The Matchmaker's Gift(42)



Jessica hesitated. “That unsolicited advice your grandmother gave me? It was … marriage related.” She held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers. “No engagement ring, no wedding band. No fiancé, no husband. Your grandmother noticed right away. She wanted to know if I had anyone special. When I told her no, she said she wanted to help. To do for me what she’d done for my grandfather.”

“But she stopped making matches forty years ago!”

“She said she had recently come out of retirement.”

Abby couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was lightheaded again, and her pulse was racing. “How long did she—?”

“Close to two years, I guess. She tried, but she couldn’t find the right person for me. She said she was positive that my soulmate was out there, but she wasn’t sure how to find him yet. She used to joke that it might take more time than she had left, but I kept telling her I was patient. Most of the time, she’d laugh it off, but a month or so before she died, she said something strange.”

Abby was dizzy now. Her mouth had gone dry. She was afraid to ask, but she couldn’t stop herself. “What did she say?”

“She told me that if anything happened to her, you would be able to help me.”

When the time comes, try to remember what I taught you. Who knows? Maybe you’ll make a few love matches of your own.



* * *



On her way out of the office, Abby stopped to look at the photographs in the waiting room. Closest to the reception desk was a faded picture of two men standing behind a pushcart. The older man wore a black felt hat and a dark wool coat with a lambswool collar. Although he looked uncomfortable being photographed, the young man beside him smiled heartily for the camera. It was difficult to make out what was on top of the cart, but if Abby looked closely, she could see dozens of pairs of wire-rimmed spectacles.

A second photograph showed the same two men in the doorway of a storefront. The painted signs in the wide glass windows read EYES EXAMINED and GLASSES FITTED. Over the doorway in bright white letters were the words TUNCHEL & SON.

As strange and unnerving as the morning had been, the black-and-white photographs filled Abby with comfort. Her grandmother had known both of these men. She had, most likely, been inside their store. Abby felt a connection, an invisible pull, that kept her staring at the pictures for far too long.

She couldn’t remember the older man’s name, but the son—Jessica’s grandfather—was called Jacob. Abby stared at Jacob’s smile and tried to imagine how her grandmother had ever become friendly with this man. What had made such a young and inexperienced girl think she was qualified to find him a wife? What had she seen or felt or known that had given her the courage—the chutzpah—to try? What had she said to make Jacob listen?

By the time Abby left the doctor’s office, her head was full of more questions than answers. She was no closer to helping Evelyn Morgan, and no nearer to understanding her client’s condition. She was unsure of what the ophthalmologist wanted from her, and completely confused about what to do next.



* * *



At Abby’s office, things were equally complicated. By the time she made it to her desk, Diane had already left one of her Post-its stuck to the screen of Abby’s computer: Where are you? Come see me.

The note made Abby’s stomach flip. She hated this feeling—like she’d done something wrong, like she had a strike against her before the day even started.

As usual, Diane made Abby wait in the doorway before looking up and offering her a seat. “Sorry I got in late,” Abby said. “My doctor had a last-minute opening.”

Diane pretended she hadn’t heard. “Evelyn Morgan was trying to reach you this morning. When she couldn’t get you, she asked for me.”

“I didn’t realize—I haven’t checked my messages yet. I’ll go call her right now.”

“That won’t be necessary. I took care of it.”

“Was there some kind of problem?” Abby asked. She racked her brain to think of why Evelyn might have called. Maybe she had decided to stay with Michael after all?

“Evelyn said you were interrupted on Friday, that her husband walked in while you were going over the summons.”

Abby tried to sound unconcerned. “It wasn’t an issue. By the time he arrived, we were already finished. I got her signature, and then I left.”

“You didn’t tell me Michael was there.”

“He wasn’t there, not really. He walked in when I was walking out. Honestly, I barely met him. Our paths crossed for maybe ten seconds—he shook my hand, then he saw Evelyn and went over to her. I can’t say what happened after I left.”

“Well, whatever happened, Evelyn is distraught.” Diane was up and pacing again, back and forth between her desk and the window. “How could you have allowed him to come into the room? You’re Evelyn’s lawyer. You represent her against him. You should have demanded that he leave!” There was a nasty crackle to Diane’s voice, like an electric wire that had been left exposed.

Abby knew she had to stand up for herself. “I’m not a bodyguard, Diane, and with all due respect, you weren’t there. Our business was done, and I was on my way out the door. Besides, you didn’t see how she embraced him, how the two of them held each other, like … like they couldn’t bear to be apart. It wasn’t only Michael, it was Evelyn, too.”

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