Cupid's Christmas (Serendipity #3)(32)
I know, you’re probably wondering why I married Raymond, but he wasn’t that way when we met. He was different then. I can’t honestly say if he changed, or if I was just blind to the truth of what he was because I believed I was in love with him.
I sure hope Lindsay doesn’t make the kind of mistakes I’ve made. I know she’s still getting over the boyfriend she had in New York—but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t cross my mind that Matthew would make a real nice boyfriend. If it’s to be, it’s to be. One thing neither of them need is some old busybody meddling in their affairs.
Anyway, I’ve got my own troubles to worry about. Right now my biggest trouble is Ray. He’s said some things that are meaner than you can imagine—things I haven’t even told John. If I did, John would just end up hating Ray and what good would that do? When I feel really low, I think about how Lindsay has come around and I try to believe the same thing could happen with Ray. Sometimes I can talk myself into believing it, other times I know it’s just wishful thinking.
Cupid…Loving Lunch
Love makes anything believable. One zap from me and the impossible becomes possible. Women feel their heart start to flutter and wise men begin to act foolish. Up until today Matthew has registered a zero on the gullibility scale, but now that he’s looked into Lindsay’s eyes, he’s ready to be a believer. I can tell you what is going to happen, but I won’t because it would only spoil the fun. Instead I’ll give you this small bit of wisdom—every human should have a dog because somewhere between the bark and the wag of a tail is a heart that’s bigger than your own and the truth of what love is all about.
I watched as Lindsay arrived at the Kindness Animal Clinic, I knew exactly what she would do and she didn’t disappoint me. She whizzed through the front door and went straight back to Matthew’s office.
“Is it okay if I put this poster on the reception room bulletin board?” she asked.
“Of course,” he answered. It was hard for him to hold back a smile, but he didn’t want to let her know that Eleanor had already told him about the dog. When he asked to see the poster I noticed how his hand lingered on Lindsay’s—she noticed it too.
Once the poster was in his hands, Matthew could see this wasn’t just a sketch and it wasn’t a stock photo—it was a real dog, a specific dog, a dog he could easily imagine had something to say. He began to wonder if Eleanor had somehow left out a part of the story, “Why are you looking for this particular dog?” he asked.
“I think this dog is looking for me.”
“Looking for you?”
“Yes. The first time I saw this dog it was on a rescue site and…” Lindsay went on to explain the story of how the picture of the dog kept popping up on her computer.
Matthew’s eyes were locked onto hers as she spoke. Her words held such passion, such conviction. He was a practical man and even though he had a great love of animals, he normally would have scoffed at the preposterous tale of a disappearing and reappearing dog, but oddly enough, as Lindsay spoke he came to believe her story.
I told you, love makes believers of us all—yes, even me. With all the tragic love affairs I’ve witnessed you might think I would by now be disenchanted, but no—I’m the biggest believer of all.
“Go ahead and put the poster on the bulletin board,” Matthew said, “I’ll also ask around to see if I can find out anything.” His voice had the sound of nonchalance, but the truth was he had already decided to do whatever was necessary to find that dog.
When Lindsay stepped out for lunch, he took the poster from the bulletin board, scanned it and posted the notice on seventeen different websites. Nine were Bichon Frise breeding farms, seven were animal rescue sites, and one was an animal activist league.
On Tuesday, at eleven-forty-five, Matthew asked Lindsay to check his afternoon appointment schedule.
“At two-thirty you’ve got Heidi, for a check-up and there’s Sneakers at three-fifteen…” She rattled off a few more but before she got to the end of the list he interrupted—
“Nothing until two-thirty, huh?” He gave her a mischievous grin. “Okay we’ve got time, let’s grab lunch.”
“Together?” Lindsay stammered.
“Of course, together.”
“But the office…” she said.
“No problem,” he laughed, “…the boss is out to lunch.” He walked over to the glass door and flipped the Open sign to the side that read—Back in 1 hour.
Lindsay smiled. This invitation was even more than she’d been hoping for.
As it turned out, lunch lasted for well over an hour. Matthew was so different than the other men Lindsay had dated. There was no pretense, no come on—it was a friendship but a friendship that promised so much more. On the surface it had seemed that she and Matthew had nothing in common and yet they found a world of things to talk about. They spoke about the changes that had taken place in Cherry Hill, about old friends who had moved away and new restaurants they had yet to discover. He told her he loved Italian food and even though the very thought of garlic gave her heartburn, she claimed she did also. His eyes never left her face and she hung on his every word.