Cupid's Christmas (Serendipity #3)(20)
Individual thoughts are no problem, they’re much more specific and easier to handle. But don’t expect to see another memory replacement anytime soon. Once a decade is more than enough for me.
Eleanor
I was pretty apprehensive about the Labor Day cookout, but things went better than I’d expected. I heard Lindsay laughing out loud several times, which really surprised me. Up until then I hadn’t seen her so much as crack a smile.
John said the day they went to the baseball game he and Lindsay had a long talk and now she’s okay with us getting married. As much as I’d like to believe that’s true, I have a sneaky suspicion he simply heard what he wanted to hear. Men are like that. I know, because Raymond was like that and Ray Junior is just like his daddy.
When Ray was not much more than a teenager, he had a friend at the house and when it got close to suppertime he came into the kitchen and asked if he could invite his friend to dinner. I’d only defrosted three pork chops that evening so I told Ray I’d prefer he didn’t. I didn’t feel guilty about saying no because his friend lived three doors down and I knew the boy wasn’t going hungry. Anyway, I finished up cooking and when I carried the food to the table, big as life there sits Ray’s friend. I handed the boy my plate and said I wasn’t in the mood for pork.
Later that evening I asked Ray why he’d deliberately gone against my wishes. He looked at me wide-eyed and said I didn’t. You most certainly did, I told him. I reminded him how I’d said not to ask his friend to stay and right in the middle of my talking he pipes up and says, You never told me he couldn’t stay, you just said you’d prefer he didn’t.
That, in a nutshell, sums up the difference in male hearing and female saying.
There are times when I almost get the feeling Lindsay will come around, but as far as Ray goes, I’m beginning to have doubts. I don’t think he said ten words the whole time he was at the party. He didn’t eat either. I made the potato salad with lots of mayonnaise just the way he likes it, but he wouldn’t even give it a taste.
When they first got here Ray said hello to a few people then plopped down in that lawn chair and sat there like an ice cube all day long. Once Traci and Lindsay started having a good time and laughing the way they were, I could almost see the aggravation in Ray’s face. He was squeezing the arms of that chair so hard his knuckles turned white.
A lot goes into raising a child. You do everything you can for them, you scrimp on things you want so they won’t have to do without, you worry about them, watch them grow up, get married and move on with their life…but even after all of that, they become angry if you take a small bit of happiness for yourself.
Oh you might think knowing you’ve done everything possible would enable you to shrug your shoulders and walk away when your child acts like this, but the truth is you can’t. For better or worse, Ray is still my child. I know John feels the same about Lindsay. So if they don’t come around, what are we to do? God only knows, because one thing is for certain—I don’t.
Cupid…Resume Repair
This is not an easy job. Setting up the matches is never a problem, but dealing with the ancillary people—the sons, daughters, parents and in-laws—can be a nightmare. In-laws are by far the worse. They pick at the most mundane thing imaginable. I’ve had perfect matches where the in-laws all but caused a break-up. In poor Melanie Henderson’s case it got so bad I had to ask for help. Luckily I got it. Her motherin-law came down with the flu and was unable to make the wedding. A month later Melanie and Tom moved to California, which worked out perfectly since his mother’s fearful of flying. They can thank Life Management for that.
Now, back to Lindsay Gray. I think I’ve got a lead on finding her next perfect match but the girl is hopeless when it comes to landing a job. It always comes back to the same old problem—a confidence deficiency. Lindsay’s job history mirrors her love story. Time and again she’s settled for less than what she wanted, so she’s got little to show for those years of college and working. I’ve had to deal with all of her bad boyfriend choices, but employment problems are definitely not my responsibility. Even though I feel for the girl, she’s on her own this time. Lindsay’s not without resources—she’s just too blind to see them. Unfortunately, human relationships are like a game of dominoes, when one topples everything else goes down.
The first domino began falling on the Thursday after Labor Day. It was ten-twenty-seven when the telephone rang and Traci asked to speak with Lindsay. “I think she’s still asleep,” Eleanor said, “but hold on and I’ll check.”
Minutes later a sleepy-voiced Lindsay picked up the receiver.
“I’ve got some info on that job I was telling you about,” Traci said, “I’m working on a project deadline right now, but let’s meet for lunch.”
“Sounds good,” Lindsay replied.
They set the time and place then it happened. “Bring a copy of your resume,” Traci said.
The resume—for Lindsay it was the ghost of misspent years coming back to haunt her. Seven times she’d started to write one, and seven times she’d quit. After four years at Rutgers and a string of meaningless jobs, she had very little worth committing to paper. Regardless of how she phrased it, a few clerical jobs and two years of meandering through the aisles of a book store did not make for an impressive resume.