Once Upon a Matchmaker. Marie Ferrarella
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Theresa suppressed a laugh and asked Cecilia, “What’s the female counterpart to Peter Pan?”
“Happy,” Tracy chimed in without hesitating.
Maizie smiled her approval. “I do like the way you think, Tracy.” Picking up the menu, she began to scan it. “So, what looks good?” she asked the others.
“Offhand, I’d say he does,” Theresa Manetti answered. She wasn’t looking at the menu but at the occupant of a table three tables away.
Maizie looked up at the dark-haired man her friend was referring to. She pretended to look surprised. In reality, all three of them—she, Cecilia and Theresa—knew exactly where Micah Muldare would be sitting, thanks to prior arrangements with Sheila.
“You were saying about Peter Pan?” Maizie teased. And then she leaned forward, squinting just a little. “Oh, I think I know the woman he’s with.”
Now all the women at the table were looking in the direction Theresa was. “A little old for him, isn’t she?” Cecilia asked.
“That’s his aunt, Sheila Barrett. I sold her a condo a few years ago,” Maizie explained, slanting a glance toward Tracy.
“Then she’s really a client, not a friend,” Tracy guessed.
Maizie smiled as she looked at the newcomer. “She’s both.”
“Mother makes friends easily,” Nikki confided.
Tracy looked at the table in question. “Cute little boys,” she commented. Her smile was genuine. And wide.
Maizie nodded in approval. “Yes, they are. He’s doing a wonderful job, raising them by himself, I hear. Of course, Sheila comes by to help out when she can, but there is no real substitute for a mother’s love, is there?”
The question was directed toward Tracy, but it was her own daughter, as well as Theresa’s and Cecilia’s, who chorused in a singsong voice, “No, Mother, there really isn’t.”
Maizie only laughed softly. She had a really good feeling about this. There was a definite smile in Tracy’s eyes when she looked at the children. That was very telling in her book.
Another match would soon be in the offing, she thought with satisfaction.
It would be only a matter of time.
Chapter Two
Maizie waited until she saw Sheila glancing over in the direction of their table, then she raised her hand high and waved at the other woman.
Seeing her, Sheila smiled and returned the wave. That in turn had Micah’s sons twisting around in their chairs to see who was waving at their great-aunt—a title, when they first heard it, both boys took to mean that their aunt Sheila was really terrific. Delighted, Sheila never bothered to correct them.
Micah looked over to his oldest son. “Turn around in your seat, Gary.”
“I am turned around,” the boy told him, confused by the instruction.
It took a second before Micah realized the communication problem. At five, his son took everything literally, just like his brother. “Turn back around,” he corrected.
“Oh, okay.” Doing as he was told, Gary turned his face toward the others at his table. He focused his attention on his great-aunt.
“Do you know those ladies?” Gary asked her solemnly, doing his best to seem every bit as grown up as his father.
“What ladies?” Micah asked. This time, he turned around to see what had caught his son’s attention. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Twisting back around again, Gary said, “Those ladies.” He pointed to the table where he had seen someone waving to his great-aunt.
“Don’t point,” Micah reminded his son patiently.
Total confusion descended on the small, angular face. “But if I don’t point, Daddy, how are you gonna know which table has the ladies?” he wanted to know.
Sheila suppressed an amused smile. She glanced at her nephew. “He does have a point, Micah.”
“I know,” Micah said with a sigh, then tousled Gary’s hair. “He’s got the makings of a great lawyer. Too bad that won’t be for another twenty years or so. I could use him now.”
“Why?” She looked at her nephew a bit more closely. Beneath the smile, there was tension. More tension than usual. “Are you saying that you need a lawyer, Micah?”
“Probably,” he admitted. He upbraided himself for his moment of weakness and flashed her a deliberately wide, easy grin. “Forget that,” he told her. “This is your special day, Aunt Sheila. Let’s not spoil it by talking about lawyers and necessary evils.” Which was the way he viewed lawyers as a whole.
Given a choice, he would have avoided the whole lawyer route altogether, but he had a feeling that this was something where he wasn’t going to be able to rely on just his wits to get him out. And knowing that he wasn’t guilty of what he was being accused of didn’t seem to matter, or help.
He looked at the other three occupants at the table. “I just want to have a nice meal with my three favorite people.”
But Sheila didn’t seem satisfied. Covering Micah’s hand with her own, she looked intently into his eyes. “Well, I won’t be able to have that ‘nice meal’ unless you promise to tell me what’s wrong the moment we get home.”
It was a compromise he could live with. Micah nodded. “Done.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” she told him.
Though he would have wanted it otherwise, he knew that the woman was as good as her word. He wouldn’t be able to put her off.
“I know that.”
For now, Sheila relented. “All right, then.” Sitting back in her seat, she opened the menu again out of habit. “Let’s get this party started.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Aunt Sheila,” Gary reminded her, shifting in his seat restlessly.
The boy had the tenacity of a pit bull. For a second, Sheila’s eyes shifted to Micah.
“Definitely the makings of a lawyer,” she said, agreeing with her nephew’s assessment of his older son. Leaning her head on her hand, she looked directly into Gary’s sky-blue eyes and asked, “And what question is that?”
“Do you know those ladies?” Gary repeated with just a trace of exasperation. He slanted a look at his father. “The ones I can’t point at,” he added.
“I know some of them. The lady who waved sold me the condo I live in. Those two other older ladies are her oldest and dearest friends.”
“Doesn’t she have any young friends? Besides you,” Gary asked. His smile was broad and earnest.
Micah’s older son was seated to her left. Sheila leaned over and gave the boy a long, heartfelt hug. “Best present I ever got,” she told him.
At any other time, Gary would have preened at the compliment. But right now, he was dealing with a more immediate problem. “You’re squishing me, Aunt Sheila,” the boy protested.
She released him immediately, making a show of raising her hands and removing them from his small body. “Sorry, I got carried away,” she apologized. There was a glimmer of humor about her mouth that only Micah took note of.
Greg scrunched up his face. It was clear that he didn’t understand the expression.
“No, you didn’t,” the younger boy told her. “You’re right here. Nobody’s carrying you away.”
Greg