"My last fortune cookie did say that the unexpected would be both a blessing and a curse, but to beware of those who claim to have all the answers."
"That's a remarkably normal fortune," Lindsey said.
"Yes, well, I also dreamed she and Billy had a secret love child named Zanziboo who had the power to sneeze Tater Tots."
Nat chuckled. "No need to have magic psychic matchmaking skills to know that one would never work."
"Logic would dictate," Lindsey agreed.
The door banged open and the Queen General herself stepped in.
Kimmie's face went jaggedly scarlet. "Mom," she stammered. "This isn't-I'm not-we're-"
Nat was on her feet before Lindsey registered that she'd taken the pins out of her mouth. "Kimmie. Quiet."
Kimmie went mute. Lindsey pursed her lips to hide a smile. Nat and Marilyn weren't the enemies they'd once been, but they were hardly bosom buddies.
"Lindsey," Marilyn said. "By the power vested in me as president of the BRA, I require a word."
"And I require appointments." Natalie made a shooing motion. "You'll have to wait your turn."
"I'm afraid if we're going to have the Battle of the Boyfriends showcased in Rural Reality, we need a commitment now from Bliss's resident matchmaker to judge."
"And that relates to your needing me … how?" Lindsey said.
Marilyn smiled.
An honest, open, about-to-be-a-pain-in-the-ass smile. "My dear Lindsey, we've already discussed this. It's time you came home."
"Now wait a minute," Nat bristled.
Lindsey snagged her shoulder. "Down girl."
"She can't-"
"Watch and learn, young one." She assumed her best I don't care what's in your frosting because I eat babies for breakfast smile and narrowed her sights on Marilyn. "No."
Marilyn's happy faltered. "Bliss needs-"
"No." Lindsey did plenty for Bliss.
"And you've demonstrated excellent judgment-"
"No." Nudging Nat toward CJ was one thing. She'd had her reasons. Noticing that Mikey and Dahlia weren't bad together didn't mean she was a matchmaker. She hadn't even told anyone.
Except Will, and he wouldn't have told Marilyn.
Would he?
"Your father thinks-"
"For the final time," Lindsey said, "no." She mimicked Nat's shooing motion. "We're done here."
"We are not done, Miss Castellano."
"You are so done," Nat said.
"Kimberly-" Marilyn started.
Nat cleared her throat.
"You look lovely, dear," Marilyn said to her daughter. Her gaze turned to Lindsey and lingered a moment longer. She didn't say anything, but even after she left, she was still in the room.
"She's going to cream your spinach," Kimmie whispered.
"She has Billy judging the Battle of the Boyfriends. That wasn't about getting Bliss featured on Rural Reality. It was about her getting all of what she wants."
"She wants you to move home to Bliss and become a matchmaker?" Nat said.
"She wants Lindsey to find me a man," Kimmie said glumly.
"She wants to still be relevant in a time when Bliss is changing." Lindsey shifted on her block. There was nothing Marilyn could take from her. Not her job, not her home, not her self-respect. And even though Marilyn had brought three eligible Bliss bachelors to the last family dinner as prospective dates for Kimmie-under the guise of wanting to discuss some kind of official Bliss business while Nat was available too-Lindsey hadn't played along. "In her own misguided way, she probably also thinks this is her way of showing Dad that she accepts me. And it won't work. On any count."
But Lindsey's stomach still wobbled as though she'd been boxed into a crowded elevator, and her muscles spasmed from the effort of holding still.
"Did she really ask you to help find me a husband?" Kimmie whispered. Her big baby blues were full of the open, vulnerable innocence that made Lindsey's heart ache. Kimmie had spent most of her life placating her mother, which was no small job. And while Lindsey suspected Marilyn wanted what was best for Kimmie, she didn't believe Marilyn could truly know what was best for Bliss's favorite quirky baker.
"She knows better," Lindsey said. "You are the only person who gets that choice, Kimmie. Don't let her take it from you." She twisted on the dressing block. "Did you put a puff on my butt?" she said to Nat, because she was about done with this psychic matchmaker thing. "I've never known a bride who wants her ass to look bigger."
"It's flattering. Trust me, you need the extra curve." She squatted and grabbed her tape measure. "Enough about the dresses. I want to hear about Billy. Why is it such a big secret what he likes on his pizza? Dad won't tell."
"The better question is what he likes in his cupcakes," Kimmie said. "And does he need a baker on the road? Mikey comes in from time to time, but he never talks about Billy at all. Just Dahlia."
"Those two are crazy adorable, aren't they?" Nat said. "I never would've seen that coming. Are you guys going to the tasting at The Milked Duck tonight?"
Lindsey had heard Dahlia sold out of tickets for the Risqué Flavor Tasting within two hours of the announcement on social media that Will would be there. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with half of Bliss crammed into a tiny ice cream shop? Lindsey shuddered. "Too crowded."
"The Billy factor," Nat murmured.
And there went the thunderclouds in Lindsey's match-o-meter. Thinking about Will as Billy was enough to set it off.
Nat squinted at Lindsey. "Not an easy problem to solve, is it?"
"It's not a problem either of us intends to solve." Her reflection taunted her. A spinster posing in a white fluffy wedding gown. "Are you going, Kimmie? You and Dahlia could cater bridal showers together if you created some risqué-named cupcakes."
Kimmie's cheeks went their signature blotchy red. "My mom would string my beans. Heaven's Bakery doesn't do that kind of business."
"So do it on the side," Nat said. "What can Marilyn do to stop you? And then you could have assets that we-all-know-who can't touch."
Kimmie's baby blues were as wide as her cheeks were red. She darted a glance between Lindsey and Nat. "I could do that?" she half-whispered. "I mean, is it legal?"
"Did you sign any kind of contract or agreement with your mother when you started working at the bakery?" Lindsey asked.
Kimmie shook her head.
"Mom didn't have me sign one either when I started working here," Nat said. "Tradition holds enough weight on its own around here."
But traditions were changing. This time last year, having a divorced woman running a shop on The Aisle had been near scandalous. Bliss had embraced the Internet, reality television, and lavish weddings that cost as much as the gross domestic product of some third world nations, but otherwise, the little town hadn't yet caught up to even the second half of the twentieth century, never mind the twenty first.
"Did you sign anything when your mom sold half the bakery to pay for Knot Fest?" Lindsey asked. "Is your name on any of the business documents anywhere?"
"No."
"Then you're probably free and clear to have some fun with Dahlia." Lindsey still had a few friends from law school-it helped that she'd quit acknowledging her gift by then-and for her own piece of mind, she planned to give one of them a call on Monday. See if he could do some digging to make sure Kimmie wouldn't get in trouble with anyone other than her mother for using her talents to benefit herself for once.
They spent the next hour gossiping, making up sexy-sounding cupcake flavors, and pretending Marilyn didn't exist and that Lindsey was normal. When Lindsey left to get Noah from CJ, she hugged both Nat and Kimmie tight.
Because they were home, and they were her best friends, and one day soon-too soon-she would need them more than she could tell them.
WILL WASN'T surprised Lindsey declined his offer to take her to Dahlia's ice cream tasting Saturday night. He had a nice time with Mikey and Mari Belle, but he was mighty glad to get home to Lindsey's house all by himself, loaded down with dirty-named ice cream flavors to boot.
He found Lindsey reading in her living room-a book this time, instead of his Web page-and he got an honest smile when he handed her a carton of S'mores ice cream. "Wasn't on the menu, but I special ordered it for you," he told her.
"Thank you." She scooted down the couch and patted the warm seat. And since Will wasn't one to pass up the opportunity to touch the pretty girl who liked the country boy under all the Billy Brenton sparkle, he settled next to her with his own carton of ice cream, a chocolate number Dahlia called Chocolate Orgasm.
Rightly so.
"Never would've thought Mikey and me were coming here for him to find a girl," Will said. "Like her, though. She's good people. Good eye, lawyer lady."