“If you recall, when I first gave you the engagement ring, we planned our family. Remember? Right down to the timing of your first pregnancy.”
Mary Jo could hardly manage a nod. Those were memories she’d rarely allowed herself to take out and examine.
“We both thought it was important to wait a couple of years before we started our family. You were supposed to have our first baby this year. Hey, we’re already behind schedule! It seems to me we’d better take an extended honeymoon.”
Mary Jo laughed, the wind swallowing the sound the moment it escaped her lips.
“Two, three months at the very least,” Evan continued, undaunted. “I suggest a South Pacific island, off the tourist track. We’ll rent a bungalow on the beach and spend our days walking along the shore and our nights making love.”
He was going much too fast for her. “Do you mind retracing a few steps?” she asked. “I got lost somewhere between you sitting by a roaring fire with your faithful dog and us running into Gauguin’s descendants on some South Pacific beach.”
“First things first,” Evan countered. “We agreed on four children, didn’t we?”
“Evan!” She couldn’t keep from laughing, her happiness spilling over.
“These details are important, and I want them settled before we get involved in another subject. I wanted six kids, remember. I love big families. But you only wanted two. If you’ll think back, it took some fast talking to get you to agree to a compromise of four. You did agree, remember?”
“What I remember was being railroaded into a crazy conversation while you went on about building us this mansion.”
“Ah, yes, the house. I’d nearly forgotten. I wanted one large enough for all the kids. With a couple of guest rooms. That, my beautiful Mary Jo, isn’t a mansion.”
“It is when you’re talking seven bedrooms and six thousand square feet.”
“But,” Evan said, his eyes twinkling, “you were going to have live-in help with the children, especially while they’re younger, and I wanted to be sure we had a place to escape and relax at the end of the day.”
“I found an indoor swimming pool, hot tub and exercise room a bit extravagant.” Mary Jo had thought he was teasing when he’d showed her the house plans he’d had drawn up, but it had soon become apparent that he was completely serious. He was serious now, too.
“I still want to build that home for us,” he said, his intense dark eyes searching hers. “I love you. I’ve loved you for three agonizing years. I want us to be married, and soon. If it were up to me, we’d already have the marriage license.”
“You’re crazy.” But it was a wonderful kind of crazy.
“You love me.”
Tears glistened in her eyes as she nodded. “I do. I love you so much, Evan.” She slid her arms around his neck. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Marry me and put me out of my misery.”
He made it sound so easy and she was caught up in the tide of his enthusiasm, but she couldn’t agree. Not yet. Not until she was convinced she was doing the right thing for both of them.
“Listen,” Evan said as though struck by a whole new thought. “I have a judge in the family who can marry us as soon as I make the necessary arrangements. We can have a private ceremony in, say, three days’ time.”
“My parents would shoot us both, Evan. I know for a fact that my father would never forgive us if we cheated him out of the pleasure of escorting me down the aisle.”
Evan grimaced. “You’re right. My mother’s the same. She actually enjoys planning social events. It’s much worse now that my dad’s a senator. She’s organized to a fault—takes care of even the most minute details.” He grinned suddenly, as if he found something amusing. “My father made a wise choice when he married Mom. She’s the perfect politician’s wife.”
The words cut through Mary Jo like an icy wind. They reminded her that she would be a liability to Evan should he ever decide to run for political office.
Often the candidates’ spouses were put under as much scrutiny as the candidates themselves. The demands placed on political wives were often no less demanding than those placed on the politicians.
“Evan,” she said, watching him closely. “I’m not anything like your mother.”
“So? What’s that got to do with our building a mansion and filling all those bedrooms with children?”
“I won’t make a good politician’s wife.”
He looked at her as if he didn’t understand what she was saying.
Mary Jo had no option but to elaborate. “I’ve heard, from various people, that you intend to enter politics someday yourself.”
“Someday. I’m in no rush. My family, my mother especially, seems to think I have a future in that area, but it isn’t anything that’s going to happen soon. When and if the time comes, the two of us will decide it together. But for now it’s a moot point.”
Mary Jo wasn’t willing to accept that. “Evan, I’m telling you here and now that I’d hate that kind of life. I’m not suited for it. Your mother enjoys arranging spectacular society events and giving interviews and living her life a certain way, but I don’t. I’m the kind of person who’s uncomfortable in a roomful of strangers—unless they’re five-year-olds.”
“All right,” Evan said with an amused air. “Then I won’t enter politics. My mother has enough to keep her busy running my father’s career. You’re far more important to me than some elected position. Besides, I have the feeling Mother would have driven me crazy.”
His words should have reassured her, but didn’t. It seemed ludicrous to pin their future together on something as fleeting as this promise, so lightly made. Her greatest fear was that Evan would change his mind and regret ever marrying her.
“Let’s go talk to your parents,” Evan said, apparently unaware of the turmoil inside her.
“About what?”
His head went back and he frowned at her. “Making the arrangements for the wedding, what else? My mother will put up a fight, but I believe a small, private ceremony with just our immediate families would be best.”
“Oh, Evan, please, don’t rush me,” Mary Jo pleaded. “This is the most important decision of our lives. We both need to think this through very carefully.”
He gaze narrowed. “What’s there to think about? I love you, and you love me. That’s all that matters.”
How Mary Jo wished that were true.
IT DEMANDED far more courage to drive over to Whispering Willows than Mary Jo anticipated. She’d spent most of the night alternating between absolute delight and abject despair. She awoke Sunday morning convinced she’d never find the answers she needed until she’d talked to Evan’s mother.
That was how Mary Jo came to be standing outside the Drydens’ front door shortly before noon. With a shaking hand, she rang the bell.
She’d expected one of the household staff to answer. Instead, Lois Dryden herself appeared at the door. The two women stared at each other.
Mary Jo recovered enough to speak first. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Dryden, but I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time.”
“Of course.” The older woman stepped aside to let Mary Jo enter the lavish house. The foyer floor was of polished marble, and a glittering crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, which was two and a half stories high.
“Perhaps it would be best if we talked in my husband’s office,” Lois Dryden said, ushering Mary Jo’s to the darkly paneled room down the hall. This was the room Evan had described in his absurd scenario of lonely bachelor sitting by the fire with his dog.
“Would you like some something cold to drink? Or perhaps coffee?”
“No, thank you,” Mary Jo answered. She chose the dark green leather wing chair angled in front of the fireplace. Mrs. Dryden sat in its twin.
“I realize you were surprised to see me with Evan yesterday.”
“Yes,” Lois agreed, her hands primly folded in her lap, �
��but who my son chooses to date is really none of my concern.”
“That’s very diplomatic of you. But I suspect you’d rather Evan dated someone other than me.”
“Mary Jo, please. I feel we got started on the wrong foot all those years ago. It was entirely my fault, and I’ve wished many times since that I’d been more thoughtful. I have the feeling I deeply offended you and, my dear girl, that wasn’t my intention.”
“I’m willing to put the past behind us,” Mary Jo suggested, managing a small smile. “That was three years ago, and I was more than a little overwhelmed by your family’s wealth and position. If there’s anyone at fault, it was me.”
“That’s very gracious of you, my dear.” Mrs. Dryden relaxed in her chair and demurely crossed her ankles.
“I love Evan,” Mary Jo said, thinking it would be best to be as forthright as possible. “And I believe he loves me.”
“I’m pleased for you both.” No telltale emotion sounded in her voice. They could have been discussing the weather for all the feeling her words revealed.
“Evan has asked me to marry him,” she announced, carefully watching the woman who sat across from her for any signs of disapproval.
“I’m very pleased.” A small and all-too-brief smile accompanied her statement. “Have you set the date? I hope you two realize we’ll need at least a year to plan the wedding. This type of event takes time and careful preparation.”
“Evan and I have decided on a small, private ceremony.”
“No,” Lois returned adamantly. “That won’t be possible.”
“Why not?” Mary Jo asked, taken aback by the vehemence in the older woman’s voice.
“My husband is a senator. The son of a man in my husband’s position does not sneak away and get married in…in secret.”
Mary Jo hadn’t said anything about sneaking away or secrecy, but she wasn’t there to argue. “I come from a large family, Mrs. Dryden. We—”
“There were ten of you or some such, as I recall.” Her hands made a dismissive motion.
Mary Jo bristled. The woman made her parents sound as if they’d produced a warren of rabbits, instead of a large, happy family.
“My point,” Mary Jo said, controlling her irritation with some difficulty, “is that neither my parents nor I could afford a big, expensive wedding.”
“Of course,” Lois said, sounding relieved. “We wouldn’t expect your relatives to assume the cost of such an elaborate affair. Walter and I would be more than happy to foot the bill.”
“I appreciate the offer, and I’m sure my parents would, too, but I’m afraid we could never accept your generosity. Tradition says that the bride’s family assumes the cost of the wedding, and my father is a very traditional man.”
“I see.” Mrs. Dryden gnawed her lower lip.
“There must be some way around his pride. Men can be such sticklers over things like this.” For the first time she sounded almost friendly. “I’ll think of something. Just leave it to me.”
“There’s something you don’t understand. An ostentatious wedding isn’t what I want, either.”
“But you must. I’ve already explained why it’s necessary. We wouldn’t want to create even a breath of scandal with some hushed-up affair. Why, that could do untold damage to my husband and to Evan’s political future.”
“Breath of scandal?”
“My dear girl, I don’t mean to be rude, and please forgive me if I sound like an old busybody, but there are people who’d delight in finding the least little thing to use against Walter.”
“But I’m marrying Evan, not Walter.”
“I realize that. But you don’t seem to understand that these matters have to be handled…delicately. We must start planning immediately. The moment the announcement is made, you and your family will be the focus of media attention.”
Mary Jo’s head started to spin. “I’m sure you’re mistaken. Why should anyone care about me or my family?”
Lois had begun wringing her hands. “I don’t suppose it does any harm to mention it, although I must ask you not to spread this information around. Walter has been contacted by a longtime friend who intends to enter the presidential campaign this coming year. This friend has tentatively requested Walter to be his running mate, should he garner the party’s nomination.”
Mary Jo developed an instant throbbing headache.
“My husband and I must avoid any situation that might put him in an unflattering light.”
“We could delay the wedding.” She’d been joking, but Evan’s mother looked greatly relieved.
“Would you?” she asked hopefully.
“I’ll talk to Evan.”
At the mention of her youngest son, Lois Dryden frowned. “Shouldn’t he be here with you? It seems a bit odd that you’d tell me about your engagement without him.”
“I wanted the two of us to chat first,” Mary Jo explained.
“An excellent idea,” Lois said with a distinct nod of her head. “Men can be so difficult. If you and I can agree on certain…concerns before we talk to Evan and my husband, I feel sure we can work everything out to our mutual satisfaction.”
“Mrs. Dryden, I’m a kindergarten teacher. I think you should know I feel uncomfortable with the idea of becoming a media figure.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help you, Mary Jo. I realize it’s a lot to have thrust on you all at once, but if you’re going to marry my son, you have to learn how to handle the press. I’ll teach you how to use them to your advantage and how to turn something negative into a positive.”
Mary Jo’s headache increased a hundredfold. “I don’t think I’ve been clear enough, Mrs. Dryden. I’m more than uncomfortable with this—I refuse to become involved in it.”
“Refuse?” She repeated the word as if unsure of the meaning.
“I’ve already explained my feelings to Evan,” Mary Jo continued. “I love your son so much…” Her voice shook and she stopped speaking for a moment. “I’m not like you or your husband, or Evan for, that matter. Nor do I intend to be. When Evan asked me to marry him, I told him all this.”
A frown creased Lois Dryden’s brow. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Perhaps I’m not explaining it right. Basically, I refuse to live my life seeking the approval of others. I want a small, private wedding and Evan has agreed.”
“But what about the future, when Evan decides to enter politics? Trust me, Mary Jo, the wife’s position is as demanding as that of her husband.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But I’d hate the kind of life you’re describing. Evan knows that and understands. He’s also agreed that as long as I feel this way, he won’t enter politics.”
His mother vaulted out of her chair. “But you can’t do this! Politics is Evan’s destiny. Why, from the time he was in grade school his teachers have told me what a natural leader he is. He was student-body president in high school and in college. From his early twenties on, he’s been groomed for this very thing. I can well visualize my son in the White House someday.”
His mother had lofty plans indeed. “Is this what Evan wants?”
“Of course it is,” she said vehemently. “Ask him yourself. His father and brother have had countless conversations with him about this. If my son were to marry a woman who didn’t appreciate his abilities or understand his ambitions, it might ruin him.”
If the words had come from anyone other than Lois Dryden, Mary Jo would have thought them absurd and melodramatic. But this woman believed implicitly what she said.
“Evan’s marrying the right kind of woman is crucial to your plans for his future, isn’t it?” Mary Jo asked with infinite sadness.
Mrs. Dryden looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Yes.”
“I’m not that woman.”
The older woman sighed. “I realize that. The question is, what do you intend to do about it?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I LOVE EVAN,” Mary Jo insisted again, but even a
s she spoke, she realized that loving him wasn’t enough. Although she’d matured and wasn’t the skittish, frightened woman she’d been three years earlier, nothing had really changed. If she married Evan, she might ruin his promising career. It was a heavy burden to carry.
Mary Jo couldn’t change who and what she was; nor should she expect Evan to make all the concessions, giving up his future.
“I’m sure you do love my son,” Lois said sincerely.
“And he loves me,” Mary Jo added, keeping her back straight and her head high. She angled her chin at a proud, if somewhat defiant, tilt, unwilling to accept defeat. “We’ll work this out somehow,” she said confidently. “There isn’t anything two people who love each other can’t resolve. We’ll find a way.”
“I’m sure you will, my dear.” Lois Dryden’s mouth formed a sad smile that contradicted her reassurances. “In any case, you’re perfectly right. You should discuss this all with Evan and reach a decision together.”
The older woman smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her dove-gray skirt. “Despite what you may think, Mary Jo, I have no personal objections to your marrying my son. When the two of you separated some time ago, I wondered if it had something to do with our little talk. I don’t mind telling you I suffered more than a few regrets. I never intended to hurt you, and if I did, I beg your forgiveness.”
“You certainly opened my eyes,” Mary Jo admitted. Evan’s mother had refined that talent over the past few years, she noted silently.
“I might sound like a interfering old woman, but I do hope you’ll take our little talk to heart. I trust you’ll seriously consider what we’ve discussed.” She sighed. “I love Evan, too. God has blessed me with a very special family, and all I want is what’s best for my children. I’m sure your parents feel the same way about you.”
“They do.” The conversation was becoming more and more unbearable. Mary Jo wanted desperately to leave. And she needed to talk to Evan, to share her concerns and address their future. But deep down she’d caught a fearful glimpse of the truth.
Mary Jo stood up abruptly and offered Mrs. Dryden her hand. “Thank you for your honesty and your insights. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I suppose it’s what I needed to know. I’m sure this was just as difficult for you. We have something in common, Mrs. Dryden. We both love your son. Evan wouldn’t be the man he is without your love and care. You have a right to be proud.”
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