The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(60)

It was a pretty sight, the bright kites and clothes. At least six heads of gray hair and three baldies caught the light.... Why did singles events always attract the elderly? Hey. Glass houses, okay? the eggs said. Oh, gosh, Pops was here, too...hopefully not flirting too much, or Goggy might beat him with a stick later on. But there were a few younger people, too. Lorelei from the bakery, Julie from the library. The perfect man she’d just been imagining was missing. He always was.

There was one couple already hitting it off, their backs to her. Then the guy turned, and Honor froze midstep.

It was Brogan. And Dana.

Pregnant Dana.

She remembered to keep walking. Told her face to smile.

“Hey, Honor!” Brogan said, taking a few steps toward her. “How are you? Great idea, this! I was home, I said, ‘Dane, we should go!’ And, of course, that way we could see you.”

He was trying. A little too hard, but he was trying to keep their friendship, and Honor’s heart gave an unwilling tug.

“It’s good to see you guys,” she lied. “I just didn’t expect you.”

“How could we resist? Superfun,” Dana chirped, smiling so brightly her nose crinkled. “How are you, pal? Long time no see.”

“Yeah. Um, congratulations again, by the way!” She’d sent an email, of course. “It’s really big news.”

“Thanks. We’re so happy.” Dana’s hand went to her stomach—a little high, Honor thought, as if she had heartburn. She hoped Dana had heartburn. Really bad heartburn. And the pukes. Now, now, said the eggs. Don’t be catty. After all, it could be your turn soon! Because we know we’re ready!

She gave herself a mental shake. “I didn’t expect you two because it’s a singles’ event.”

“It is?” Dana said. “That’s not what the newspaper said.”

At that instant, Jessica came running over, her face set in a frown. “Honor, I’m so sorry. The newspaper cut the line about this being for singles only, and half the people here are—oh. Hi, you guys.”

“Hey, Jess, how’s it going?” Brogan said. God, he was so nice to everyone. Then he reached for Dana’s hand, the gesture so familiar and lovely, such a statement. He’d never held her hand. Never.

Aren’t we over him yet? the eggs asked.

“It’s fine,” she told Jessica. “They always get something wrong. We’ll clarify for next week, but for today, everyone can just have fun and drink wine.” She paused. “Except you, of course,” she added for Dana’s benefit.

“Why me?” Dana asked. “Oh, right! I keep forgetting. Wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt our little bambino,” she said, leaning back against Brogan.

On second thought, we’re with you on the heartburn, the eggs said.

“Honor!” called Carol Robinson, one of the married people. “When do we get to the eating part? I’m starving.”

“Easy, girl. First we’re going to do a little meet-and-greet,” Honor said. “Folks, unfortunately, there was a line missing in the newspaper write-up. This is actually a singles’ event, but don’t worry. We’re very glad you’re here today. Next month, though, will just be for singles, okay?”

“Isn’t that discrimination?” Brogan murmured, surprisingly close to her ear. Honor jumped. He was smiling, that killer grin.

“Shush, you,” she said, feeling a traitorous tingle. “Okay, so if you are single, please group over to the left with Jessica, and you can start getting to know one another. And if you’re not, let’s get those kites in the air, all right?” She held one up—special ordered, dark blue with the gold heron logo emblazoned on it. “It’s a beautiful day here at Blue Heron, and Carol’s right. After this, we get to eat some lovely food and drink some incredible wines.”

It was the PR side of her. Always smiling, always focused on presenting the best possible front of the family business, always looking for ways to bring people in and remind them of the family mantra: life was too short to drink bad wine.

The kites went up, Pops getting his line tangled with Carol Robinson’s (probably on purpose; Carol was adorable). Lorelei from the bakery, who was always so cheerful, listened intently as Elvis Byrd, a pale, scrawny computer programmer a few years younger than Honor, explained why fracking would cause massive earthquakes, ending life as they knew it. Suzette Minor was flirting with Ned (Honor would have to put the smackdown on that, because Suzette was far too old and trashy for Ned, though Ned would disagree). Jessica snapped photos, and the kites soared and ducked against the pale blue sky.

And Dana and Brogan were certainly having a good time. They made a very attractive couple, she’d give them that. Very Hallmark card-ish, Dana standing in front of him, giggling like a fifth grader, Brogan tall and manly behind her, making the kite swoop and circle.

Dana glanced over, and Honor quickly averted her eyes. Went over to her grandfather and kissed his grizzled cheek. “Hey, Pops. How are you?”

“I’m good, sweetheart. See any ladies for me? I’m thinking of divorcing your grandmother.”

“You couldn’t find the front door without my grandmother,” she said.

“So? The front door’s nailed shut,” he said. “But you’re probably right,” he admitted. “And I suppose one person is as good as another.”