Married This Year 4: Ticket To Ride Read online

  “Ooh yes,” Emily squealed. “That would be so cool. You could go on that show where you marry a complete stranger—or that awful dating one where they pair you up with your complete opposite.”

  “I could, but those were all filmed ages ago, if we’re seeing them now. How about I stick to meeting a good, solid guy who’ll treat me right?”

  They nodded their agreement, and the waitress approached their table to tell them their movie was going to start. They grabbed their bags and headed inside, where they were shown to their seats.

  Shelly whispered to Jordan as they waited their turn, “Is there anything better than Gold Class movies with the girls?”

  “Well, I imagine your wedding will be better,” she whispered back, “but I know what you mean.”

  “Oh, that reminds me, girls.” She waved her hands at Emily and Andrea. “Boyd and I are having our engagement party at the beginning of March. We’ll totally need your help to get it organised.”

  February

  Jordan sat across from her mother, trying to ignore the clock on the wall. She knew she had another ten minutes, or so, before she started asking her about possible suitors or suggesting she go on dates with “that nice man” from work. Every time she came here, it was the same, so she limited her visits, preferring to be tormented over the phone.

  “I read your latest blog post, dear. Did you mean to say that men who ride pushbikes to work haven’t grown up, yet? You know you won’t meet a man if you keep intimidating them with your writing.” Patricia poured a cup of tea for Jordan, conveniently forgetting that her daughter only drank coffee.

  “Yes, Mum, I meant to write that, and don’t worry—anyone I’m likely to date hasn’t read my blog. It has a small niche audience of forward-thinking women.”

  “Oh good. I am looking forward to the day you settle down. If Shelly can find a man, surely you can, too.” She placed a plate of biscuits on the table and Jordan reached for the largest one. Sugar always dulled the pain of a visit with her mother. “Don’t eat too many—you don’t want to get fat.” Ahh… there’s not enough sugar in the world to dull the heavy throb of this visit. “So, tell me what you’ve done since New Year’s. I haven’t seen you once. That’s quite a long time to avoid your mother, even for you.”

  “I’m not avoiding you, Mum. I’ve been busy with work, and Shelly is going to start planning the wedding soon, so we’ve been catching up to talk about where she might like to get married.”

  “Oh, that’s lovely. Will I be invited?”

  “I have no idea, Mum.”

  “Make sure you put in a good word for me. Surely the head bridesmaid’s mother should be invited?”

  “I’m not the head bridesmaid—we’re all just bridesmaids—and I’m not going to ask Shelly to invite my mother to her wedding. If she wants you there, you’ll find an envelope in your mailbox six weeks beforehand, addressed to Mrs P Hoffstaetter. Until then, you’ll have to live with the suspense.”

  “I’m sure you could tell her to invite me. You’re being stubborn.” She sniffed as Jordan grit her teeth and ate another biscuit. She glanced at the clock. Still too early to escape, no matter how torturous this visit was turning out to be. “Speaking of being stubborn, I can’t believe your father insisted on Parker being your surname. There’s nothing wrong with my family name.”

  Jordan sighed and resisted the urge to bang her head against the table. “We’ve been through this Mum. I’m keeping Parker as my last name. It’s shorter and easier for my blog readers to spell and remember. You’re so traditional, I can’t believe you didn’t take dad’s name when you were married.”

  “A woman has to have some independence Jordan. Anyway, are you busy on the weekend?” This was new. Her mother never invited her anywhere, unless she had a boyfriend at the time. It was almost like she wasn’t good enough to parade around in front of her friends unless she was part of a couple.

  “I’m not sure, yet. Why?”

  “Tina is moving house and we need someone to help us.”

  “Tina Jones? I could come by for a couple of hours. I only have the car, though, so I’d have to move the small items. Do you have a removalist coming?”

  “Yes, we booked one weeks ago, so there’ll be no heavy lifting. Tina has a lot of fine china and delicate kitchen items, though, and she doesn’t want those boxes to go in the truck.”

  “Remind her not to over-pack the boxes. You know what happened last time we helped her.”

  “I’m surprised you remember that. It was years ago.”

  “I’m surprised she’s prepared to let us help. That day is seared into my brain, Mother.” She stretched out the words. “I’ve never heard someone wail so loudly about the bottom falling out of a box.”

  “Yes, I do remember that. Didn’t your boyfriend at the time do that?”

  “He did, and after that day, he gradually removed himself from my life. Once again, we have an example of why I don’t bring boyfriends around to meet you.”

  “That one wasn’t even my fault.” She sniffed as she removed the plate of biscuits from Jordan’s outstretched fingers. “I can’t wait to meet your next boyfriend.”

  “Me neither. When he appears and looks likely to hang around, I’ll let you know. Where’s Dad, anyway?”

  “At the hardware store, where he spends half his life. On the way home, he’s stopping by the travel agent.”

  “Again? Where’s he going this time?”

  “He won’t say. He’s insisting that I have to go with him or he’s not taking another trip.”

  “Go with him, then.”

  Patricia sighed. “I know I should, but I don’t want to.”

  “It’s time, Mum. Do you think, if I had a boyfriend, I’d want him to go on holiday without me? Wouldn’t you be nagging me to go with him?”

  “It’s different for us, dear; we’ve never been away together before.”

  “Only because you won’t go!” Jordan tried hard not to raise her voice, but her mother frustrated her so much. Glancing at the clock, she realised she could leave any time now and not appear rude. “You need to sit down with him and choose somewhere that you’d like to go. Do it together, and get him to book it before you change your mind. It’s the only way, Mum.” She stood from her chair. “Listen, I have to go, but call me when you’ve booked it, so I can congratulate Dad.” She kissed her mother on the cheek and almost ran out to the car.

  It’s February, now; I don’t have to come back here until at least April, except for moving day.

  ***

  By the time Tina’s moving day rolled around, she’d decided she didn’t want Jordan’s help, after all, so an entire Saturday stretched out before her. Shelly and Boyd had gone away for the weekend, Emily was studying for an exam for the night course she was taking, and Andrea wasn’t answering her phone. Jordan sat downstairs in the café, checking her email, which basically meant clicking the delete button every three seconds until all the junk mail was gone.

  “Knock, knock!” Knuckles rapped on the table, and Jordan looked up from where she’d been engrossed in her clicking. Those beautiful eyes pierced her soul, and she rolled hers as she remembered that other guy on Tinder who thought he was hot enough to be Luke. “Is this your office, now?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee. She raised one eyebrow, confusion clouding her face as he continued. “I’ve seen you here a few times, now, busy with your computer. I haven’t wanted to intrude, but today I couldn’t resist.”

  “Oh.” She smiled at him as his conversation suddenly made sense. “I actually work here a couple of times a week.”

  “Your boss let’s you work from a café?”

  “She does, because she’s awesome!” Jordan laughed, and it was his turn to look confused. Sighing, she realised she’d need to spell her joke out for him. “I’m my own boss.”

  “Oh, right. I didn’t realise. Can I sit down?”

  “Well, I’m in the middle of—” he pulled out the seat and plop
ped down opposite her, “by all means, join me,” she finished.

  “What do you do that lets you work from cafés?”

  “I run a website. Didn’t we have this conversation the last time you were here?”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe you’re getting me mixed up with all of your Tinder dates.” He grinned at her and she glared back at him. She’d forgotten he knew about those. “So, you live nearby, then?”

  “I might. Why are you asking?”

  “Well, you frequent the same coffee shop regularly. Logic says you live nearby.”

  “Are you some kind of coffee shop stalker?”

  “I could be… for the right girl.” He grinned again and she tore her eyes away from his face—it wouldn’t do her any good to look at him. He was spectacularly handsome, and he knew it.

  He has a pushbike. Keep reminding yourself of that whenever you’re tempted.

  She closed her laptop and took a sip of her own coffee. The silence stretched out between them, and she waited for him to confess why he’d chosen a seat at her table. She suspected he was dying to know how her dates had gone, but there was no way she was going to volunteer the information. Maybe he’d expected her to call for that sympathy date.

  “Got any plans today?” His question shocked her, and she stared at him with a vacant look on her face. “Hello.” He waved his hand in front of her eyes and she slapped it away.

  “I was meant to help an old lady move house, but she flicked me.” Might as well start with the truth. “So, I decided to do some work, instead.”

  “That’s no fun. Why’d you get the flick?”

  “My last boyfriend smashed a box of her precious keepsakes the one time we helped her. I guess she decided she couldn’t spare any of her pretties today.” She tried not to laugh as she remembered that day six years ago. It was an awful memory for more than the shattered china, though: Victor had decided her mother was too much to handle after that, and he’d broken up with her two weeks later.

  Curse my mother and her impact on my love life.

  “So, would you consider hanging out with me?” Luke tried to look casual, but a little twitch in his eyebrow gave him away.

  “Like a date?”

  “Well, maybe, if you want to call it that.”

  “Why do you think I need a date? I met all those guys on Tinder, remember?” He cleared his throat and examined his coffee cup carefully. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, and she knew he was hiding something. Taking a leaf out of Andrea’s book, she decided to ask him straight out. “What are you not telling me?”

  He chuckled to himself and then lifted his eyes to hers. “I have a confession. It could come across as creepy, but I saw you here three Saturdays in a row with your dates. You didn’t appear to be having much luck.”

  “You were here?”

  “I work around the corner, so I come to this coffee shop almost as much as you do, it would appear. I’ve seen you having coffee and going out to your car quite a few times recently.”

  “And you thought you’d throw your hat into the ring?”

  “No, but I did wonder why you hadn’t called me. From what I saw, a sympathy date with me might have been a better experience than the men you’ve been hanging out with.”

  She laughed out loud at his statement—he couldn’t know how accurate he was. Of all the men she’d met, only Richard had been worth seeing more than once. “You’re so right.” She giggled again, “I’ve had the worst luck.”

  “Yet my phone remained silent.”

  “It did. I can’t even tell you why, because I’ll sound too mean.”

  “There’s an actual reason?” She nodded. “Oh, come on, you have to tell me, now.”

  “I can’t. You should probably go find someone else to tag along with you for the day.” She opened the lid of her laptop, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. He was having none of it, though, and he reached over and pushed her laptop shut before she could protest.

  “Come on, tell me.” He frowned at her and waggled his eyebrows, trying to make her laugh and give in.

  “I don’t want to,” she said in a whiny voice. “Don’t make me.”

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me. I’ll even follow you home if I have to, because I know you live close.”

  “No, I come here in my car.”

  “I don’t think you do. I think you park it nearby, because it’s close to your house. I suspect you live in walking distance from this café, and that’s why you spend so much time here, tapping away on your laptop in the corner.”

  She laughed again. He had a way of making her snicker, like everything in life was funny to him. He tapped his floppy fringe and said, “Detective Luke, at your service.”

  “Well, Luke, I guess I’ll have to tell you just to avoid you stalking me to my house. I’m warning you, though, that you won’t like me afterward, so get your last laugh in now.”

  “Of course I’ll still like you. What could you possibly say that’s so awful?”

  “Well, here’s the thing. Now, don’t take offence,” she paused as she thought about the nicest way to tell him he didn’t meet her standards. “I made a list of my perfect guy on New Year’s with attributes that he has to have. You don’t have them.”

  “You’re wrong. I have every attribute a woman wants.” He lifted his hand and proceeded to rattle them off as he counted on his fingers. “I’m tall, women like that. I’m employed, another tick for me. I’m well-spoken, I have dirty-blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, which makes me almost the classic hero type.” He was talking like a television presenter, selling himself to her with every new sentence. “I like animals. Let me think… what else?” He tapped his chin. “Oh, I know, I’m fit.” He said those last two words like a gangster, pushing his chin in her direction and lowering his lids, like there was no question of his attractiveness to the opposite sex. He even winked at her as she started laughing again.

  “Wow—you are so modest. I can’t believe you’re still single.”

  “Neither can I, frankly. I guess the right woman hasn’t come along, yet. Now, tell me what I’m missing from your list that describes the perfect guy. Whatever it is, I can probably get it.”

  “Well, my perfect guy needed a sense of humour, and you sure have that.”

  “Told you.”

  “But… I’m afraid there’s one thing that puts you in the unsuitable category.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You ride a pushbike.” He slid back in his seat, stunned into silence. Of everything he’d expected her to say, riding a bike was obviously not one of them.

  “You would reject this perfect specimen of employed, tall, manhood because I ride a bike?” His voice lifted at the end of his sentence, showing his disbelief. “Because I care for the environment?”

  “I told you it was awful. I decided I would get married this year, and the guy has to have everything on the list going for him. It made it easier to say no to the ones who aren’t perfect.” She watched his face and wished she’d never told him. Any second now, he’d get up to leave. “Sorry. I feel bad.”

  He raised his hand as he screwed up his face, “Hang on, hang on. Did you say you’ve decided to get married this year? Like, no matter what, you’ll be married before next year?”

  “I was very drunk,” she explained. “My best friend got engaged right there on the same night, and my mother hounds me weekly about winding up a single, old spinster. She’s been nagging me since I was sixteen to find ‘the one.’ I can’t take it much longer, so I decided to work extra hard on making it happen this year.”

  A smile was playing around his lips, and she was suddenly irritated with him. How had he managed to get her to tell him the whole story? She’d kept it a secret from everyone, except the girls, and now she’d blurted everything out to him.

  Annoyance crept into her tone. “What are you smirking about? I know I sound desperate. You can leave, now.”

  “No, don’
t make me leave—I’m having too much fun. I was just thinking about how you chose that quality marriage app called Tinder to find your perfect man!” He laughed out loud then, and she glared at him, willing him to get up and go.

  “I admit that it was not the best idea I ever had.”

  “Are there any other vital ingredients for the perfect man on the list?”

  She sighed and decided to get it over with. “Yes.” She rolled her eyes and rattled off the last few items. “He needs to want kids, be happy to travel, and be prepared to treat me well.”

  “Oh, you want the champagne lifestyle, eh?”

  “No.” she shook her head, “that’s not it at all. I want someone who’ll listen to me, be my partner in life, and help out around the house. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

  “Well, I have all of those. I’m perfect, except for the car.” His eyes suddenly lit up and he clapped his hands together once. “I know! I’ll get a loan, and then you and I can go on a date, okay?”

  “No way, Luke. We aren’t dating, car or not. You know about the list, so that’s it.”

  “Oh, come on, that’s not fair. Now I’m out of the running, no matter what?”

  “No matter what.” She nodded and sat back with her arms crossed over her chest. She wanted to leave, but she still didn’t want to let him know he’d been right about her living nearby—more right than he would ever believe.

  “Okay, new plan. Could I have a favour?”

  “What now? Haven’t you annoyed me enough?”

  “Nope. Would you give me a lift to the supermarket? I need to do some shopping, and as you can appreciate, the bike basket doesn’t hold much.”

  “Are you being funny because I mentioned the stuff about the car?”

  “Jordan,” he said her name in a kind of whisper, and she ignored how perfect it sounded on his lips. “Would I do that to you?”

  She wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but she did need to go to the supermarket, so it couldn’t really hurt. “Okay, I’ll take you. No teasing me, though.”

  “Scout’s honour,” he said, and she was reminded of her own pledge on the last day of the previous year.