Read Online The Perfect Match by Kristan Higgins - Free Book Online

She wanted a man’s face to
light up when he saw her. She wanted a man to kiss her like his heart would stop
if he didn’t.
    Somehow, Dana had wrangled what Honor never had—Brogan’s love.
In just a few weeks, no less.
    How the hell had she done that?
    Suddenly it seemed like the sky was pressing her down with the
same paralyzing loneliness felt when her mother died, leaving her alone.
    And God, she was tired of being alone. She didn’t know if the
words were a prayer or an admission of defeat. She pulled her hair from the clip
and ran her fingers through it, sighing in the cool night air.
    You know what? She wasn’t going to Goggy’s. Instead, she went
home, went up to her bathroom and took out a pair of scissors.
    All her life, her hair had been the same, thick and long,
hanging to the middle of her back, a dark blond with lighter streaks from the
sunshine...when she was out in the sunshine, that was. It had been a while. She
wore it up about half of the time, down and with a hairband at others. In fact,
her hairband collection was a little ridiculous. How many did she own? Twenty?
Thirty? Until now, she liked her hair, liked the old-fashioned beauty of it.
    Not anymore. It was time for a change.
    The snick of the scissors was oddly satisfying.
    * * *
    O N THE FOURTH Thursday of every
month, in an effort to earn her heavenly reward, Honor volunteered at Rushing
Creek, the assisted living facility at the edge of Manningsport. This Thursday,
Goggy had come with her.
    In the past year, Goggy and Pops had aged a little, as one
would expect with people in their eighties. They were both still strong as oxen,
but Goggy seemed more forgetful these days, and Honor could swear Pops limped on
rainy days. Any day now, she worried, one of them might tumble down the steep,
narrow staircases of the Old House, which was something of a death trap, full of
the twists and turns characteristic of colonials. They didn’t use two-thirds of
the rooms, and the house would never pass inspection, not with Pops having
nailed the front door closed last winter “to help with the drafts.”
    It was Honor’s hope that they’d willingly move to a brighter,
smaller place before one of them had an accident.
    “I’ll kill myself before I come to a place like this,” Goggy
pronounced dramatically when she came through the doors. A resident in a
wheelchair glared before zipping down the hall in speedy moral outrage. Rushing
Creek was comparable to the nicest luxury apartments in Manhattan, but Goggy
viewed it like a Dickensian asylum.
    “Let’s try to use our inside voices, okay?” Honor said. “I love
it here. I’m counting the years before I can move in.”
    “I’d kill myself. Oh, hello,
Mildred! How are you?”
    “Hello, Elizabeth!” Mildred said. “And Honor! You cut your
hair! Oh, no! Why, honey, why?”
    “Thank you,” Honor said. Okay, so the haircut was a bit
radical. But that had been the point. And yes, she’d gone to Corning, to a
stylish, somewhat frightening place where a professional had stared in horror
before shaping up her cropped hair.
    Now it was no longer than the nape of her neck. Relieved of its
weight, little wisps sprang up here and there, and if it was a shock, Honor told
herself she’d like it eventually. Dad pretended to after his initial
chest-clutching; Mrs. Johnson growled; Goggy wept; Pops, Pru and Jack had yet to
notice. Faith, at least, had seemed genuinely enthusiastic, clapping her hands.
“It’s so chic, Honor! And look at your cheekbones! You’re gorgeous!” Which, of
course, she wasn’t, but she appreciated the support.
    “So...different!” Mildred said. “Anyway, dear, congratulations
on your sister getting married.”
    “Thanks. Levi’s a great guy.”
    “I bet they’ll have babies any day.”
    “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
    Mildred gave her a conspiratorial look. “And you, dear? Anyone
special for you?”
    “No, not at the moment.”
    “Such a shame. Why are you here,