A New Resolution: A Modern Match-Maker Romance Read online

  Thing is, they kinda are to me.

  They look like a couple of inbred rednecks in the back room of this bar now, and even though there's over a decade of difference in their ages-- when they get together you wouldn't bet that either of them are out of their teens by the way they act.

  But Tim met his wife, Evie, standing on a corner waiting for the light to change at the cross walk when he was in his first year of college. He told his mom that night at dinner that he met the girl he was going to marry that day.

  It took him exactly 3 months to propose.

  When she said yes, we all figured she was pregnant, of course, but it turned out no. She says she knew he was her soul mate the moment she heard his voice.

  They got married that summer, when they were 19, and they just celebrated their 20th year.

  Yeah-- that's my idea of two people who are on the same page about how to make a marriage work. And whatwith their whole love at first sight story, I figure Tim'll have my back on this sight unseen thing.

  Maybe.

  And Randy? He just proposed to his girlfriend after 5 years together. They've been living together for the last 4, so we all kinda figured it was either never gonna happen, or Bev would press the issue with an ultimatum soon.

  As it turned out, Randy waited so long because he wanted to make sure he had the ring paid off and enough money in the bank to give Bev her dream wedding, honeymoon, and house all at the same time.

  The kid is only 26 years old. Yeah, he landed a great job that pays better than any of our parents ever made, but he's also been socking money away for the last 4 years.

  "The day Bev moved in," Randy said, "I had every intention of making an honest woman out of her. I just didn't want to go into debt doing it."

  Then there's Don, my sister's husband. He's a pretty level-headed type that doesn't always get the family's sense of humor, but he treats Tanya like a treasure.

  Ever since they started dating, I've been looking for a reason to beat the fuck out of the guy-- not because I didn't like him-- it just seems like the kinda thing a good brother does when his baby sister starts keeping company with some guy, you know? Like, I needed to let the guy know not to mess with her, put a little fear into him in case he was the type of guy who thought he could screw around with Tanny and then dump her or treat her like dirt and make her feel like crap all the time.

  She dated a loser like that when she was in high school. He didn't last long after the first time he showed up at a family dinner and the entire McAllistar clan saw the way he treated Tan.

  She was pretty pissed at all of us when the guy bailed on her a few days later, but now she thanks us and says that that family dinner was actually him on good behavior.

  So when she brought Don home, we were all on watch.

  The guy's gold. He's never been disrespectful to my sis, or to anyone else in the family-- or pretty much ever in general, now that I think about it. And since Colby came along, he's a great dad too.

  Tanny never complains about him not helping with the baby. He got up with her for all those middle of the night feedings and fits Colby went through. He does diapers. Hell...one time, when Colby was only a few months old, we all got together to take Mom and Dad out for their anniversary to a nice steak house.

  Dad loves the place, but it's pricey so Mom won't let him take her there often. Mom's what we call "frugal."

  Colby started crying at dinner, right after everyone's food arrived and Don told Tanya to stay put and enjoy her steak while it was hot. He told her she deserved it, gave her a kiss, took the baby and headed outside so Cole's tantrum didn't interrupt anyone else's evening out either.

  He was outside, walking and bouncing Cole for half an hour before the kid finally calmed down.

  He ended up taking his entire dinner home. He never griped about it. He didn't even stop grinning the whole night. I swear he loves every minute of being a dad. Even when it looks like hard work, Don makes it still look fun.

  Makes me want kids of my own.

  These guys right here, drinking beer and throwing darts, talking shit about hot chicks and politics? They might look like a sorry bunch of shitheads when it's just us guys being guys-- but every one of em is exactly the kind of husband and father I want to be.

  Between them and my folks, I got real lucky in the happily ever after role model department.

  I finally nod. I'm choked up now from thinking it through though, and even though I got us together to discuss my plan to find a wife by the end of the year, this is still a guy's night out. No blubbering allowed-- they're already giving me hell for this marriage broker plan.

  So I suck it up. I blink a few times while I stare at the light hanging over the pool table until my eyes aren't watering anymore. Then I take a pull from my own liter mug of beer and, still nodding, tell Don, "Hell yeah, I'm sure."

  Don smiles like he can read my mind, but even though we give him shit for being such a city guy, he's still a guy. So he doesn't say a damn thing to call me on my emotional moment. He plays it off with a quip about seeing if this Raven lady can find me a wife half as hot as she is.

  We get the cousins to stop throwing sharp objects and every one settles around the table.

  "So you really hired this chick already?" Tim asks with a gesture toward the bio page on Raven Swann's website.

  I nod.

  "OK, so she's some kind of match maker, right? Like the real deal? Not just some glorified personal dating coach?" Randy almost comes across as being serious.

  I shake my head, "Nah, the website really goes into it in detail if you read the page on her methods. Plus, there's gotta be like a million testimonials from her clients--"

  "1,032, actually," Don points out with a finger tap to the screen that shows how many pages are linked to client stories.

  Randy gives a low whistle, obviously impressed.

  "So if she's so good at hooking people up, what does she need us for?" Tim asks.

  So I explain it.

  Courtney

  It's taken me 3 weeks to convince Kelly to even talk to Raven.

  Mom was easier, but she's my mom. She's still worried sick that I'm going to "end up in a dumpster" or "what if he goes out for a pack of smokes one night you never hear from him again after you already have kids and a mortgage?"

  Hearing my mother say "pack of smokes" makes me laugh out loud.

  I keep pointing out to Mom that relationships have tragic endings when people meet the old fashioned way too. Besides, what's more old-fashioned that an arranged marriage? Right?

  Which is part of Kelly's problem.

  "Look-- I get that you want to get married, Court," she says for the millionth time since I told her about my plan, "but paying a match-maker? to oversee the process of having your friends and family decide who you should marry? It's barbaric!"

  I never realized my friend was such a hard core feminist until she found out that real match makers exist...and that I hired one.

  "Don't you care about women's' issues?"

  "Are you serious?" It's actually really hard not to laugh at her as she paces in my kitchen, "Who are you, right now?"

  She stops pacing and stares at me. She looks exactly like she did when she found out I'd kissed Tony Somerset back in our freshman year-- even though I knew she had a crush on him. Man, was she pissed about that. I'm glad I didn't tell her until we were 24.

  "You really don't see how this woman is putting women's rights back a hundred years or more?" She says it calmly, which is how I know I need to tread very carefully here. "We had to fight for our right to choose who we want to marry. And there are still cultures where women don't have that choice. I just--" she raises her eyes to the ceiling and her whole body shakes like she's making an effort not to scratch my eyes out, "-- can't believe you don't see how wrong this is."

  Kelly turns around, reaches into the fridge and pulls out one of my hard ciders. She forgets they don't have twist off caps and she cuts her hand on the
cap.

  "Motherfucker!" she curses loudly and sticks her hand under her armpit to apply pressure while she does a little dance, presumably to expend the energy that she'd rather use on more profanity. Then she puts the bottle down on the counter in front of me.

  We've been friends a long time.

  This is as close as I'm likely to get to a peace offering from her.

  She's not giving me the cider-- she's asking me to open it for her.

  That's when it dawns on me that even though she doesn't usually spew so much angry rhetoric about women's' rights, I guess I can see how my decision goes against her natural grain.

  I take her bottle of cider and walk around the breakfast bar counter, into the kitchen. It's simple enough to grab the church key off the fridge and pop the top for her. Then, just to meet her in the middle with my own unspoken sort of offering, I grab a nice wine glass from the cabinet and pour the cider into it for her.

  Kelly is pretty independent. Her dad left when she was still a baby and her mom didn't remarry till we were seniors in high school so she grew up in a house of all girls. Just her and her sister and their mom.

  All those things that most women would call their dad or their husband-- or a man-- for, like changing a flat tire or the oil, opening jars, lifting heavy objects? Kelly does it herself without even thinking about it.

  I remember when she went through a bad break up while we were in college. She'd been dating the guy for over a year and she was pretty sure they'd end up getting married eventually. Then he dumped her for some helpless damsel in distress type that had been following him around for awhile.

  Kelz never even gave the other girl a second thought. Kelly is strong and independent. She's got ambition and she never thought her boyfriend would even consider a girl that acted like a princess all the time.

  But he did.

  We killed many a carton of ice cream and many a bottle vodka that year, while Kelly came to terms with it.

  Ultimately, she came to the conclusion that this had a been a problem for her in a lot of relationships-- the guys always ended up dating some girl that needed help with getting dishes off the top shelf, or was too afraid of breaking a nail to rearrange her own furniture, or freaked out and begged them to kill a bug for her; even if it meant driving to her house at 6 in the morning to do it. (Yes, Kelly does have a story to back that up.)

  She doesn't think highly of girls who refuse to learn how to do things for themselves.

  And she doesn't think highly of the guys who fall all over themselves for those girls.

  Maybe I can sort of see how she might look at my whole hire a professional match-maker/have other people pick my husband for me plan looks a little like me playing the role of some Victorian good girl-- waiting to find out who Daddy picks for her to marry.

  I mean...that makes a great romance novel, sure. Because it always works out in the end-- well, except for when the girl's betrothed turns out to be an asshole and she runs away and falls in love with a devilishly handsome pirate.

  My mind has wandered off to other things now and I lean against my kitchen sink with my own glass of cider while I think fondly on one of my favorite books.

  Hmm. Yeah, maybe it does seem a bit disempowering.

  Except, "Look, I get where you're coming from, but I promise I'm not signing up to auction myself off to some man I've never met before. That's not how Raven does it. It's a lot more...involved...than you're making it out to be.

  "Can't you just sit down and do a video call with Raven and her assistant? Please?"

  Kelly inspects the torn skin that circles the palm of her hand while she swirls the cider in her glass.

  Finally I get a reluctant shrug.

  "Does that mean yes?" I ask hopefully.

  "I guess," she says very quietly.

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  "Seriously, Kel," I tell her sincerely, "you're going to like Raven. And I think you're going to feel better about this plan once you understand how she works."

  She gives me a skeptical look.

  "Just keep an open mind," I say, "and remember that this is what I want to do."

  "I know you want to get married, Court," she says, "I'm just worried that you're desperate and grasping at straws and I don't think this is the right way to find what you're looking for."

  "Just talk to Raven, OK? Believe me, you're going to change your mind when you meet her."

  Kelly sips from her glass and shrugs while her eyes are pointed at the floor. "I'm not saying I'm going to join your team," she finally tells me, "but I'll hear this woman out and keep an open mind."

  I know a victory when I see one.

  It's not the jubilant tone of a supportive friend who's totally on board with me that I'd hoped for when I originally put down my deposit with Raven, but it's a start.

  Finally! The two people in my life that I trust the most to make this decision for me are willing to actually make it. Well...will be. I know Kelly is going to fall in love with Raven and Raven will be able to convince my cynical bestie to give it a chance.

  Problem is, Raven really prefers teams of 3. I have a handful of other people in mind, but no one that I'm really dead set on. So now I get to narrow down the candidates so Raven can get started on my case.

  I can't wait till it's all over.

  Sure, I'm excited for the wedding but I'm really looking forward to a life time of partnership with a man that I can't wait to wake up to every day.

  But I might be even more excited about deleting all my online dating profiles.

  Blake

  I'm so nervous.

  I've checked my phone 11 times in the last 15 minutes even though I know there hasn't been an update.

  This morning I got the email from Jessica, Raven's assistant, that Raven has narrowed down my potential matches and contacted my team members to begin their part of the process.

  It took 7 weeks.

  That ought to seem like a ridiculously short time. It ought to make me feel like it went too quick, like Raven rushed it. It oughta make me worry that this woman isn't taking her time or maybe isn't even taking this seriously.

  It feels more like I've been waiting for 29 years.

  OK, like, 17 years. I guess I didn't really care about girls at all, let alone marrying one, until I was about 12.

  Raven's website says her average time to a match is less than a year. In our conversations, she told me that she used to put more emphasis on a quick turnaround and getting her couples legally hitched in a few months. She says she stopped focusing on time and more on timing. And she has a lot less involvement in each couple's wedding plans now too so she can't make any claims about how fast people actually tie the knot after they're matched.

  It's killing me not to go on a texting crusade, hounding the guys for intel.

  I know they're not supposed to give me any details until they've had a chance to meet all the girls that Raven thinks would work out with me but damn! They could still at least let me know that they got started, right?

  Work is hard to concentrate on today so I'm pretty glad it's a light day and the boss is out of the office.

  I pretend to work but I mostly stare at the piece of machinery in front of me and wait for my phone to go off or the clock to run out on the work day so I can clock out and pace at home.

  At 4:49, my phone finally rings.

  I've already put away all the tools and cleaned up the shop and I'm just waiting till it's time to leave. It means this beauty stays another day, but it also means I don't fuck up a 7,000 dollar paint job on a classic car because I'm too busy freaking out to do my job right.

  "Hey man," Don's voice sounds casual and completely normal on the phone, "you wanna grab a beer after work?"

  "Sure, sounds great." I try to sound just as nonchalant.

  "Cool, I should be there by 5:30. See ya."

  The phone goes dead and I stare at it. Should I call him back? Did he accidentally end the call? Did he get ano
ther call and forget to tell me to hang on?

  He did not just call and not say a damn word about finding me a wife, right?

  I think about calling the other guys.

  I don't know if Don invited them down for beers too, or if he wants to talk to me alone, so I nix the urge.

  Our time clock says 5:01 so I punch out and head for my car.

  By the time I get to the bar, I've managed to drive myself into a lather.

  "Hey," Don greets me with a one-armed hug before joining me at the bar.

  I bite my lip and try not to jump all over him with a million questions.

  He flags down the bartender and orders a beer. One of his fancy micro-brews that give us something to make fun of him for while the rest of us are drinking Bud.

  I tense the muscles in my thighs trying to expel some of the excess energy that I'm trying not use by pounding the bar top in frustration.

  Don takes a sip of his brew and wipes the foam off his upper lip with the back of his hand. Just when I think he's finally going to say something, he looks up at the TV and silently watches the game for a few seconds.

  I drum my fingers on the bar. I'm so anxious I can't even manage to take a drink of my own beer.

  "So I got contacted by Raven's assistant today," he finally mentions.

  He's sounds like it's no big deal. Like this isn't the rest of my life we're talking about here. Like this isn't the single biggest thing that I've ever done. Like he doesn't realize if he doesn't stop watching the damn TV and tell me what's going on so far I'm going to have a break down.

  "Yeah, she called and told me she'd contacted the whole team." I'm trying so damn hard to stay calm.

  "You're dying, aren't you, man?"

  My brother in law finally turns to face me and laughs.

  "Dude, you're killin me," I admit with a grin.

  "You know I can't give you any details," he says, "I'm not supposed to talk about it till we go through the first round of live interviews and have a chance to discuss our first impressions with each other and then..." He pauses mid-sentence for another drink and another glance at the game.