Looking for Love (12 page)

She paged
through the notebook, the smell of its yellowed pages bringing back
memories. Happy and frustrating memories. Every time she’d been mad
at Mom, she’d missed Dad. But the way Mom spoke about him, she
didn’t think he could help her. “He’d be a bad influence on you,”
she’d said. So, she’d turned to her friends and then later
Ross.

Ross had
become like a substitute for her father. Farther on in the notebook
were pictures cut out from magazines of her ideal man. She smiled
at her naïve choices. Then, right at the back, she found a photo of
Dad.

“
I thought I’d lost the photo,”
she spoke to the empty room. Tenderly, she stroked the glossy
finish. Her dad looked very eighties in his puffy-sleeved jacket
with the sharp collar and his weird baggy work pants. A giggle
erupted. Then she zoned in on his face. An ache bloomed in her
heart.

Oh, I miss
him. Mom always made me feel guilty for missing him.

Anger burned
in her gut. But Mom had been the one there for her all those years
growing up. Dad had never bothered to visit, had stopped writing.
Mom had taught her to be responsible, to plan ahead for the future,
to think carefully about every decision she made.

“
I forgive you, Mom,” she breathed out.

Well, that was
pretty easy. Why did she still feel so knotted up inside?

The anger
really came from her dad. She stared at the photo. Could she ever
forgive him for leaving like that?

“
Snap out of it. You’ve just come back from an awesome second
date, girl!” she chided herself.

Slipping
through to the kitchen, she made a late-night hot milk drink and
went off to bed, the notebook left on her couch.

***

In the last week, Ross had spent
every spare moment fixing up the house. He had to admit, the
satisfied feeling
of his progress did wipe away some of the ache in his gut.
Not all of it, though. To add to the suffering, his body hurt from
head to toe from all the physical exertion, but too bad, he wasn’t
about to stop.

While he
painted the newly-fitted window frames a happy green, he tried to
keep his mind off his dumb-ass decision to tell Ella how he felt
about her, but nothing would work.

No.
He shook his head. He’d done the
right thing. She had to know. He couldn’t have kept it quiet any
longer. The only problem now was he wouldn’t see her again. He
couldn’t go back there, ever. As difficult as the decision had been
to make, he had to stick by it. It was all or nothing. Have her for
himself as his woman in every sense, or not have her at all. How
could he remain mere friends with her? And he’d always be reminded
that she didn’t feel the same way. As much as he cared for her as a
person, it was impossible not to be hurt by her lack of romantic
interest in him. Yes, she was right. They should have just remained
friends.

Too late to go
back and somehow manipulate his heart and stop it from falling for
her.

Sick. The
whole scenario sucked.

Wonder if her precious
‘album’ could show
her that he was the right person for her.

He slapped the paintbrush bristles against
the aluminium window frames and groaned when streaks of green
messed up the fresh coat of cream paint he’d applied to his outside
walls.

His cell phone
buzzed a message alert tone in his pocket. What now? He had paint
on his hands, and although his overalls already resembled a
painter’s palette, he didn’t fancy messing up his new
smartphone.

Another buzz came through. Curiosity got
the better of him, and deciding he could do with a break, he
finished up the frame and went inside to clean his brushes. The sun
had started going down too, making it harder to keep in the lines.
Once he’d cleaned up and fixed a quick snack, he sat down by the
kitchen table to read his message.

Ella.

Should he even read it? What if she’d
realised she did love him back? Unlikely, but…

Hi Ross. I hope you’re
well.
I’ve
been thinking of you. I have an idea. I hope you’re game. I’d love
some help setting up a website for the business. I want to reach
people in the whole of South Africa, not just in Richards Bay.
Seeing you’re the one at your work who set up the website and you
did that website design course years back, well, I thought of you
immediately. Now, I know we decided to take a break. This is
different. I won’t be around much. Pauline will help you. She’s
pretty good on the design side of things. I think you would make a
great team. I’ll pay you both, of course. I know you’ve wanted to
do up your house. Maybe the extra will help towards it. What do you
think?

What? The
absolute cheek of her. He smiled. Typical Ella. Full of nonsense,
always expecting him to be the saviour to solve her unsolvable
problems. Probably why they’d formed this strange symbiotic
relationship over the years. He’d have to say no. Have to hurt her
and turn her down.

Dragging his
feet to the other side of the kitchen, he scratched in the fridge
for a beer. He pulled open the can and tried to chug it down but it
seemed to lodge in the pipe down to his stomach.

How would he turn her down
without becoming despicable in her eyes? Maybe deep inside, he’d
hoped his love confession would get her thinking and pondering all
their years together and she’d begin to feel the same way. He’d
hoped that absence would make the heart grow fonder. Now this
changed the whole situation. He couldn’t turn her down without
being heartless and…honestly…he could do with the extra cash.
Working on a website seemed much more
appealing than painting, laying tiles, and
fixing plumbing.

Ross
typed up a reply.

“
Fine, I’ll do
it.
”

Ella:
Don’t feel obligated to.

Ross:
I need the cash.

Ella:
You’re still upset with
me.

Ross:
Don’t talk about it. We decided not
to.

Ella:
Sorry.

Ross:
You can’t apologise for your true
feelings.

Ella:
Ross, I hate this. I never wanted it
to come to this.

Ross:
So, it’s my fault?

Ella:
I didn’t say that. Maybe we shouldn’t
have made the stupid rule in the first place. Playing hard to get
and all that.

Ross:
Maybe.

Ella:
Are you sure you want to help me?
What about your feelings about the business?

Ross:
My feelings were all due to worry
that it would bite you in the butt later. If I help you, maybe I
can stop that from happening. But please, El, I’m not your saviour
anymore. I can’t solve all your problems.

Ella:
What? (hurt smiley) You think that’s
what I see you as? That I take advantage of you?

Ross:
No, I like helping you but things
have changed. I can’t always be there for you. It’s not safe
anymore.

Long
silence—long enough for the beer to be emptied.

Ella
: I know. I don’t want that, too. All
I want is help with my website. Sure it’s okay?

Ross:
Yes.

Ella:
Great. Thanks. I’ll pay you a good
fee.

He sent a
thumbs-up smiley and put his phone down, then went down the passage
to run a nice hot bath to soak.

Ella watched Pauline sitting next to Ross
in her office. Their gazes faced the computer screen and they spoke
awkwardly with one another. Pauline kept on looking at her as if to
say, “How could you?” but she’d agreed to the whole set-up.
Reluctantly at first.

Ross spoke
business-like. In fact, since he’d arrived, he’d spoken very little
to her except for formal greetings and yes and no answers to her
questions. Very different to the relatively open message
conversation they’d held a week ago.

She wished they could work
somewhere else. Stupidly
, she’d set up the extra computer in her office
because of the large desk space, but now, she’d have to watch him,
feel his withdrawal and sense Pauline’s angst. How would she
concentrate on her work? She had about ten couples to try out
in
The
Album
.

She took out the sacred book,
running her palms and finger pads over the cover. The rough ancient
texture sent shivers through her. Or was it the magic? The book
drew her. She often spent her spare moments paging through the
blank
sheets,
trying to imagine who would grace the pages next to her face.
Should she have given it over to Carol and let her run with it?
Find answers to her heart? Seeing Ross and Pauline now brought out
the despair she’d pushed aside for years. Would she ever find this
elusive ideal man? Was there such a thing? When you really, really
wanted to believe in something, you did. But doubt eroded her
beliefs on a day like this. Especially when one of her clients just
wouldn’t match with anyone.

“
I’m going to the other room.”

They looked up and nodded at
her, oblivious to the turmoil inside. And Pauline and Ross always
seemed to pick up her turmoil. Had they gotten wind of her
matchmaking scheme? Were they angry?
Too bad. I’m helping
them
.

Sitting at the mini bar nursing
a glass of water with ice, she set to work on
The Album
, careful not to spill her drink on
the heirloom. Now to try out three more women for the man who
refused to be matched. He seemed like such a nice guy. Nothing
particularly sexy in her books, but definitely could be another
woman’s type. Nothing off-putting about him, so why the bad
luck?

The Album
sprang to life as soon as she
put the second photo in. It didn’t light up as much as the first
time but she experienced the same jolt of electricity through her
body while the pages clung to her hands, refusing to let go. Once
the shimmers had passed, the papers fluttered as if in a breeze and
she turned to the next page. Nothing. Only about five pages with
him and the pretty woman together.

She worked the
second one and the third.

“
Argh.” She flung the last photo
down in frustration. What would the man think? He’d be a potential
bad word for her business—
oh, she couldn’t match me with anyone. Useless
woman, didn’t find a single suitable candidate.
And she had plenty of eligible
ones on file.

She could just match him up with one of
the mismatches and move on with her life. Work with an easier
client. But her conscience wouldn’t allow that. How could she bring
more heartache to the world? What effect would another broken
relationship have on the man? And the girl he went out with? Would
it be the last straw that made them give up on relationships
forever and decide to remain single? Would they give up hope in
love? A bit like her.

Picking up another man, she
tried him with the third photo she’d flung down.
The Album
jerked and worked
and then filled up with glorious pictures. Six kids! Phew, should
she match them together? Imagine having six kids. The family photo
of all the grandkids and extended family near the end of
The Album
showed people full
of life, smiling faces, healthy complexions, complex, living
creatures. How could she not give them the news?

She stared at the picture for a
long time. Was she playing god? This didn’t only bring people
together
; it
made people appear on the earth. Couples birthed children. What if
she matched together a couple that birthed a serial killer? Or the
new president who moved the country into a new dimension? The
inventor of the first successful time machine?

Her hands shook as she removed
the photos and tried out another man with the third woman photo.
Dreadful. Divorce, one kid. Heartbreak. Yet, could that kid be the
new medical researcher who came up with an Ebola cure? Did happy
families automatically produce valid humans? She hadn’t exactly had
a perfect family life. Neither had Ross. And Carol. Imagine the
world without her friends. What if someone had crooked the books
and made
her
not exist because they knew her parents would end up
divorced?

“
I can’t do this anymore.”

A noise of footsteps behind her broke her
intense thoughts. She turned to look right into the piercing eyes
of Andrea.

“
What’s wrong?” Andrea came up to her and hugged her from the
side.

“
I can’t play god
anymore.”
Ella sighed.

“
What do you mean?”

“
The couples I match—they have children, right?”

Andrea pursed her lips.
“So, that’s a good
thing, isn’t it?”

“
Yes, but if a couple’s relationship doesn’t last, does it mean
that the child they brought into the world isn’t good or useful or
supposed to exist because their parents messed up or weren’t meant
for each other?”