Grounds for Love - Matchmaker Kate
Part 1 Part 2
Kate discovered maternity leave would be more challenging than she’d anticipated. Not because of the sleepless nights. Or the two little boys she already had at home. Or the recovery. The real problem was that Sharma House continued to operate without her. Her phone buzzed for what had to be the eighth time in as many minutes. Anthony, propped against the hospital pillows with their daughter asleep on his chest, glanced over. “Who is texting you?” Kate didn’t look up. “Sophie.” “Should I be concerned?” “She’s giving me live updates.” Anthony frowned. “Live updates?” “The community book night event.” He laughed. “The one you definitely didn’t organize as an elaborate ruse to get Phillip and Eloise in the same room?” “It is a community event, Anthony.” “Conveniently attended by the two people you’ve been secretly shipping the last several months?” Kate sighed dramatically. “I’m missing it because I gave birth yesterday.” “That is typically how maternity leave works.” “Don’t remind me.” Her phone buzzed again. “And it’s Philoise.” Anthony blinked. “Philo—what?” Kate finally looked up just in time to see Charlotte give the world's tiniest yawn. She shifted carefully, wincing only once before reaching over to rub tiny circles against the baby’s back. “Phillip and Eloise.” Anthony looked between his wife, the sleeping newborn on his chest, and the phone she was already checking again. “You named them?” “Anthony.” “I’m just asking.” “Try to keep up.”
📱| Sophie: Phillip’s here. 📱| Sophie: He’s sitting at their table.
Anthony frowned. “Their table? It’s their table now?” Kate patted his leg sympathetically, “We don’t make the rules.”
📱| Sophie: ELOISE JUST WALKED IN.
Kate sat up a little straighter, flinching just slightly at the discomfort of the movement. “Let me help you,” Anthony said, automatically adjusting Charlotte with one hand and the practiced ease of someone who had done this twice before as he pulled Kate’s pillow further behind her with the other. “I’m fine,” she replied. “You’re alarmingly invested.” Kate ignored him.
📱| Sophie: SHE SAW HIM. 📱| Sophie: SHE’S WALKING OVER.
“What happens if she tells him to move?” “I don’t know,” Kate mumbled as she watched three dots appear and disappear.
📱| Sophie: SHE TOLD HIM IT WAS HER TABLE. 📱| Sophie: HE TOLD HER IT WAS ACTUALLY THE CAFE’S TABLE.
Anthony glanced at the string of messages. “Is her caps lock stuck?” Anthony asked. “She’s excited. Let her have this.” 📱| Sophie: He asked if she had her name on it somewhere and she pointed to a spot on the underside where she scribbled her name with a permanent marker. Kate gasped. “What?” Anthony asked. “What is it?” “Your sister vandalized cafe property, but it’s worth it if this meet cute actually works.” Anthony looked down at Charlotte sleeping peacefully on his chest before looking back at his wife. “I hate how invested I suddenly am.” “Told you,” Kate grinned.
📱| Sophie: HE ASKED ABOUT THE BOOKS! 📱| Sophie: HE ASKED IF SHE WAS THE ONE WHO HAD BEEN WRITING TO HIM!!!!! 📱| Sophie: AND SHE SAID SHE WASN’T APOLOGIZING FOR ANY OF HER COMMENTS. 📱| Sophie: I’M GOING TO PASS OUT. 📱| Sophie: THEY ARE SITTING AND TALKING!!!!!
Then…there was nothing. Kate waited, and a minute passed. Anthony frowned. “Did she actually pass out?” Kate laughed quietly. “No.” “How do you know?” “A hunch,” she replied as she put the phone down and snuggled into Anthony's side. “So…” “So.” “It worked?” Kate rested a hand on Charlotte’s impossibly soft hair. “I think it did.”
*****
Four weeks later, Kate was officially back. Or, as Anthony liked to remind everyone, partially back. Charlotte spent most mornings asleep in the wrap against Kate’s chest, blissfully unaware that she’d already become something of a celebrity among Sharma House regulars, and Tuesday became their favorite day. Eloise and Phillip would arrive at the same time, order their usual and sit at their table—the back corner booth—for hours, talking about everything. Kate hummed happily as she wiped down the counter. “You don’t need to do that,” Anthony said as he came up behind her and gently took the rag from her hand before she could protest. “I’m wiping a counter.” “You’re on maternity leave.” “And the deal was you could come in, calmly sit in your chair and supervise.” Kate crossed her arms under Charlotte’s little body. “You’re being ridiculous.” “I’m being preventative.” “Of what?” “I know you well enough,” he said, guiding her gently backwards until her knees hit the edge of a chair. “I know that wiping a counter quickly escalates into reorganizing the supply closet.” Kate looked offended. “I would never.” “You have. Several times.” Kate sighed. “Not today.” Satisfied, he kissed her temple. “Go sit.” “Anthony—” A loud laugh rang out from the back corner of the cafe, and the pair looked up just in time to see Eloise throw her head back cackling while Phillip doubled over his coffee, his shoulders shaking. “They seem happy,” Anthony admitted. “They are happy.” He sighed. “You were right, you know?” “Oh I know,” Kate smiled smugly. “But rest assured, this is the last pregnancy induced matchmaking adventure.” Anthony chuckled and bent to kiss Charlotte’s head. “Since apparently stepping into the supply closet is an occupational hazard, can you go get more vanilla?” Kate asked as she sat. “We’re running low.” “I’ll be right back,” Anthony agreed. Anthony arrived back just a few minutes later. “Vanillia,” he said, placing the bottle behind the counter. “And you left this back there.” Kate frowned as she took the book from his hands. “That’s not—” But she stopped. The familiar cover. The slightly bent corner. The folded slips of paper peeking from between the pages. “Oh.” Whatever conversation had started in the margins had clearly continued somewhere else. “Well?” She closed the book gently. “We need a lock for the supply closet.” “Why?” “Trust me.” Anthony looked from the book to the back corner booth. “...No…” But Kate just nodded. “Bloody Benedict.”
