Page 122 of The Matchmaker Club


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Three days and I still hadn’t heard from Lucas. Not even a text. In my imagination, he would have gotten the news and flown straight down just to hold me in his arms again. That’s what I would’ve done.

My grandmother was right—he obviously needed to sort things out. His whole life was expectations and responsibilities. I couldn’t expect him to know what he wanted now, especially when all this was so new.

Or maybe she was wrong, and he wouldn’t come back until it was too late… like Mortimer had done.

A few years after his wife passed, he came back to Cedar Gardens, but my great-grandmother had passed away a year before that. My grandmother said he stayed for a week. Spent most of his time outside, walking the trail to their old cedar tree. Before he left, he said one last thing to my grandmother: “There are many paths in this great big world, but eventually, they all lead back to the one place you need the most. Don’t waste time taking the longest road.”

And she never saw him again.

“Taylor, shouldn’t you be getting off to work?” my grandmother’s voice snapped me from my daze.

I looked up at the clock.

Shit. I had ten minutes to get out the door.

I downed the rest of my coffee and shoveled in one more spoonful of cereal.

Grandma grabbed my bowl. “I’ll take care of that.”

“Thanks.”

“And do yourself up nice. Don’t want to look like you just rolled out of bed.”

Huh?

I did the best I could with the time I had and booked it to work.

* * *

Thelma was all smiles this morning, and so was Ben. Even Mack was bitten by their little love bug and in a better mood than usual. I almost wished they’d start fighting again to change it up a bit. I was so not feeling it today.

At the end of the lunch rush, Charlie came in and took his usual seat. “You take your break yet?”

I looked over at Thelma.

“You go ahead, I’ll take mine later.”

Today Charlie and I split a turkey club with fries and Mack told him it was on the house.

Boy, hereallymust be in a good mood.

Charlie dipped his fry in ketchup. “Have you read Mortimer’s letters to Marlena yet?”

“Not yet.”

“What’s keeping ya?”

Because I wasn’t ready to know the truth about why he didn’t come back.

I bit into the tip of the triangular sandwich and shrugged. “Not much in the mood for unhappy endings right now.”

“Too bad, I thought you might have wanted know he did come back for her after all.”

A fry fell from my fingertips. “Mortimer came back for her?”