“That’s what I understand.” I tilted my head slightly as I stopped to consider this. “I know that seems odd. When I first heard about Madeline’s pairing with Warren, I was surprised that any dating service would match clients with non-clients, but it does appear that at least some of the couplings attributed to Ms. Cupid have been between a client looking for love and a non-client who was selected by Ms. Cupid to be a perfect match.”
Tom slowly shook his head. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. It seems invasive to me. Besides, how would this Ms. Cupid even know enough about the person she planned to match her client with to know they’d get along if he or she hadn’t filled out a questionnaire?”
“I’m really not sure,” I admitted. “I assume Ms. Cupid resides in the community and knows the people who live here. The matchmaking service doesn’t appear to be a normal dating site where clients sign up and are matched with each other based on a dating profile. It seems to be a lot more personalized.”
“You said that Ms. Cupid arranged for Madeline to run into Warren. How exactly did that play out?” Gracie asked.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. “According to Madeline, who I briefly spoke with on the phone, she received an email from Ms. Cupid after she was accepted as a client telling her to go to the lumber yard and ask to speak to someone named Warren.”
“How did Ms. Cupid know that Madeline would find Warren at the lumber yard?” Gracie asked.
“Warren owns the lumber yard, so I imagine that Ms. Cupid had reason to suspect he’d be there. Anyway, Madeline was told to ask Warren for help selecting wood for bookshelves. She was instructed to draw out the process and ask a lot of questions. Madeline did as she was instructed, which provided the initial meeting between Madeline and Warren. I guess once they met, it really was attraction at first sight. Warren offered to help Madeline build the bookshelves, and now they are seriously dating.”
“That’s crazy,” Tom said.
I shrugged. “I agree. In fact, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Ms. Cupid is using some sort of fairy dust to make people fall in love. My plan is to talk to as many of Ms. Cupid’s matches as possible and see if I can figure out exactly what sort of magic she employs to produce such a huge success rate.”
“I assume she only takes on clients she feels she has a match for,” Tom said.
“I would agree with that,” I answered. “Based on my research, it appears as if Ms. Cupid only accepts a very small percentage of the people who apply as clients. I will say, however, that once she accepts you as a client, the odds of you finding true love within a few months is pretty darn high.”
“I suppose if I was desperately seeking romance, which I’m not,” Gracie stated firmly, “I might succumb to this sort of thing if I’d tried it on my own and gotten nowhere.”
“That’s because you are the outgoing and curious sort who is willing to try new things. Not everyone is.” Tom pointed out.
Gracie winked at him. He smiled. If there were ever two people who should have spent a lifetime together, it was them.
“So, what are the two of you up to today?” I asked mostly to break the awkward silence.
“I’m going to start painting the den, which your aunt wants to convert to a sewing space,” Tom said.
“You’re going to turn the den into a sewing room?” I asked Gracie.
She nodded. “Paisley has shown an interest in learning to sew. I thought I’d teach her, and it does help if the workspace is outfitted correctly. I’m painting the room in a pale blue. Learning to sew can be stressful, and blue is a soothing color. You can join us if you’d like.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I replied. Gracie had tried to teach me to sew when I was around Paisley’s age, but I’d hated it.
“I’m going to head into town while Tom works on the painting,” Gracie added. “I’ve been trying to drop in on Nora a couple times a week.”
Nora Nottaway was a good friend of Gracie’s, and like Gracie, she’d lived in Foxtail Lake her entire life. Nora had been diagnosed with cancer the previous summer and had been receiving treatment. Based on what Gracie had told me, she’d responded well, and there was genuine hope that she’d make a full recovery. I guess with something like this, only time would reveal the answer to the prayers being offered by most everyone in the community.
I glanced at the clock and realized I needed to get going if I was going to meet with Dex and make it to my first appointment of the day on time. “I really need to run,” I said as I poured my coffee into a travel mug. “Tell her that I’ve been holding a special place in my heart and my prayers for her.”
“I will, dear. Have a nice day.”
I waved to my favorite senior couple and then headed out to my four-wheel drive. Although it hadn’t snowed all that much in the past few days, it had been cold, which made the roads icy, so I drove slowly. I loved the scenery along the route into town from the lake house, where Gracie and I lived. The majestic mountains in the background provided the perfect backdrop for the wide-open meadows and currently frozen rivers.
“Morning, Gabby,” I greeted the receptionist at Foxtail News after I arrived at the small office and print shop. “Is he in?”
“He’s in his office,” Gabby answered.
I set my purse on the desk that had recently been assigned to me, grabbed a note pad and pen, and then headed down the hall to Dex’s office. I knocked on the door once, and he called for me to come in.
“I read the column you sent over,” he greeted after I opened the door and entered his office.
“So, what do you think?” I sat down on the chair across the desk from him.
“I like it.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “It’s seasonal with a wide appeal, and there is an element of mystery that your readers seem to love. Have you set up interviews with all of the individuals matched by Ms. Cupid?”
“I have interviews set up with eighty percent of the matched pairs, but there are a few individuals who are being evasive,” I answered. “I’m working on that and have enough to get started. I’m planning to feature several couples in each of the columns that are scheduled to run in the next few weeks.”
“And do you have an interview set up with Ms. Cupid? Or the person or persons behind the dating site?”
“Well,” I backpedaled, “not yet. The problem is that I haven’t been able to track down the person or persons behind the site. I haven’t given up looking, and I’m sure that given enough time, I can figure it out.”
“Maybe you should sign up for the service yourself as a means of getting an insider’s view of how the whole thing works,” Dex suggested.
I thought about Ms. Cupid’s nearly one hundred percent success rate and cringed at the idea. I had lived my life in the shadow of a curse I believed in with all my heart. The last thing I needed was to come face to face with my soulmate. “I think your idea is a good one, and having an insider’s view could provide a certain benefit, but at this point, I think I’d rather write my story from the outside as a casual observer. Maybe Gabby would be interested in finding her soulmate. If she’s willing to sign up, and if Ms. Cupid selects her as a client, I can get an insider’s perspective of the journey every step of the way, while keeping the story at arms-length so I don’t lose my objectivity.”
He nodded. “That seems like a reasonable compromise.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to her.” I gathered up my belongings. “And thanks for supporting the idea. With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I really wanted to do something that fits the season.”
“You hit it out of the ballpark with your series on Secret Santa in December, and New Year’s resolutions in January. I think you are really onto something with the seasonal stuff.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate the opportunity you’ve given me. I want to do a good job for you, the newspaper, and our readers.”