The Cupid Project

Chapter 5: Love to Hate Me

"Love is a choice you make from moment to moment." – Barbara De Angelis

"So, you spied on two teachers' private conversation?"

"Liz, why is that your main takeaway from this story."

We sat on a bench in Liz's grandmother's garden. This has been our go-to gossip spot since we were kids. I don't know how to explain it, but there was a natural serenity to this place. When I wasn't getting attacked by mosquitoes, that is.

"I'm sorry; what do you want me to say?"

"Wow, Day. You're so smart and lucky to have landed on this absolute goldmine!"

She gave me a disapproving look.

"Listen, it doesn't matter how I got the information. What matters is I got it. Mr. Dawson is Ms. Abney's perfect match. I just know it."

"Okay, fine. I'm very proud of you," she finally said, rolling her eyes.

I smiled at the praise.

"Girls, it's getting hot out here! Are you sure you don't want to come indoors," Liz's grandmother called out from inside.

"We're good, Grandma. We'll be in, in a few!"

"Okay, be careful! The UV index is pretty high today. I just got an alert about it on my mini telephone box!"

"It's just called a phone, Grandma!" Liz responded.

I giggled and watched endearingly as Liz's grandmother rolled her eyes and shuffled back inside. The old woman was very small and frail, with big blue eyes that mimicked her granddaughters. In a lot of ways, she reminded me of my own grandmother.

Nana Lily was everything to me. We were always super close. She was, in a way, like a second mom to me. I remember the smell of her cinnamon perfume and how her jewelry clinked together whenever she entered a room. I remember her honey-warm voice as she read me bedtime stories to fall asleep when I was small. All her advice, stories, gifts, and never-ending sass. Everything about her was forever ingrained in my head.

I was a mess when she died a couple of months ago. I'm still getting used to her not being here.

I guess Liz sensed sadness in my eyes because she gave me a consoling look.

"I'm sorry. Should we have not met here? I know it's been rough ever since-"

"It's fine," I reassured her. "I like being around your grandma. She reminds me of her," I said gently, fidgeting with the antique golden ring on my finger that Nana Lily gifted to me right before she died.

"Alright," she said softly. "Back to business. What do we know about Mr. Dawson."

"Well, he's in his 40s, like Ms. Abney. He's single, and...they are so into each other. You should've heard them in the teachers' lounge."

"But how do you plan on getting them together? It's not like you have any classes with him."

This was true. I'd never been musically inclined. The last music class I took was in elementary school. I'd never liked those damn recorders.

"You know who would be helpful?"

"Liz, do not say his name."

"Mac."

"God dammit, Liz."

"I'm just saying. He is his son. If there were any way to get close to him, it would be through Mac."

The worst part about it was I knew she was right.