Perfect Match Read Online Free

them
friends
anymore, Richard.” I heard my mother’s voice coming up the stairs. “You’re so old-fashioned.” She cupped my face in her cool, manicured hands and kissed both my cheeks. “Hello, darling,” she said. “Isn’t the new PC word for one’s significant other
partner
? That’s what Whoopi calls her boyfriend on
The View
.”
    â€œWait,” I said, trying to catch up to my in-on-all-the-family-gossip parents. “Patch and Feb suddenly have partners? And they’re bringing them to dinner? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
    My mother clucked her tongue. “Have you lost your flair for the impromptu dinner party? Didn’t your father and I teach you anything? Have we been away too long?”
    â€œNo, yes, and yes,” I said. “I’m so glad you guys are back, even if it’s only for—”
    My dad looked at his watch. “Fourteen hours. Why don’t you give Alex a call? See if he wants in on this partners evening?”
    When my parents went downstairs to get ready fordinner, I slid the mocket into my underwear drawer and picked up my phone to text Alex.
    DINNER PLANS? CAN I TEMPT YOU WITH GREASY CHINESE FOOD AND MY FAMILY?
    I was trying to sound casual, since I knew it was a really last-minute invitation, but when Alex replied: WISH I COULD! COMMITTED TO GRANDMA’S TASTELESS CHICKEN TONIGHT, I couldn’t help feeling a little bit bummed. My family was together so rarely that I hated missing the opportunity to have Alex at my side. Especially if Patch and Feb were both bringing home their, uh,
partners
.
    Oh well—dinner with the fam, even as the seventh wheel, still beat microwaved pizza.
    Soon a mess of voices filtered up from the first floor and I rushed down to meet my siblings, whom I hadn’t seen in over a month. When I saw my older sister tripping over her suitcases in the foyer, a big smile spread across my face—then quickly turned into a laugh.
    Feb was decked out in head-to-toe safari gear. A tall, blond guy standing with his arm around her sported a coordinating ensemble.
    â€œSo that’s what you’ve been doing all month—hunting for ivory?” I joked, giving Feb a kiss.
    â€œNot exactly,” she said, shoving one of three massivetrunks against the wall. “Kelly and I just started a line of activewear with Karl Lagerfeld. It’s inspired by the haute Australian bush hunter. You like?” Feb spun around to model, then put her hand on Kelly’s chest. “Sweetie, meet my little sister-slash-protégé, Flan.”
    â€œNice to meet you, Flan,” the haute bush hunter boyfriend said. “And yes, before you ask, it’s supposed to be ironic.”
    I smiled at Feb. “I like him already. Where’s Patch? I thought I just heard his voice.”
    Feb rolled her eyes and flung open the door to the coat closet under the stairs. A huddle of bodies, one of which I recognized as that of my older brother, Patch, tumbled out in a lump.
    â€œRemember when we used to wrap fruit roll-ups around our fingers and lick them off?” Feb muttered to me under her breath. I nodded, not sure where she was going with the question. “I think Patch’s new girlfriend has him confused with a fruit roll-up.”
    I looked at Patch, who was bright red at having been busted making out in the coatroom. He did have a strange girl attached to his neck, but something else was different about him too. He was wearing a fitted yellow button-down and gray pin-striped slacks. I almost didn’t recognize my vintage-T-shirt-only-wearing brother underneath the fancy clothes. Only agirl he really liked could get Patch to dress up for family dinner. At least his hair was still sticking out in all directions—that part I recognized.
    Patch pulled away from the girl and gave me a friendly nod. “Hey sis. How ya been? This is Agnes.” He sounded out of