Wish Upon a Matchmaker

Poor man was probably still trying to figure out what hit him, Maizie thought, amused.

“So, do I have your permission to pass your name on to my client?” she asked. Maizie had learned that it never paid to appear to take things for granted. People liked the illusion of being in charge of their own fate—even when they weren’t.

“Yes, of course,” Stone said with feeling. If this was on the level—and it was beginning to sound that way—he definitely wanted the work. He made a point of never turning anything down.

“Wonderful,” Maizie said, enthused. “I’m sure you’ll be hearing from her shortly,” she promised. “Just so you know, her name is Danni Everett.”

“Danni Everett,” he repeated.

Despite what the woman on the other end of the line had said about a cooking program on one of the cable channels, the name was not familiar to him. But then, he didn’t exactly spend his days watching cable channels or any other channels for that matter. When he wasn’t working—or trying to land work—he spent time with Ginny. That meant being outdoors, not locked in some room with the TV on, tuned to some brain-crushing program.

Stone politely ended the call and then turned to look at his sister again.

“My webpage?” he asked. “I thought we were going to discuss that.” The last he remembered, he’d told Virginia he’d get back to her. She’d obviously decided to go on without him.

“We did discuss it,” Virginia told him innocently. “You said we’d talk about it when you had time. I decided that would take too long so I just put a few simple things together. You can change it any way you want.”

“Oh, thanks,” he said sarcastically.

Virginia sighed. Stone had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into the present century for his own good. “Look, I do your accounting for you. I’ve got access to all your old jobs and the before-and-after photos you always take.”

Photos, he thought, that his sister had insisted he take before and after undertaking each job that came his way in order to keep an accurate record of the work that he did do. He was a detail man only insofar as the actual construction work that he did. The other details, organizing the before-and-after photographs, keeping them readily accessible, well, he wasn’t so good at that. But luckily, he now had to admit, Virginia was.

And apparently, she’d put that talent to work. But Stone didn’t want her thinking she was off the hook just yet.

“Just how long has this webpage been up?” he asked.

“About a week,” Virginia answered. However, she avoided looking at him when she said it.

“No, it’s longer than that, Aunt Virginia,” Ginny piped up. “You told Maizie it was up for two months.”

Virginia offered her brother a forced smile. “I exaggerated,” she told him.

“To whom?” he asked. “Her or me?”

“Um…”

The time didn’t matter as much as the actual deed. “The point is, Virginia, you put up the webpage without telling me.”

“I was waiting for the right time to tell you,” she answered. It looked as if she had waited too long. With a sigh of surrender, she said, “I guess this is it.”

Virginia took her netbook out of her purse, turned it on and then typed in the appropriate address. Once the website was up, she turned the computer around so that the screen faced him.

“What do you think?”

Stone took in the various photographs he’d taken of his work, work he was very proud of and with good reason. Still, he shrugged carelessly. “Not bad.”

That sounded like typical Stone, Virginia thought. He wasn’t exactly heavy-handed with his praise. Nonetheless, she splayed a hand over her chest, tilting her head back dramatically as she cried, “Oh, be still my heart. I don’t know if I can handle such heady praise.”

Stone got the message. And, in all honesty, the website did look rather impressive. She’d done a commendable job.

“Okay, good.” He paused. “Better than good,” he amended.

Virginia did a rapid movement with her hand, urging him on. “Keep going,” she coaxed.

The phone rang just then. “Later,” he told his sister. Taking his cell out again, he answered the call. “Hello?”

“Is this Scarborough Construction?” an exceedingly melodic voice on the other end of the call asked.

He thought he detected just a trace of a Southern accent in the woman’s voice. He caught himself trying to place it.

“Yes,” he replied, wondering if this was the woman the Realtor had just told him about. Could she have gotten back to them so quickly?

He was all set to doubt it, but then he heard the woman with the melodic voice say, “Maizie Sommers gave me your phone number. I was wondering if we could get together tomorrow evening … if you’re free, that is. I’d like to show you around my home and explain to you what I’d like to have done.”

He felt as if he were standing in the direct path of a city-owned snowplow. “Sure. What time?”

“Any time after four would be fine.”

“Four-thirty?” he suggested.

“Perfect.” She rattled off her address, then said, “I’ll see you then.”

“Four-thirty,” he repeated, confirming the time just before he hung up. Turning around, he saw both his sister and his daughter smiling at him. Widely. “What?” he asked uncertainly.

“Nothing,” Virginia replied quickly.

But she knew if she didn’t say something, he might grow suspicious. Her brother was the type who, upon finding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow would look around to see if there was a group of leprechauns somewhere, having fun at his expense.

“I can just hear the sound of bills getting paid,” she answered cheerfully.

“Well, don’t count your checks before they’re written,” he cautioned, thinking of the job that had just fallen through earlier. “You never know how these things can turn out.”

“Sorry,” Virginia murmured. “Don’t know what came over me.” There was a time, Virginia couldn’t help remembering, when her brother was just as optimistic as she was. She missed those times.

I hope you’re as good as Ginny thinks you are, MaizieSommers, Virginia said silently. I can’t wait for my brother to fall in love again and become human, like he was with Eva.

Chapter Two

Sometimes, when Danielle Everett thought about it, it still took her breath away.

Three years ago, she was living in Atlanta, struggling to pay off not just her student loans but also the mountain of medical bills her father had left in his wake. At the time, she was working at an insurance company, living on a shoestring and feeling her soul being sucked away, bit by bit, with every passing day.

Back then, Danni was vainly trying to keep her head above water and wondering if her utterly unfounded optimism would eventually erode because from any angle she looked at it, her optimism had absolutely nothing to hook on to.

All she wanted back then was to wake up in the morning and not feel as if she were struggling against an oppressive feeling. She didn’t want to feel that if she ever let her guard down, she’d be a victim of the dark, bottomless depression whispering along the perimeter of her very being.

Back then she’d never dreamed that she could actually wake up grinning from ear to ear—the way she did these days.