Soon To Be Brides. Joan Elliott Pickart
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“It’s nuts, that’s what it is. You plan to just inform the adoption agency that a friend of yours is going to tag along for the ride? Yeah, right.”
“Yeah, you are right,” Bud said, appearing extremely pleased with himself. “That’s exactly what Marsha and I would do. One of the couples of the five families in our group is bringing the new grandparents along, and the one single mom has been advised to have a friend with her to help with luggage and what have you because there are no bellhops or redcaps in China.
“All the agency needs to know within the next few days is how many people are actually going so they can make arrangements.”
“Oh,” Matt said.
“Look, don’t give me an answer now, but promise me you’ll think about it. It’s a win-win situation, Matt. You can’t be tempted to sneak in some work time, plus you’ll be sharing a very special event with Marsha and me and meeting your new goddaughter.
“This is Monday. The match pictures are winging their way west even as we speak. On Wednesday night everyone involved is coming to our house at six-thirty for a potluck dinner to receive the pictures…God, what a moment that will be… and to get instructions on dos and don’ts while in China so we don’t offend anyone over there.
“It’s called a culture training meeting and your cousin Carolyn will be conducting it. Carolyn isn’t going on the trip because she’s pregnant, as you know. Elizabeth Kane, the director of the agency, will be accompanying us.
“All I’m asking at this point, Matt, is that you attend the potluck at our house Wednesday night, having kept an open mind about possibly joining us on this trip. What do you say? Will you come Wednesday?”
Matt sighed. “Yeah, I guess so. It can’t hurt to listen, I suppose, and I’ll be able to see the picture of your daughter. But China? It’s not exactly around the corner, Bud.”
“No, it’s a long, long way from Mercy Hospital in Ventura, California, my friend, which makes it a custom-ordered place for you to travel to. Hey, it beats going fishing.”
“That’s a very good point,” Matt said, raising a finger. “I’ll be at your house Wednesday night, but I’m not promising anything.”
“Fair enough,” Bud said. “There’s something else that you ought to consider, too. A MacAllister going on a vacation is no big deal. But a MacAllister who is on a doctor-ordered medical leave? That’s news and you’d be kidding yourself if you thought the press wouldn’t get wind of it. If you stay in Ventura you’ll be hounded by reporters wanting all the details regarding your health.”
“The thought of that is enough to make my ulcer go nuts,” Matt said, getting to his feet. “Do they have any forks in China? I have never been able to master the use of chopsticks. It’s not going to do your reputation as a doctor any good if your patient starves to death while accompanying you to a foreign country, chum.”
Bud laughed. “You can pack a fork in your suitcase just to be on the safe side of that question.”
“This isn’t sounding like a thrill a minute, Mathis,” Matt said, heading toward the door of the office. “Yeah, yeah, I know, it beats going fishing. I’ll see you Wednesday night.” He opened the door, then turned to look at Bud again. “Potluck. What should I bring?”
“An attitude adjustment.”
“Hell,” Matt said, then strode out of the office.
By Wednesday night Matt’s attitude was well on its way to being adjusted.
He parked his SUV behind the last car in the row in front of the Mathises’ large ranch-style house, crossed his arms on the top of the steering wheel and glowered into space.
China, here I come, he thought. The last two days had been a study in frustration as he’d started the process of bringing the hospital’s attorney up to date on the pending files that needed to be brought to closure. There was no doubt in his mind that the attorney would be calling him every two seconds to double-check something, causing him to want to march back over there and do it himself.
Stress to the max, that’s what it would be, and his blood pressure would probably go off the Richter scale, making it impossible to get a passing grade on Bud’s crummy physical.
Did he want to go to China and starve to death because he couldn’t master the use of chopsticks? No. Was he in the mood for tours and sight-seeing trips with the typical bit about “On your left you will see…”? No. Did he feel like being surrounded by a slew of nervous new parents and babies who would no doubt wail their dismay at the sudden changes taking place in their lives? No.
Hey, he loved kids, which was a good thing since he was a MacAllister and was in proximity to the diaper brigade in vast numbers at every family gathering. But the scenario with these babies and these parents was far from the norm, and the new mom and dad’s tension would be sensed by the munchkin and they’d all be wrecks.
Nope, he didn’t want to go to China with this group, Matt thought as he rang the doorbell, but the opportunity was there and it certainly would put distance between himself and the attorney from hell. So be it.
The front door opened and a smiling Marsha Mathis greeted Matt. She was a tall, attractive blonde in her early thirties, who immediately kissed Matt on the cheek, then slipped one arm through one of his.
“I’ll give you a quick introduction to everyone, Matt,” Marsha said, “but if no one remembers your name the first time around don’t take it personally, because we are coming unglued. Carolyn arrived just moments before you did and she’s about to pass out the match pictures. I can hardly believe this is really happening after all these months.”
“I’m very happy for you and Bud. That little lady waiting for you in China is a fortunate kiddo to be getting parents like you two.”
“Oh, we’re the ones who are counting our blessings,” Marsha said as they entered a large family room beyond the living room. “Everyone, this is Matt MacAllister, who will hopefully be accompanying us on the trip. He’s Carolyn’s cousin-inlaw, or some such thing.”
“Hello, Matt,” Carolyn said, smiling at him from across the room.
“Hi, Carolyn,” Matt said. “How’s Ryan?”
“Super.”
“Okay, I’ll make this fast,” Marsha said, “so we can get our match pictures. Matt, that couple on the love seat is…”
Within seconds Matt gave up even comprehending what Marsha was saying, let alone being able to remember the names of the dozen-plus people, because she was rattling them off so fast it was a blur of sound. He just smiled and nodded, then nodded some more.
“And last but not least,” Marsha said, “is our single mommy, Caitlin Cunningham. That’s it. Find a place to sit, Matt.” She hurried across the room to settle on a chair next to Bud and grab his hand.