The Matchmakers (9 page)

It maybe was a little awkward at first, but soon they all settled into an easy rhythm of family outings. Cynthia even dared to think that it would not take many months for their goal to be realized. Her father and Mrs. Weston seemed to thoroughly enjoy each other’s company. And with every outing, the bond among all of them was strengthened.

But perhaps… perhaps it was the two boys who were, unconsciously, the ones to bring the two widowed people together. It was very natural for the four of them to be drawn into a little group on their outings, one boy attached to each adult—discovering things, attempting things, enjoying things.

Cynthia and P.C. exchanged expectant smiles.

“We need to let them get off alone now and then,” he whispered to her on one such occasion.

“But how? Daddy always expects the boys to tag along with him whenever he’s around.”

He frowned. “Then we’ll need to plan things with the boys—and leave Mother and your dad free to do something else.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. We’ll find something. Have you been to the city zoo lately?”

“No.”

“There. There’s one outing right there.” He grinned with satisfaction.

“What if they want to come?”

This brought back the perplexed look. “Leave it to me,” he said with confidence but still looking thoughtful.

Cynthia nodded. She would leave it to him.

Gradually, along with the group activities, there came times when Cynthia and P.C. took the boys off on one or another outing—slyly suggesting what their parents might wish to do with the free time. And then on occasion Cynthia and P.C. requested a bit of free time of their own, coming up with a plausible reason and asking if their parents would baby-sit the boys. The two youngsters still seemed to be the best allies in drawing the two together.

Both Cynthia and P.C. were even more sure of that following a conversation they overheard between Justin and Mrs. Weston one afternoon.

“Would you be my grandma?” the boy had asked wistfully. “I don’t got a grandma.”

The woman had pulled Justin close to her side and held him. “I would love to,” she responded, tears in her eyes. Cynthia caught the look that quickly passed between the woman and her father.

“You can’t,” put in the officious Todd. “Grandmas are family.”

“Maybe we can find a way.” Mrs. Weston managed to address Todd’s comment and ease Justin’s concern with the few words.

“Right now?” asked the usually patient Justin, a shine lighting his eyes.

“If you’re in a hurry, perhaps we can just … sort of pretend.”

“I don’t want to just pretend. I want it to be real.”

Justin’s lip quivered and Mrs. Weston quickly said, “Then I guess we’d better make it official—now. There’s more than one way to become family.”

Todd looked doubtful.

“Have you ever heard of adoption?” she inquired of the two boys.

Justin nodded. He had a friend who had been adopted, whatever that meant.

“That’s a decision that folks make to take someone into the family. Make them a real part of it,” explained the woman.

“Does it work?” asked Todd.

“Sure it works. You run and find a nice sheet of paper and a pencil.”

Justin hurried off to do as bidden.

“This will do until my son makes it official,” Mrs. Weston explained to Todd as they waited.

Todd cast a questioning look toward the man.

“That’s the kind of work attorneys do,” Mrs. Weston went on. “That and other things.”

Todd nodded, his expression indicating that if a real lawyer worked on it, he was sure it would be all right.

Justin, soon back, handed the pencil and paper to Mrs. Weston. Soon she had completed the written document to her satisfaction.

“Now, I sign here—and you sign there,” she informed the boy. “This is just temporary, you understand. Someday we’ll have to make it legal—one way or another.”

Cynthia and P.C. exchanged glances again.

Justin didn’t bother to ask further questions. With a grin he reached for the pencil and printed his name on the line indicated.

“Can you—can I put my name on it too?” asked Todd rather hesitantly. It was done. Mrs. Weston announced with a smile. “Now you can call me Grandma Dee.” Both boys ran off, noisy in their excitement.

Accepting the woman at her word, from then on they referred to her as Grandma Dee. Cynthia thought the woman actually glowed each time they spoke her new title.

“I didn’t know your mother’s name was Dusteen,” Cynthia commented as she and P.C. drove into the city for dinner.

“I’m surprised you found out,” he answered. “She never has liked it. Says it’s a silly name. She always goes by Dee.”

“She signed it as ‘Dusteen’ on the adoption paper.”

He smiled. “Wow! She really was being official.”

“Are you… are you actually going to draw up legal papers?” she asked as she turned to him.

“What do you think?” His smile broadened. “Shall we just sort of take our time and see what happens? As Mother said, there’s more than one way to make it official.” He winked. “Things seem to be moving rather nicely, don’t you think?”

She nodded, her satisfaction reflected on her face. It did seem that way.

“Rather strange,” Cynthia said, her thoughts taking another turn. “Your mother’s name is Dusteen and she uses Dee. Your name is Preston and—”

“I’ve never liked Preston. Apologies to my parents, their extraordinary common sense did not seem to be at work when it came to naming me.” They exchanged a knowing grin.

“Have you ever thought of using your second name? Many people do,” Cynthia suggested.

“My father was Carl. Two Carl Westons in the same law firm could be rather confusing.”

She nodded. “I guess it would be.”

They rode in silence, the radio playing softly, blending in with the smooth hum of the motor.

“But you could use it now,” Cynthia finally ventured.

He looked at her awhile, then agreed with a nod of his head. “Could, couldn’t I?”

She watched his face. He seemed to like the idea.

“Think I will. I like that. Never was crazy about ‘P.C.’ but didn’t know what else to do. Carl Weston. I like that. I think Dad would too.”

He reached across the seat and gave her hand a squeeze. “Thanks,” he said with a smile.

Cynthia flushed slightly. She had only suggested what seemed to be perfectly natural.

“So how’s it going?”

The two women sat with steaming coffee cups before them, picking daintily at their carrot cake—a concession on Cynthia’s part because of their careful watching of calories over the weeks—and Judith spoke the words, one eyebrow lifted as she posed the question.

Cynthia tried not to sound smug. “Good. I think they really do enjoy each other.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Cynthia looked up at the terse comment but let it pass.

“And the boys really love her. Even call her Grandma Dee.” “I know. I’ve heard them.”

They each were silent for a few minutes.

“How do you feel about it?” Judith finally asked.

“Me?”

Judith nodded.

Cynthia was thoughtful. Almost yearning. “I hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed Mama. It’s so special to be able to share time with a motherly—mothering—woman. She just understands …”

“So you aren’t sorry? That we got involved? Sort of.”

Cynthia looked at her friend’s teasing expression, then smiled and shook her head. She could not deny her own feelings. She already loved Mrs. Weston like a mother. Nothing would make her happier than her father deciding to—but she must not rush things. She turned her attention back to Judith.

“If it happens I will be thrilled,” she said simply.

“What do you mean, ‘if’? When.”

“I’m still not interfering, Jude, even though I might wish to.”

Judith nodded.

“And you’re no longer concerned with your father being involved with the mother of Sober Preston Weston?”

Cynthia’s cheeks flushed. She stirred uneasily. “You were right,” she finally admitted, facing Judith. “I judged too quickly. He’s really not like that, at all. He’s—” The color in her cheeks deepened. “Cal was right. He is fun. He does have an appealing sense of humor. And he’s—you know, I was upset with him for not wanting his mother in his life. But he’s really very sweet with her. Honest. In fact”—her color intensified again—“he’s really very thoughtful  … with everyone.”

Judith said nothing, but Cynthia noticed a knowing look in her eyes.

“Okay,” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. “You were right. I’ve said it. Are you going to make me crawl? I’ve learned my lesson. One should never, ever, prejudge another.”

Judith smiled.

“And, by the way, he’s going by ‘Carl’ now. I… I sort of suggested it.”

Judith smiled again.

Fall came and their excursions shifted to accommodate the change of weather. When winter arrived, they shifted once again. From picnics and ball games they went to bowling and sleigh rides. Sunday dinners were usually spent together, from time to time including Judith, Cal, and the kids. Judith began to make little remarks. “As I’ve said before, I’m always Wright,” she stated pointedly more than once.

Cynthia just smiled. It was good to feel like one large family. She had needed that sense of belonging. Of being family again. Cynthia made sure she kept the Saturday morning date for coffee. She still needed Judith’s friendship even though she no longer felt so lonely.