posted reward notices for Genevieve’s return, but the clock chimed eight, and she had to get going.

  Eleanor walked to the door with her, “You have the directions, right?”

  “Uh-huh,” Lindsay nodded then she climbed into her car and drove off.

  As Lindsay drove, she found herself thinking about Eleanor—not the Eleanor who was constantly clinging to her father’s arm, but a young girl who was lonely and sad, a girl whose real father had been replaced by a stepdad. At least he was nice, Lindsay sighed, and then she began wondering what had happened to Eleanor’s real dad. Caught up in those thoughts, she saw the clinic’s sign as she passed the driveway, so she drove four blocks further, circled around three blocks, came back on the other side of the road and pulled into the parking lot.

  Kindness Animal Clinic, the name alone caused Lindsay to conjure up the image of someone her father’s age, a man with silver hair, soft hands and a Santa Claus stomach. She was wrong on all but one count—he did have soft hands.

  Matthew Mead had dark eyes, dark hair and broad shoulders. He looked like the type of man she’d meet at the gym. She mentally removed his white lab coat and pictured him in a skin tight tee and jeans. He was definitely the type. In days gone past, Lindsay knew she would have fallen head over heels in love with just such a man, but not now. Contrary to what people thought, bad memories didn’t bury themselves. They continued to bleed into every waking moment like a gash that refuses to heal regardless of how much Neosporin is slathered onto it.

  She dredged up her interview smile and extended her hand, “Lindsay Gray,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  His smile mirrored hers—friendly, pleasant enough, but definitely not an invitation to something more. He didn’t lead Lindsay back to his private office, but motioned for her to have a seat right there in the reception area. He sat across from her and leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees. “So,” he said. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

  Lindsay fumbled through her purse, pulled out a copy of her resume and handed it to him. “There’s not much to tell,” she said nervously. “I’ve had two years experience dealing with customers in the bookstore, and although I’m interested in animals—dogs in particular—I’ve never worked with them before.”

  “You don’t need veterinary experience for this job,” he said. “It’s basically sitting behind the counter, greeting customers, and entering their information into the computer.”

  “Oh, I have computer skills,” Lindsay said.

  “Good,” he replied. “Then you’ve got the job.”

  Lindsay looked at him with a wide-eyed expression, “That’s it? You’re not going to interview other people or check my references?”

  He laughed and it was a warm laugh, the kind she might expect from her father. “Aunt Eleanor’s word is enough for me,” he said, “If she says you’re good, you’re good.”

  Lindsay was near speechless. “Great,” she stammered for want of something better.

  “If you want you can start today,” he motioned to the empty reception desk. “As you can see I’m without a receptionist.”

  This was more than she’d hoped for. Lindsay tucked her handbag in the cubby beneath the reception desk and followed Matthew through the hallway for a tour of the building. There were three examination rooms with steel tables in the center, jars of dog treats on the counters, and various posters on disease prevention. There was also a surgical operating room, which Lindsay hoped to never again enter, and in the far back of the building there was a long room with stacks of cages along one wall. Some of the cages were large, some were small, but only three had an animal in them—two dogs, one cat. As soon as they’d walked into the room, both dogs jumped up and began barking, the cat seemed oblivious to it all. Lindsay looked at the dogs, neither one was the dog she’d been looking for. “Are these the only dogs you have?” she asked.

  Matthew nodded, “Right now,” he said. “In addition to veterinary services, we board animals for our regular customers. Sophie,” he pointed to the Yorkie, “is going home Friday. Butch will be with us until the end of next week. Another two dogs are coming in on Thursday plus three dogs and a cat on Friday.” He went on to explain that part of Lindsay’s job was to take each of the dogs for a walk twice a day. He reached into the closet and pulled out a freshly ironed lab coat—a match to what he was wearing. “You might want to wear this instead of your suit jacket,” he said. “There’s a lot of animal hair around here.”

  Lindsay donned the lab coat and hung her jacket in the closet.

  They returned to the reception room, Matthew booted up the computer then stepped aside and relinquished the chair. “You’ll catch on faster, if I let you do it,” he
said. Once Lindsay was seated, he began a step by step tutorial of how to access each pet’s file and what information she had to enter for new visits or appointments. It wasn’t terribly different from the computer program Lindsay used at the bookstore, but catching a whiff of musky aftershave when Matthew leaned in to guide her to some new reference point, was definitely different. Howard hadn’t taught Lindsay the Big Book Barn system, she’d taught him. And, no matter how close Howard came, he’d never had anything more than the scent of dust and forgotten words.

  After they’d gone over most everything, Matthew looked at his watch. “Perfect timing,” he said, “Max Cohen is coming in for a checkup at eleven, go ahead and pull his file.”

  Step by step, Lindsay went through the process and after she’d entered the date and the reason for visit she turned to ask if what she’d done was right. She hadn’t realized that Matthew had squatted down in back of her so he could watch the screen as she worked and when she turned they were nose to nose. Close up she could see tiny green specs in his eyes, something she hadn’t noticed right off. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t realize—”

  “No, no,” he answered, “I shouldn’t have been looking over your shoulder that way.”

  At that very moment, the bell over the door tinkled and a woman with a large German Sheppard walked through the door.

  “Hi there Max,” Matthew said, he came from behind the counter and bent to scruff the dog’s head.

  Cupid…Pauses & Posters

  Subtlety, I’m a master at it. Of course I’ve had centuries of dealing with women like Lindsay, so I’ve learned how to handle them. Attractive women come with a built-in problem. They can’t tell lust from love. A man with lust is not necessarily a man in love. This is something a woman like Lindsay finds difficult to understand. Instead of waiting for her perfect match, she picks up the gauntlet and makes mistake after mistake. Unfortunately, the result is always the same.

  According to plan, Lindsay’s where she needs to be, but it’s too soon for anything else. That’s why Eloise Cohen got into a heated argument with her mother-in-law and stomped out of the house five minutes early. If I hadn’t stepped in, that over the shoulder glance would have led to something more, something that Lindsay is not ready for just yet. Soon maybe, but not right now.

  Until she quits thinking about Phillip and all her other mistakes, she’s better off with a harmless flirtation.

  At the end of that first day, Matthew suggested Lindsay might want to wear jeans, or something that wouldn’t pick up stray hairs like her wool suit. She nodded, and then walked out of the Kindness Animal Clinic with a broad smile—obviously he’d taken notice of what she wore.

  The next morning when she sat down at the breakfast table with Eleanor, Lindsay was wearing an especially flattering blue sweater and jeans that had cost one hundred and thirty-eight dollars.

  Eleanor handed her a cup of coffee and smiled. “You look lovely,” she said.

  “Why it’s just jeans,” Lindsay replied, “Matthew told me to wear something comfortable.”

  “How was it?” Eleanor asked, “Did you like working there?”

  Lindsay nodded, “Yeah. I like Matthew too,” she pulled back the smile that was making its way onto her face and added, “I mean he’s a really nice man to work for, not my type, but really nice.”

  “Your type?”

  “Yeah, you know, dating-wise.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t really thought of—” Eleanor was going to say she’d never imagined Lindsay and Matthew together—it might have been a lie, but it was a well intentioned one.

  “I mean, he’s really handsome,” Lindsay said. “The kind of guy most women would go for, but I’ve had experience with his type. A woman who goes after someone like that is just asking for a broken heart.”

  “Are you talking about my nephew Matthew?”

  Lindsay sipped her coffee and nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “Matthew?” Eleanor laughed out loud. “Why he’s not that type at all. He hardly ever dates. He’s so wrapped up in that business he’s forgotten a man needs to have a personal life.”

  “Really?” Lindsay helped herself to a fresh-baked biscuit and slathered it with butter.

  When she arrived at the Kindness Animal Clinic a few hours later, Lindsay noticed that Matthew’s hair was a lot lighter than she remembered. He was also a bit taller than she’d originally perceived. For the remainder of the day Lindsay found herself watching Matthew. When he squatted to talk to a big dog, she craned her neck to see the round of his back and the slope of his shoulders. And, she began to find excuses to wander back to his office and ask a question, or seek a word of advice.

  On Thursday morning a young woman with a blond pony tail came through the door and whizzed past the receptionist desk without slowing down. “Hey,” Lindsay jumped from her seat and followed the intruder down the hall, “You can’t go back there…”

  The woman stopped and turned, “Are you talking to me?” she asked.

  “Yes! Customer’s aren’t allowed—”

  “I’m not a customer. I work here.”

  Hearing the commotion, Matthew came from his office. “It’s okay Lindsay, Barbara’s my surgical assistant.”

  “Isn’t she kind of young?”

  Matthew laughed, “She’s a student. Barbara’s studying veterinary medicine.”

  “Oh.” Lindsay turned back down the hall.

  For nearly five hours Matthew and the student were sequestered behind closed doors. Every so often he would carry out a groggy-looking animal, place it in one of the special cages then take another dog or cat from their cage and carry it into the room. Not once did Barbara come out. That afternoon as Lindsay sat alone at the reception desk, she found herself wishing she’d studied veterinary medicine.

  In that first week Lindsay noticed any number of things about Matthew, but the thing that surprised her most was what she noticed about herself—she liked it when he bent over her desk to explain something, or when his hand brushed against hers. On Friday as she was driving home Lindsay stopped for a red light and discovered herself picturing him as he stood talking with her. He was leaning back ever so slightly, his arms folded across his chest, and his head tilted at an angle that said I’m just as interested in you as you are in me. She was thinking of the laugh lines that crinkled the corners of his eyes when the light changed and the driver of the Pontiac behind her blasted his horn. “Okay, okay,” Lindsay grumbled and moved on.

  On Sunday morning when she sat down to breakfast with her father and Eleanor, Lindsay peppered the woman with questions about Matthew—What kind of women had he dated? Did he have any special interests? Hobbies, sports maybe? What sort of movies did he like?

  “Movies?” Eleanor laughed, “Why I have no idea. I don’t think we’ve ever once discussed movies.”

  When John excused himself and left the table, Lindsay stayed. With him gone, she could see Eleanor as an individual, not an appendage of her father. Eleanor she’d discovered was a person she could enjoy talking with—as a friend, not as a stepmother. “I’m kind of rethinking this Matthew thing,” she said, “Since I’ve gotten to know him, he seems more my type.”

  “I don’t know if a person is capable of sticking to the exact type they’re looking for,” Eleanor sighed. “Love, unfortunately, is blind. You go through life looking for a tall skinny man and end up marrying one who’s short and wide. But at the time, your heart convinces you he’s the one who’ll bring you a lifetime of love and happiness.”

  “I suppose that could be true,” Lindsay mused.

  “Oh it is,” Eleanor said, “I know for a fact because it happened to me.”

  “You mean with Dad?”

  “No, my first husband, Ray’s daddy. Most of the fellows I dated were big and athletic so I figured for sure I’d marry someone like that, but when Raymond came along I was so enthralled with how smart and charming he was I never even noticed he was only two inches taller than
me and skinny as a rail.”

  Lindsay laughed, “He wasn’t athletic?”

  “Good gracious, no. Raymond was an actuarial.”

  “What’s an actuarial?”

  “Someone who figures the odds on how long people are gonna live,” Eleanor hesitated a moment then shook her head sorrowfully, “It’s sad because Raymond was so busy thinking about other people, he never once took a look at himself.”

  “He died young?”

  Eleanor nodded, “Forty-seven.”

  “Oh, that is sad.” Lindsay waited a moment then went on to note how fit her father was. “Dad used to play football,” she said, “but now it’s mostly golf and racquetball. He’s definitely the athletic type.”

  “I know,” Eleanor sighed, trying not to show the regret of their lost years.

  If Lindsay caught the echo of melancholy, she made no mention of it and went on to ask a dozen more questions. “How did you know you were in love with Raymond?”

  “It’s hard to say,” Eleanor replied, “Love is the kind of thing that sort of sneaks up on you. I was a college intern working at the insurance company where Raymond—”

  “You worked for an insurance company?”

  Eleanor nodded, “It was only for five months but—”

  “Me too! Seaworthy, in New York. It was the most boring job ever…”

  “I bet it was. To me, the insurance business was just an endless string of numbers. I liked going to work because I got to see Raymond, but that was the only reason.”

  “Did you work after that?”

  “Did I work?” Eleanor laughed, “I’ll say I did, for twenty-five years straight.”

  Lindsay sat there asking question after question and once she’d learned everything there was to know about Eleanor’s life, she segued into asking about Ray. When it turned out that his life was rather uneventful, she came back to Matthew.

  “What was he like when he was a kid?” she asked.