The Matchmakers Read Free Page B

keep his eyes and ears open. And don’t ‘Oh, Jude’ me.”
    “He  … he won’t say anything to anybody, will he?”
    “Cal? Never. He’s about as close-lipped as the proverbial clam. Even I have to pry things from him.”
    “But—”
    “But he’s observant. And he understands people. It amazes me, the little things that he picks up. Should have been a detective or something. Details fly right over my head, but Cal seems to see and hear everything that’s going on. Little things. Not just what people do, but why. I never catch those things. I just take things as they come—on the surface. Never notice the deeper side.” Judith used her hands expressively to emphasize her comments.
    Cynthia nodded and smiled. It was true. Judith was an everything-on-the-surface person. One knew exactly what she was thinking or feeling about any subject. She took others in the same way—on the surface. While she, Cynthia, was more inclined to bury things. To feel things deeply yet silently. Judith was never silent. Cynthia often wondered if she talked to herself if no one else was around.
    Judith waved for a refill of her coffee cup. “Cal will watch. But no one—not a soul—will realize that he is watching. He’s like that.”
    “I’m not sure Daddy—”
    “Cal will never let your daddy know, and he certainly will not try to make a match. Never. You know Cal better than that. He’d never interfere.”
    “Then what—?”
    “Sometimes folks can sit right beside each other and never catch on that they would be good for each other. Sometimes folks just need a little nudge.”
    “And who’s going to do the nudging?” Cynthia asked with some trepidation.
    Judith smiled. “Well … I’m not above a little nudging.”
    With fresh cups of coffee they settled back for a few moments of quiet reflection. Cynthia was the first to speak.
    “I sure don’t want Daddy pushed into something.”
    “Nobody will do any pushing, Cynthie. Promise. There’s a big difference between pushing and encouraging.”
    “I don’t know  …”
    “Relax. Maybe Cal won’t even be able to come up with a good prospect. We won’t force the issue, you know.”
    Uneasiness still made Cynthia shift slightly. Force the issue, her thoughts repeated. No. No one will force Daddy. He has a mind of his own. Always has. She supposed that he was safe enough. She managed a weak smile and turned back to her Danish. She would try to put the whole conversation out of her mind.
    “If you happen to see any of those knitted dishcloths at the craft sale, would you pick me up a couple? Mine are getting pretty ratty looking.”

    “Daddy, that button looks about to come off,” Cynthia said, indicating a dangling button on her father’s sweater.
    He followed her gaze. “So it is,” he responded. With one quick little jerk he finished the job, tucking the button into his pocket.
    “Want me to sew it on?”
    “I can do it when I get home.”
    “I’ll do it now, if you like.”
    He reached back into his pocket and produced the button. “Would you? I hate sewing buttons. Would rather change a tire, or pull a pump, than sew on a button.”
    Cynthia waited while he removed his sweater and handed it to her with the button. “That was always your mother’s job,” he explained unnecessarily.
    “I know.”
    She saw the wistfulness in his eyes. She knew he was still lonely. He had adjusted in many ways. But one could never really adjust to the loneliness. Maybe, just maybe, Judith was right. It was possible her father did need someone. Someone to share his days and his long evenings. Someone to help with the little chores of daily living. Someone to care whether he came home.
    As Cynthia sewed on the button, her thoughts traveled to areas she had not allowed them to go to for many months. Maybe I’ve been selfish, she concluded. Maybe Daddy is longing for a life of his own but feels that he has to stay and care for me and the boys. Maybe I need to let him