Page 25 of The Matchmaker

I set the food on the kitchen table and glance at Khala’s bedroom door, which, sure enough, is closed. So why am I here? I could claim an emergency and bow out—but seeing Nina hunched on the sofa, pecking away at her phone, I steelmy resolve. I won’t let her run me out. I’ll park myself on the screened-in porch off the kitchen to catch up on my emails until Khala wakes up.

There’s a tug on my pant leg. Lilah. Her light-brown curls bounce against her shoulders. “I’m making a puzzle. Want to help?”

I hesitate. It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with Lilah. More that I don’t want to be in the vicinity of Lilah’s very grumpy mother. “What about kicking the ball around in the backyard?” I offer.

“No way.” She wrinkles her nose. “It’s too hot. Puzzles! I can teach you.”

How do you say no to those sweet brown eyes?

I join her at the coffee table.

“Do you like Bulbasaur and Pikachu?” She holds up a 100-piece puzzle box.

“I love anything Pokémon,” I tell her. “Charmander’s my favorite.”

“He’s my favorite too!”

As I pick up a piece of yellow Pikachu tail, I hear a sharp exhale. What now? Am I wrong to like Pokémon? But when I look at Nina, the phone is pressed to her ear. Her jaw set in a firm line.

“No. I can’t hold. I need to speak to someone right now. I was already put on hold and hung up on twice.” Nina rises. She paces the length of the room.

Whatever the person says in response makes her eyes water. Her voice becomes softer, a little kinder, but still assertive.

“I ordered these transcripts weeks ago. I have a confirmation number and—” Her voice breaks. “Okay. Thank you. What’s that number?” She scribbles something on a yellow legal pad.

“Transcripts?” I ask when she hangs up. “Is there an issue with Lilah’s school?”

“Lilah’s four, Nura. She doesn’t have transcripts yet.”

Serves me right for trying to have a conversation. I turn back to the puzzle.

“I’m sorry,” Nina says. “That was rude.”

An apology? From Nina?

“I’m trying to get my credits transferred to Oglethorpe,” she explains. “They’re making me run around in circles. I check one thing off the list and something else gets unchecked. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“I didn’t know you were back in school.”

“I’m just a few credits short of finishing my master’s in communication, but apparently, I can’t manage to communicate with anyone. Portland State promised to send the transcripts three times, and now I’m about to miss the deadline.”

I try to keep my expression neutral, but this brief stop while Khala recovers is starting to look like a permanent move.

“Thank God for different time zones. Their offices are still open,” Nina says, scrolling her phone. “I’ll see if the fourth time’s the charm.” The phone vibrates in her hands. Nina’s expression darkens.

She doesn’t need to say who it is. I can tell it’s her soon-to-be ex.

Nina’s face scrunches. Like she might cry. Khala’s confided in me that she worries Nina is struggling, but all I’ve ever seen is her stoic demeanor. Watching her in this moment, I feel a pang of sympathy. Sure, Nina acts like a martyr about being here to help out when I could have handled matters fine by myself, but it doesn’t mean this hasn’t been difficult for her.

“Nina, if you want to get the call, take it. Or toss it tovoicemail and follow up with the transcripts office. I have an eye on Lilah,” I tell her.

“I can deal with it later.”

“Do what you need to do. We’re having fun, right, Lilah?”

Lilah beams and nods.

Nina looks at the phone, which is buzzing again, then at me. “You sure?”

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