Playing With Matches (16 page)

Leah:
His dog.

Matchmaven:
He brought his DOG on a DATE?

Leah:
Because of you.

Matchmaven:
Is he crazy?

Leah:
He said you told him to bring the dog because he gets nervous.

“I never told him to take his dog on the date,” I said out loud to myself.

I must have been yelling because the caretaker poked his head out of the utility closet. I pushed open the door to the women’s bathroom and slipped inside.

The pink-tiled bathroom had two stalls and I stepped into the unoccupied one. If this was a battle for air in here, I’d say that the air freshener was definitely taking down the oxygen. I gasped for breath as I locked the door and lowered myself onto the closed toilet seat.

Leah:
I have to tell you. Despite what Daniel claims, I’m not even sure that it’s really a dog. It might actually be an antelope.

I remembered now. It was a Great Dane.

Leah:
Well, anyway, Maven. The dog kept slobbering on me. I spent the whole time in the car dodging the flight path of his gob but he got my blouse.

I could feel my teeth grinding together. Please let this not be another disastrous date.

Leah:
Anyway, they wouldn’t let Bronx into the coffee shop and he seemed really upset.

Matchmaven:
Why would Daniel be upset? You obviously can’t take a dog into a coffee shop.

Leah:
No, I mean Bronx was really upset. LOL.

I giggled, and my laughter pinged across the bathroom.

Leah:
So we took him to the park and threw balls.

Matchmaven:
I really hope you’re not mad at me.

Leah:
No! It was actually funny. Daniel’s sweet. I like him.

Matchmaven:
Really?

I heaved a sigh of relief. I may have underestimated the place the dog occupied in Daniel’s heart, but there seemed to be room for some connection with Leah in there too. She was always such a sport — I missed her so much. But if Rain couldn’t have her, at least Matchmaven could for a bit.

A clatter shattered the quiet of the bathroom and echoed against the polished tiles. A round plastic blush compact tumbled to the floor from the next stall and landed inches from my shoe. There was a pause while I waited for a response from Leah.

Matchmaven:
You still there?

Leah:
Whoops, I just dropped my blush.

I lost my breath.

Leah:
I’m hiding in the bathroom at an engagement party.

Before I could respond to her text, I looked down with horror as a hand that looked a lot like mine reached out and snatched the compact from the next stall.

My heart skipped a beat.
Leah was in the next stall.

I had to get out of this bathroom now. Maybe if I flushed the toilet, I could open the door and make a run for it in less than five seconds.

I flushed. I opened the door a crack.

Leah stood in front of the sink tapping into her cell phone.

I slammed the stall door shut, panting. I was trapped. I glanced down at the phone. Thank goodness it was on silent.

Leah:
I so appreciate you helping me.

I steadied my breath, despite the air “freshener” so I could finish this conversation and get out.

Matchmaven:
So you want to see him again?

Leah:
LOL.

Matchmaven:
Does that mean yes?

Leah:
I could deal with a man with a dog, but I’m afraid what we have here is a bison with a man. Daniel was nice but it was just too weird. Please keep looking for me?

Matchmaven:
For sure.

I settled on the toilet and waited. I checked my phone and five minutes later it still didn’t sound like the door to the bathroom had opened.

Soft sobs soon filled the bathroom. Leah was obviously not going anywhere.

“Mom?” She was talking to my mom now? “I’m so depressed,” she said, weeping into her phone.

“I can’t stand these engagement parties, especially because I really did have my eye on Jeremy. The dating scene is awful in Toronto. I hate that I’m only here because I was going to marry a Torontonian and now I’m so stuck here and lonely.”

They chatted for half an hour while I shifted on the toilet seat, my bum increasingly prickling with pins and needles that radiated down my leg. If she didn’t wrap it up, my entire lower body was going to lose all circulation and I’d have to be dragged out by my arms.

“And Rain is so irresponsible,” she was saying now.

I held my breath. I couldn’t stand to hear what was coming but I had nowhere to escape. “She’s acting really weird — I don’t know what’s up with her. She just disappeared one evening last week and then snuck into the house at midnight. Honestly, she’s so immature.”

My eyes stung as she went on about me.
To my own mother
. She threw in a blow-by-blow description of Bubby’s party gone bad, just in case Mira hadn’t sufficiently alarmed my mother.

“I’m still upset with her about Ben,” Leah said.

She listened while my mother said something to her.

“I know he was having doubts, Mom, but I think the idea that she wasn’t being shipped back to live with you guys after she got kicked out of her school really bothered him. And having her move to Toronto was just the final straw. Like we were newlyweds that were going to have to babysit her.”

She sighed. “I have no friends here and there’s hardly anyone to go out with.”

I buried my head in hands, just hoping this phone call would finally end.

“Thank goodness I found Matchmaven,” she was saying. “I mean I just had this bizarre date with this monster-dog but the matchmaker is so sweet. I really like her. I wonder if she’s my age. She’s just got a young sensibility, very funny. I’m so lonely, Mom. I’ve never felt so low in my life. I feel so hopeless.”

She finally ended her rant; I heard the water running and then she left the bathroom.

After a few minutes the coast was finally clear. I reached out and leaned over to unlock the door of the tiny stall, then rose from the toilet but all the circulation had drained from my feet and they had become rubber tubes. I collapsed on the floor with a loud crash.

The outer door to the bathroom burst open and Leah flew in. “Is everything okay —?”

Her eyes narrowed when she saw me. “Rain?” She bent over and pulled me to my feet. “What are you doing in here?”

I grabbed her arms and attempted to balance on my wobbly legs like a newborn foal. I clutched the sink and leaned in on my arms.

“My stomach was upset,” I said. “I think it was the under-baked brownies. You should never eat that stuff. It’s really not safe.”

“How long were you in the bathroom?” She took a step back and studied my face. “Were you
following
me?”

“No! Of course not!”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’ve been acting very strange lately.”

She turned and marched up the staircase back to the catering hall before I could say a word. I stood there, alone and deflated. Because apparently the more she liked Matchmaven, the less she cared for me.

chapter 18

I’m Such an Idiot

When I got home from school the next day, Mira was cooking canned salmon with boiled potatoes, which is unfortunate because, in my opinion, there’s no justification for any food to ever be boiled.

I had received three new emails during the day, so I had a lot of work to do that night. There was a whack of homework to get through, but I’d become quite skilled in convincing myself that I’d actually get to it “later.”

My nightly routine was to respond to each emailer and thank them for their interest, and offer a vague message of encouragement. Since I was only trying to fix up Leah and Ilana, I still depended on the rumours of my legendary matchmaking to circulate so that more guys would contact Matchmaven.

I lay on my bed reviewing the emails, hoping a better match would appear for Leah. I couldn’t really update my spreadsheet until the house was empty and I could insert the flash drive into the kitchen computer. The unpleasant smell of the fish cooking wafted into my room, whetting my appetite for food more suitable for a teenager than a black bear. I wandered downstairs to the kitchen to forage for chocolate.

“Oh, I’m glad you’re here,” Aunt Mira said as she lifted the lid from a pot, releasing a fetid fog into the air. Bubby sipped her seltzer and watched me make my pilgrimage to the pantry. “I have to book a flight for you and Leah for the Saunders bar mitzvah in Brooklyn. I think it’s safer to go Thursday night rather than Friday morning. What do you think?”

As if there was any question. “Probably Thursday,” I said, as I rooted around for some dried mangos.

“Raina, can you grab me one of those delicious
salt-free
crackers?” Bubby said with a wink. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the box.

“I’ve also got great news,” Mira said. “Uncle Eli is available to tutor you tonight.”

“Mrs. Levine strikes again.”

“Raina,
please
.” Mira glowered and did the dramatically slow exhale thing. You know — the Internationally Recognized Symbol for Disdain. At least with the Bernsteins you always knew where you stood. “Mrs. Levine is trying to help you succeed, and from what she told me this afternoon, it’s not happening. She mentioned that you got a 52% on your most recent history paper.” She grabbed a pitcher of water from the fridge. “To be honest, spare time isn’t always a productive asset for everybody. It can lead to … trouble.”

Because throwing a party for seniors is the kind of thing that only alienated and rebellious teenagers do. Bubby let out a cough from the kitchen table as she turned the page of a newspaper.

“Rain, I’m more than happy to help you,” Eli said as he entered the kitchen, removing his suit jacket.

“It’s really not necessary, Uncle Eli.” It was less a statement than a plea. “I can manage.”

Mira carried the pot to the table. “If Uncle Eli is willing, just be thankful. His time is valuable.”

Talk about valuable. The man was a top litigator who billed his clients upward of $600 an hour. This was going to be the most expensive tutoring in recorded history.

“Let’s start right after dinner, Rain,” he said with a soothing tone as he sat down at the table. “We’ll work in my office.”

The two hours in his office passed relatively painlessly and included some choice stories about Bubby in her younger days. He also passed along some good news.

“Mira and Leah are moving the computer to the den now,” he said.

“Really? Why?”

“We’re hoping that it might be a bit quieter for you to do your homework there. Really, Bubby is the only one who spends time there and of course she doesn’t use the computer.”

I stifled a grin.

“I know what you’re thinking, and I agree.” He chuckled as he rose from his desk. “Thank
god
she doesn’t know how to use a computer.”

Eli released me at 9:30 p.m. I bolted to the den where the computer now sat next to the window. Bubby was dozing on the couch, with an old Sox game playing on the television. I instantly recognized the 1975 World Series. It was the bottom of the twelfth inning, which meant that Carlton Fisk was soon going to make some magic.

It was impossible to resist. I landed on the couch, jolting Bubby awake. She yawned, opened her eyes, and glanced at the TV.

“You’re just in time,” I said.

“Look how lucky,” she said. “Raina, go get some chips.”

I grimaced. “Bubby, please.”

“Oy, don’t be so afraid of that aunt of yours!” she said. “Just go get us something to eat.”

I reluctantly rose to my feet and trudged to the kitchen. Bubby was a constant predicament in waiting so I searched the pantry for that elusive snack; something tasty but not perilous. Apparently there was no such thing so I just peeled two bananas, cut them into small circles, and arranged them on a paper plate.