C.E. Murphy - Truthseeker

“Saturday.” Kelly put on a winsome smile so transparent that Lara laughed. “Pizza after moving day. You don’t mind, do you?”

“How could I resist such a heartfelt plea? We’ll be there.” Kirwen arched his eyebrows at Dickon. “Won’t we?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Despite his grumble, the cameraman didn’t sound at all put out, and shook first Kelly’s and then Lara’s hands. “It was nice to meet both of you. We’ll see you Saturday.”

A chorus of farewells followed, and Kelly took up David’s position of balancing Lara as they made their way down the sidewalk toward Kelly’s car. The instant they were out of earshot, Kelly began singing, “Hey there, you with the stars in your eyes!”

“Hnf . The laws of physics don’t allow for stars in the eyes, Kelly.” She glanced over her shoulder as they climbed into the Nissan. “He is awfully handsome, though, isn’t he?”

“If you like skinny blond boys with exotic accents, sure.” Kelly grinned as they pulled into traffic. “You liked him. After all that fuss over his name this afternoon, you really liked him, didn’t you?”

“He’s interesting. No, I mean it!”

“Of course you mean it. You don’t say things you don’t mean. Define interesting, by Lara Ann Jansen’s standards.”

“He doesn’t tell lies, but he’s very careful about what he says. He never said he was from Wales, did you notice?” Lara folded her arms around herself and scooted down in the seat like a much younger girl. “I hate it when people lie to me, Kel. Not about the small things, you can’t help that. But bigger things, it just feels so wrong. But he’s not lying, he’s just …”

“Interesting,” Kelly finished triumphantly. “Who knew it would be the man she couldn’t see right through who would catch her eye?” She pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Of course, if I put it that way it’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? Although, really, Lara, I think if you were trying to get him to slip up, you probably should have been pouring the wine into him, not into yourself.”

“But I wasn’t! I was just having a good time.” Lara caught Kelly’s fingers, squeezing, then released her so she could put her hand back on the wheel. “Thanks, Kel. I never would have gone if it weren’t for you. I had fun. Thank you. And what about you? You and Dickon seemed to hit it off.”

“It’ll be a double wedding,” Kelly said cheerfully.

Lara sang, “Slow down, you move too fast!” then laughed at Kelly’s expression. “What? You started it with the stars in your eyes song, and how often do I get to sing something true?” When she could, or when she heard songs performed with genuine integrity, they always seemed strikingly powerful to her, but it was a rare occasion that either happened. Lara shook her head, smiling out the window. “I don’t want to think about weddings, Kel. I’m just looking forward to Saturday.”

“You remember how you were looking forward to this?” Kelly crouched beside another box as Lara put her hands into the small of her back and pushed forward, trying to pop her spine. A series of small clicks rattled her and she gave a breathless oomph , bending forward to touch her toes and finish the stretch.

“I wasn’t talking about the heavy-lifting part, Kelly. But they say many hands make light work.” Lara craned her neck, watching Rachel and her girlfriend stagger out the door carrying precariously balanced hatboxes. The four women would have been enough, but Dickon and David’s presence sped things along: it only took the two of them to move things that all four women would have had to cooperate on.

“And it must be true right now, or you’d be saying too many cooks spoil the broth. Except there aren’t any cooks or any broth here. God, you’re literal.”

Lara’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t say a word, Kel. That deconstruction was entirely on you.”

“Oh. Well, fine. Going to help me with this?” They took the box up together—filled with clothes, it was only awkwardly large, not heavy—and Kelly led the way toward the door. Dickon’s shadow warned them to stop before a crash ensued, and he leaped aside, flattening himself against the door as best he could when he saw them.

“Want me to get that?”

“Hm.” Kelly peered past the box toward the living room. “So far you’ve gotten the television, the computer, fifteen boxes of graphic novels, all the canned goods in the house, and an oak bed frame. I think we can manage one box of clothes. Go on.” She jerked her chin, indicating he could go past them. He did a credible scurry for a man of his bulk, getting out of the way. They careened through the door and Kelly yelled a curse as she ran into David, who flattened himself more successfully and shot an apologetic look over the box. Lara grunted and they pushed past him, taking the stairs faster than wisdom dictated.

At the bottom, Kelly gave Lara a breathless grin. “Well, at least you can now say you’ve been in a tight space with him.”

Lara pulled a face. “Not that I ever would. Kelly, I don’t work like you do. It’s all right, really.”

Kelly laughed, guiding them out to the moving truck. “No, you wouldn’t, but you could! I know you don’t, Lar.” They shoved the box into the truck, Kelly scrambling up after it to maneuver it into a tight spot. “I’m just afraid you’re not having any fun, all hunched up there at the shop with your needle and thread. I want you to live a little.”

“Your idea of living a little is throwing yourself off a bridge,” Lara pointed out, relishing the opportunity to make a melodramatic and also absolutely honest statement.

“That was only the once! And I had bungee cords!”

“I know, but my point stands. He’s nice, Kelly. He’s interesting. You got us set up on a date. Let me take it at my own pace from here, okay?”

Kelly jumped out of the truck, arms akimbo and expression triumphant. “As long as you’re actually going to, no problem.”

“You,” Lara said as severely as she could, “should quit the bra shop and go into matchmaking. Has anybody ever told you you’re a busybody?”

“You do, regularly. And if I quit working there I’ll lose my discount and will have to start going braless because buying them will bankrupt me. Nobody, least of all me, wants the girls bouncing around unslung. I’d say ‘Ow, know what I mean?’ except you don’t.”

“‘Some of us have fast metabolisms,’” Lara reminded her.

“I don’t think that actually has anything to do with the difference between a B cup and a Q cup.”

“You do not wear a Q cup.”

“Well, you don’t even have Q-tips!”

Lara threw her head back and laughed. “That’s not true. All right, fine, don’t quit. But if you’re not taking up matchmaking full-time maybe you should stop pursuing it at all!”

“Lara, the only other excitement in my life is measuring women for bras.”

“And jumping off bridges. And robo-rally racing or whatever that was you did a few weekends ago. And—”

Kelly ignored her, clearly not to be undone by minor details like truth. “I like a well-fitted bra as much as the next girl, but measuring acres of female flesh doesn’t hold a candle to interfering in my friends’ love lives. It’d be one thing if you could be trusted to it yourselves.”

“Trusted to what?” Dickon and David came out of the stairwell, staggering under the weight of a king-sized mattress. Lara and Kelly scattered away from the truck, guilt staining Lara’s cheeks pink. They’d only stood outside bantering for a moment or two, but others had been working while they played.

She wrinkled her nose. Kelly was right: she was too serious. Easier to admit than to change, though. Kelly’s adventuresome streak had yet to rub off on her, and they’d been friends since college. “None of us can be trusted to run our own love lives, according to Kelly. But she won’t give up her day job to become a matchmaker.”