The Matchmaking Pact. Carolyne Aarsen

      Lily tugged on her hair and tightened her ponytail. “Funny weird.”

      Alyssa thought about this a moment. “Do you think that means he likes her?”

      Lily shrugged as she grabbed her coat. “I asked him if he thought she was pretty and he said, “She’s as pretty as she needs to be.’ I don’t know what that means.” She sighed. “Now what are we supposed to do?”

      Alyssa bit her thumbnail while she thought. “Maybe just wait a day or two? Then we can try something else?”

      “Maybe. But this matchmaking is taking a long time. I know my dad is lonely, because I see him looking sad when he’s sitting on the porch drinking his coffee and I’m supposed to be sleeping. And I want a mom again. Like Josie.”

      “And I want a dad. But I don’t know how to make getting them together go faster,” Alyssa said, taking Lily’s hand.

      Auntie Josie was already at the church, so she and Lily walked down the street from the school. The town didn’t look as messy as it had the day of the tornado, but the trees still looked sad. At least that’s what Auntie Josie always said.

      “I’m tired of waiting,” Lily said as they turned onto Main Street. “And I’m tired of eating grilled-cheese sandwiches and hot dogs.”

      “My aunt makes good suppers. We had something called pesto with our pasta last night. I liked it, but Gramma said it had too much garlic. Gramma doesn’t like much of the food Auntie Josie makes.”

      A truck drove past them with a bunch of wood in the back, and Alyssa’s heart skipped. That looked like Lily’s dad. Was he in town already to pick up Lily? Was their plan going to get wrecked already?

      But the truck kept going down the street.

      “Did you phone your dad and tell him the program is going an hour later today?” Alyssa asked.

      “Yeah.” Lily swung her jacket back and forth, the cuffs of her sleeves dragging over the ground. “Will we get into trouble for fibbing? Your aunt told him it was over at six.”

      Alyssa didn’t want to think about that. “I don’t think so. Because if your dad comes late, and he comes to my aunt’s house to pick you up, maybe you both will eat supper with us. And that’s good for our cause.”

      Lily brightened. “That would be cool. How will he know I’m at your aunt’s place?”

      “Aunt Josie will put a note on the door. Guaranteed.”

      “But would your auntie Josie invite him for supper?”

      “You just have to say how hungry you are. And make sure you let my aunt know how good the food smells. Say something again about how you usually eat hot dogs for supper. She’ll feel sorry for you for sure.”

      “Right. I forgot.”

      “And maybe you shouldn’t drag your coat and make it so dirty. You don’t want your dad to get mad about that.”

      Lily shrugged. “My dad doesn’t care. I never get in trouble ’cause my clothes are dirty.”

      “Really? My aunt doesn’t like it when I get dirty.”

      Lily giggled. “One time Daddy forgot to put soap in the washing machine and my shirt didn’t get clean. I didn’t tell him, ’cause I didn’t want him to feel bad.”

      “Maybe Auntie Josie can give him some hints,” Alyssa said.

      “If our plan works, then maybe he won’t have to do the laundry anymore.”

      “That would be so cool,” Alyssa said with a grin.

      Chapter Three

      “He’s not coming.” Lily stood by the door, clutching the plate of cupcakes she had made for her father’s birthday.

      “He’ll come, honey. Don’t worry.” Josie stroked Lily’s hair, shooting an anxious glance down the street.

      It was 6:36 p.m. The rest of the parents had come and gone, but no sign of Silas. A phone call to his home netted her a terse request to leave a message from the answering machine. So she did, but here she was, half an hour after class and still waiting.

      Anxiety clawed at her. Her grandmother had been complaining all last week about how long she had to wait for supper. As it was, Josie couldn’t leave her grandmother alone too long.

      “Is Mr. Marstow coming?” Alyssa asked, her voice surprisingly perky in the circumstances. Josie was glad the children hadn’t picked up on her worry.

      What if something happened to him? As far as she knew he was all alone on his ranch.

      Another quick glance at her watch: 6:37 p.m. She had to get going. Now. “Are you sure you don’t know your dad’s cell phone number?”

      Lily furrowed her brow, her nose curling up at the same time. “I’m sorry. I forgot. I used to know it.”

      Josie thought for sure Silas would have drilled that information into his daughter’s head.

      “I’ll write a note for your father and leave it on the door. I also left a message on his home phone. Stay right here and don’t move one inch,” she said, adding a stern note to her voice so the girls knew she was serious. “I’m getting some paper.”

      The girls were exactly where she had left them when she returned with the note. She pinned it to the door, hoping it would stay. “Okay. Let’s go.”

      She slipped her purse over her shoulder and held her hand out to Alyssa.

      “Lily wants to hold your hand, too,” Alyssa said. “She doesn’t have an aunt’s hand to hold. Or a mother.”

      Josie glanced down at the mismatched clothes Lily was wearing and felt a touch of regret for the young girl. Though Josie had taken the liberty of brushing Lily’s hair and fixing up her ponytail, it was obvious to Josie the little girl had chosen her own clothes.

      “I can carry my cupcakes in my other hand,” Lily said, shifting them and holding out her free hand.

      Josie took it and smiled down at the young girl. “Then let’s get going.”

      The walk along the river to their temporary home was quick. Thankfully the girls were willing to step up the pace and they got there in a few minutes.

      “Is that you, Josie? What took you so long?” was the first thing Josie heard when she opened the back door to the cottage.

      “Sorry, Gramma,” she called out, dropping her briefcase on the floor and helping Lily set her cupcakes on the counter. “One of the parents hasn’t come yet.”

      She hurried to the living room. Betty Carter was sitting in her wheelchair, looking out over the river, her hands clenched over each other in her lap. Josie paused when she caught a fleeting glimpse of sorrow in her grandmother’s face.

      What went on behind those sharp blue eyes? Did she have regrets? Did she miss all the people she had lost in her life?

      Josie would probably never know. Her grandmother never opened up to her. Never showed anything that might be construed as weakness. And never told Josie that she loved her.

      “I would have liked to know if you were coming,” Betty said, the condemning tone in her voice sweeping away the moment. “A simple phone call would have been considerate.”

      Josie pressed back a reply. Her grandmother didn’t like answering the phone, as she had often told her granddaughter. “I see Sally got you set up nicely,” she said, her eyes skimming over the table beside her grandmother. A teapot, cup and plate of cookies sat within easy reach as did a book and a couple of magazines.

      While Josie was at work, a few women from the church took turns stopping by to check on her grandmother. Sometimes they had to help her