Page 16 of A Very Merry Matchup
“What, after you talked about Twizzlers for twenty minutes? You can’t bury a lead like that under candy.”
“He’s literally all I’ve talked about this entire last month.”
“I was in a vegetative state this entire last month. I didn’t know what anybody was talking about unless it had to dowith my patients at the hospital. And I’m way behind on all the messages anyway.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“You sent me to Iowa. How are you not at fault?”
“You should be thanking me right now. You’re getting to spend Christmas with a family you’ve only ever described as wonderful and a man who just as recently as yesterday you described as yummy.”
I knew that would come back to bite me. “This isn’t the plan.”
“Who cares about the plan? You obviously have a thing for him,” Lucy continues with a smug smile. “And I know he’s got a thing for you. Ever since we talked in September, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get you two together. Soon as I listened to your rambling delirious message yesterday, I knew it was my shot. So maybe I did a little finagling to make it happen. Is there a rule out there that says you’re the only one who gets to play the finagling matchmaker?”
“Yes. Because I don’t finagle. I introduce people. I help them exchange phone numbers. I don’t manipulate them into awkward scenarios that leave them stranded together for Christmas.”
“Sounds to me like I’m a better matchmaker than you.”
“Lucy.”
“Ivy.”
We have a stare-off for the next several seconds. I give in first. “I do not want to be set up with Beau.”
“He’s perfect.”
“He’s a baseball player.”
“Who cares?”
“I do. That’s the whole reason I came up with a plan. Because I care. I care about the life I want. I care about the husband I want. I care about the father I want for my kids. Which is why I swore years ago I’d never let myself fall in love with just anyone. He has to be the right type of man. And I can tell you right now that Beau Wall is not that type of man.”
Lucy stares back at me from the screen for a few silent seconds. Just when I think she’s about to apologize, she wrinkles her nose and says, “He’s the one.”
I growl. “You’re the worst.”
“We’ll see about that after you fall madly in love with him.”
“I’m not staying long enough to fall madly in love with him.”
“Yes, you are. Ivy, listen to me. You’ve been working yourself to the bone for far too long. You sound terrible. Just relax and enjoy yourself for once. Besides, Beau’s mom texted me back right before you called and mentioned that you have a dog.”
“What else did she mention?”
“That I’m brilliant. But back to the dog. When on earth did you get a dog? Because that changes everything. Lucas’s mom told me to invite you to come down to Nashville and stay at their house over Christmas, which I was planning to do yesterday before you went on and on about how yummy Beau is.”
“I meant a different word.” Why can I still not think of a different word?
“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t invite you. Lucas didn’t tell me this ahead of time, but one of his nieces has a terribleterribledog allergy. There’s no way you can bring a dog here.”
“Hamish is a hypoallergenic dog.”
“Phobia. That’s what I meant. She’s got a terribleterribledog phobia. Either way, don’t even think about coming here.”
“You’re the worst matchmaker in the world.”
“Merry Christmas. Have fun falling in love with Beau.”
