Playing With Matches (28 page)

Read Playing With Matches Online

Authors: Suri Rosen

Tags: #YA fiction

My entire body began to tremble.

“What are you saying, Ma?” Mira’s face was wound tight like a coil.

“Never mind,” Bubby said. “Leah, pass me some chocolate, why don’t you. Those deviled eggs look delicious too.”

I could have kissed Bubby. The danger was over, right? Through the side of my eye, Leah looked like she was about to cry.

“Ma?” Eli said. Leah’s eyes were bulging out of her head now.

Over at the entrance to the kitchen, Dahlia had a look of panic on her face.

I bit my lip and willed Bubby to keep her mouth closed. But the limelight was too irresistible. I grabbed Bubby’s arm and whispered, “Bubby, please.”

“Don’t be rude, Raina,” Mrs. Feldman said. “Let her speak.”

I swallowed.

“Fine,” Bubby said. “Why can’t we give thanks where it’s due.” She turned to me and took my hand. “Mira, you give her such a hard time but you should be
proud
of this girl. She does nothing but devote her life to helping other people. She spends every single waking minute trying to bring happiness to all kinds of people. Why can’t you see how special she is?”

“What are you saying, Mrs. Bernstein?” Mrs. Levine said, her face tight.

“You want to know what I’m saying?” Bubby said. “I’m
saying
, that our own Raina Resnick is Matchmaven.”

First there was silence.

Then a loud smashing sound broke the quiet as Leah’s plate fell out of her hands and clattered to the floor. The room started spinning. Air sucked out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. Finally someone spoke. “What are you talking about?” Mrs. Feldman said with a snort. “Raina is a
child
.”

“Raina?” Mira said, her eyes wide with shock. “Of course this isn’t true, right?”

A jumble of disbelieving comments volleyed through the air.

Leah’s face was frozen. I felt like I was going to pass out.

At that moment there was only one place I wanted to be.

Hong Kong.

Seriously. I wanted to be far away from Leah, and Mira, and Mrs. Levine, and all the disappointment they were feeling now — and Hong Kong never looked as delectably appealing as it did right now.

“Rain?” Professor K. said, as he peered at me intently. “Are you really Matchmaven?”

I gulped. The room was so silent you could feel the hum of the refrigerator.

I took a deep breath.

“Yes. It’s true,” I said weakly. “I’m Matchmaven.”

Mrs. Levine gasped and her eyes watered.

Professor K. clapped his hands together and laughed. “That’s wonderful! You come up here, young lady,” he said.

I shook my head and backed away. “No, no, no.”

“Come on, Rain. I insist. Don’t be so modest.”

Leah’s eyes were two cluster bombs of shock now.

“Come on, Rain,” Professor K. said. “Everyone wants you to say a few words.” I was the focal point of the room. I inched toward him. Mrs. Levine’s gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet my eyes.

Safe within his matrimonial bubble, Professor K. was completely oblivious to the disbelief that circulated the room.

“I’m delighted that it’s you, Raina.” Professor K. addressed the gathering. “This girl is a bright, caring, and special young lady and Esther and I owe her a huge debt of gratitude. Come on now, Raina.”

He turned his eyes on me and waited. I stumbled up to Professor K. and stood between him and Mrs. Levine. Mrs. Levine was desperately trying to smile, but her eyes were wide with shock. Was that shame I read on her cheeks? Anger? Meanwhile, Leah was turning varying shades of red. I gulped and took a deep breath.

“I just wanted to say
mazel tov
to Professor Kellman and Mrs. Levine. When I see the two of you I feel that you were meant to be together. And … if I hadn’t done it, someone else would. So I wish you the best of luck for a lifetime of joy.” I shrugged and turned to flee the room.

“But Rain, how on earth did this happen?” Uncle Eli said.

“We want to hear!” It was Mrs. Feldman.

Leah shook her head at me. Her face was a kaleidoscope of shock, hurt, and anger. She looked like she couldn’t breathe properly.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting,” Professor K. said. Then he leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Have you met my grandson? Maybe you have a girl for him?”

He clapped his hands. “Okay, everyone. Our matchmaker will now speak.”

I took a deep breath and started talking. At this point there was nothing more to lose.

“I became a matchmaker accidentally, and against my will.” That was met with a lot of raised eyebrows.

“It all started on the bus to school in a strange city where I didn’t know anybody. I met this sweet woman who begged me to fix her up. I’m sixteen years old. What do I know about matchmaking? I only knew one eligible man in the city and this woman was so desperate for a husband, and I was so desperate for a friend. So I fixed them up.”

My eyes pleaded with Leah now, because she was the one I was talking to. Her face remained motionless.

“I didn’t know that he was supposed to go out with my sister. I was so scared when I found out that I couldn’t tell anybody.

“The match worked out, and she raved to a friend. Word spread and I was soon inundated with matchmaking requests by people who had just given up. Given up on matchmakers. Given up on meeting people on their own. Given up on online dating. People who had resigned themselves to a life of loneliness.” I sighed.

The guests were silent again.
Please Leah, don’t hate me.

“I was going to send out emails explaining that this was all a mistake. I’m no matchmaker. But then I got an email from my sister.

“I so badly wanted to help her so I did a practice match with others before attempting to fix her up. But when it didn’t work out, they each asked me to find someone else for them. It kept growing and multiplying. And the more I realized how much pain these people were feeling, the more difficult it became to turn them away. It takes so much time to make a match, and to talk to people, and listen to their concerns. And sometimes you’re pleading with some single to give another person a second chance and other times you’re practically cutting a deal to get them to go on another date. But you’re always sharing their sadness and frustration with them. In the end though? I did it for one reason. For my sister, Leah. I tried so hard. I know that I didn’t succeed for Leah but everything I did was for her.”

I looked at Leah; my gaze was loaded with pleading and regret.

“Professor K. is my friend,” I said turning to Mrs. Levine. Her arms were crossed and she was doing a heroic attempt at a smile.

“I didn’t know who Esther was. She never gave me a last name, but she was so kind and intelligent. I loved our emails. I felt like she could understand things that nobody else could.”

Her face relaxed and she nodded slightly.

“The matches literally took up all my time. Sometimes our perceptions of people can be so distorted, you know? I was like so many people I fix up and couldn’t get past the stupid image thing,” I said, thinking of how I used to perceive Mr. Sacks. How I used to perceive everyone, really.

I hadn’t intended on talking about Esther but once I got going it was impossible to stop. My story just spilled out of me. It felt amazing. I hadn’t even ever told Dahlia the whole thing. It was a Mrs. Marmor moment. Or hour. I suddenly understood why people went on
Oprah
and completely exposed themselves. It just felt so darned good.

“I started tanking at school because of it. All my spare time was devoted to making matches. How could I turn away? They needed me. But with Esther and Professor K. — it seemed like a natural match,” I said. “I’ve done some not-so-nice things in the past. So maybe I deserve to have a lot of people upset with me. But their happiness is all that matters. Thank you.”

The room was silent. No one seemed to know what to do next.

Mrs. Levine observed me. “Rain,” she finally said. I braced myself. This was the moment I had feared more than anything else.

“Please, please forgive me,” I babbled. “I promise you I didn’t know it was you. I just wanted to help. All I knew is that I loved your emails and I knew that you and Professor K. would be soul mates.”

“Rain,” she said quietly. “Give me a hug.” Mrs. Levine leaned over and wrapped me in her arms and the room erupted in applause. “Thank you, darling,” she whispered in my ear.

Mrs. Levine released me as Bubby and Mira appeared next to her.

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Mira.”

Mira shook her head. “Rain, this whole thing is crazy. I can’t believe I didn’t know this was going on the whole time.”

Bubby was smirking. “What’s the matter with you?”

“How did you know, Bubby?” I said.

“You think I’d ever sleep through an episode of
Mod Squad
?” Bubby said. “Do you see what Linc looked like? Of course I knew what she was doing on the computer every night.”

I shook my head, but a tiny twinge prickled me. “But Bubby, why did you out me?”

“Because I couldn’t stand it anymore,” she said. “It was making me crazy already. Everyone blamed you all the time when they should have been
thanking
you.”

“But we didn’t know,” Mira said.

“It’s true,” Mrs. Levine said. “I’m so sorry that you had the weight of this on your own.”

Bubby was not about to let anyone off the hook. “This girl devoted every spare minute to helping other people,” she said in an accusing voice. “And all she got was blame,
Mira
.”

Mira’s face fell. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for you,” she said.

“But
I
was there for her,” Bubby said, throwing her arm around my shoulder.

Mira looked at both of us. “You two are cut from the same cloth.”

“Well, speaking of cloth, I ordered two Red Sox sweaters for us,” Bubby said to me. “And this summer when the Sox come to Toronto I’m taking you to a ball game.”

“I’m in!”

Bubby leaned over and whispered into my ear. “And we’re going to get hot dogs.
Lots
of hot dogs.”

Dahlia was shaking her head in disbelief at the entrance to the kitchen.

I tripped out of the dining room and into the kitchen where Dahlia now stood next to the kitchen counter, her iPad open in front of her. “This is the
craziest
night of my life. I cannot
believe
Esther was Mrs. Levine.”

“Is that
wild
?” I said.

She laughed. “You must have had your heart attack already, because I’m still having mine now.”

“Rain.” It was Leah standing next to me. Her eyes glistened.

Dahlia returned to her iPad.

“Leah, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I … just wanted to fix things. I wanted to find you a husband. I wanted you to not hate me anymore. I love you so much.”

“Rain,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She opened her arms and I flew into them. We hugged each other, rocking back and forth.

“I missed you so much,” I said.

“Me too,” Leah said. “Now I know why I liked Matchmaven so much!”

Dahlia gasped. “I don’t believe this,” she said. “You guys better look at this.”

Dahlia was gaping at the computer. Leah and I peered over her shoulder where MazelTovNation was open.

News of the most recent announcements was on the top of the home page.

Ben was engaged. Leah’s ex-fiancé.

“Mazel tov, Ben and Gila. You two were obviously so in love when I saw you at the Fourth of July barbecue at the Steins’ house in San Diego. May you have a lifetime of joy.”

Leah gasped.

Ben was dating Gila when he was still engaged to Leah.

No one said a word. Leah’s face was white.

“You were right about him disappearing for the barbecue, Rain,” she said in a shaking voice. “It was all just an excuse. Ben used it as an excuse to break up with me.”

“I hate that I was right,” I said.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her lips quivering.

I wrapped her in a hug.

“I feel like I should apologize to you,” she said. “Ben wasn’t honest with me and I shut you out. It was easier to blame you than to face the truth about him and our relationship.”

“I just missed you so much,” I said. “I would have done anything to win you back.”

She let out a laugh through her tears. “
Anything
can be pretty scary with you, sis, so I’m glad you’ve been outed.”

She yanked a tissue from her pocket and dabbed her eyes. “You never trusted Ben, did you?”

“No. And Jake too — although I did hope.”

“You’re pretty smart,” Leah said. The reality of her love life must have suddenly hit her. “My makeup’s running,” she said, then fled to the bathroom.

“What a jerk that Ben is,” Dahlia said, still gazing at the computer. “You know how to spot them.”

“It’s a gift.”

But I felt a flash of anger because being right felt pretty awful. I seemed to be able to sniff out untrustworthy men the way Bronx could smell chocolate.

“I went to camp with him,” a man’s voice said. I spun around. It was Ari — Professor K.’s grandson. He peered over my other shoulder at the Ben–Gila announcement.

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