Ready for Marriage

by Debbie Macomber

  She closed her eyes in an effort to blot out his willingness to sacrifice himself. “It just isn’t going to work, Evan. In the beginning you wouldn’t mind, but later it would destroy us. It would hurt your family, too. This isn’t only your dream, it’s theirs.”

  “Leave my family to me.”

  “No. You’re a part of them and they’re a part of you. Politics has been your dream from the time you were a boy. You told me yourself that you believe you can make a difference to the city’s future.”

  By now, the tears were running down her face. Impatiently she brushed them aside and forced herself to continue. “How many times are you going to make me say it? I’m not the right woman for you.”

  “You are the right woman,” he returned forcefully. His hands gripped her shoulders and he pulled her toward him, his eyes fierce and demanding. “I’m not listening to any more of this. We’ve loved each other too long. We’re meant to be together.”

  Mary Jo closed her eyes again and hung her head. “There’s someone else out there—from the right family, with the right background. A woman who’ll share your ambition and your dreams, who’ll work with you and not against you. A woman who’ll…love you, too.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying this.” His grip tightened on her shoulder until it was almost painful, but she knew he didn’t even realize it. “It’s you I love. It’s you I want to marry.”

  Mary Jo sadly shook her head.

  “If you honestly believe there’s another woman for me, why didn’t I fall in love with someone else? I had three whole years to find this phantom woman you mention. Why didn’t I?”

  “Because your eyes were closed. Because you were too wrapped up in your own pain to look. For whatever reasons…I don’t know…”

  “Is this what you want? To walk out of my life a second time as if we meant nothing to each other?” He was beginning to attract attention from passersby, and he lowered his voice.

  “No,” she admitted. “This is killing me. I’d give anything to be the kind of woman you need, but I can only be me. If I ask you to accept who I am, then…I can’t ask you to be something you’re not.”

  “Don’t do this,” he said between clenched teeth.

  “We’ll find a way.”

  How she wanted to believe that. How she wished it could be possible.

  Evan drew a deep breath and released her shoulder. “Let’s not make any drastic decisions now. We’re both emotionally spent. Nothing has to be determined right this minute.” He paused and gulped another deep breath. “Let’s sleep on it and we can talk in the morning. All right?”

  Mary Jo nodded. She couldn’t have endured much more of this.

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING Evan phoned the office shortly after she’d arrived and told her he’d be in late. His voice was cool, without a hint of emotion, as he asked her to reschedule his first two appointments.>

  Mary Jo thought she might as well have been speaking to a stranger. She longed to ask him how he was or if he’d had any further thoughts, but it was clear he wanted to avoid speaking to her about anything personal.

  With a heavy heart, she began her morning duties. Around nine-thirty, the office door opened and Damian walked in. He paused as if he wasn’t sure he’d come to the right room.

  “Evan won’t be in until eleven this morning,” she explained.

  “Yes, I know.” For a man she’d assumed was utterly confident, Damian appeared doubtful and rather hesitant. “It wasn’t Evan I came to see. It was you.”

  “Me?” She looked up at Damian, finding his gaze warm and sympathetic. “Why?”

  “Evan stopped by the house yesterday afternoon to talk to both Jessica and me. He was confused and…”

  “Hurt,” Mary Jo supplied for him. She knew exactly what Evan was feeling because she’d felt the same way.

  “I don’t know that my talking to you will solve anything, but I thought I should give it a try. I’m not sure my brother would appreciate my butting into his personal business, but he did it once for me. I figure I owe him one.” Damian’s smile was fleeting. “I don’t know if this is what you want to hear, but Evan sincerely loves you.”

  A lump developed in her throat and she nodded. “I realize that.” She sincerely loved him, too.

  “From what Evan said to us, I gather he’s decided against running for city council. He also told us why he felt he had to back out. Naturally, I support any decision he chooses to make.”

  “But…” There had to be a “but” in all this.

  “But it would be a shame if he declined.”

  “I’m not going to let that happen,” Mary Jo said calmly. “You see, I love Evan and I want what’s best for him, and to put it simply, that isn’t me.”

  “He doesn’t believe that, Mary Jo, and neither do I.”

  She could see no reason to discuss the issue. “Where’s he now?” she asked softly.

  “He went to talk to our parents.”

  Their parents. If anyone could get him to face the truth, it was Lois Dryden. Mary Jo had approached the woman, strong and certain of her love, and walked away convinced she’d been living in a dreamworld. Lois Dryden was capable of opening Evan’s eyes as no one else could.

  “We both need time to think this through,” Mary Jo murmured. “I appreciate your coming to me, Damian, more than I can say. I know you did it out of love, but what happens between Evan and me, well, that’s our concern.”

  “You didn’t ask for my advice, but I’m going to give it to you, anyway,” Damian said. “Don’t be so quick to give up.”

  “I won’t,” she promised.

  Mary Jo was sitting at her desk sorting mail when Evan arrived shortly after eleven. She stood up to greet him, but he glanced past her and said tonelessly,

  “I can’t fight both of you.” Then he walked into his office and closed the door.

  His action said more than his words. In her heart, Mary Jo had dared to hope that if Evan confronted his parents and came away with his convictions intact, there might be a chance for them.

  But obviously that hadn’t happened. One look plainly revealed his resignation and regret. He’d accepted from his parents what he wouldn’t from her. The truth.

  Sitting back down, Mary Jo typed out her letter of resignation and signed it. Next she phoned a temporary employment agency and made the arrangements for her replacement to arrive that afternoon.

  When she’d finished, she tapped lightly on his closed door and let herself into his office.

  “Yes?” Evan said.

  She found him standing in front of the window, hands clasped behind his back. After a moment, he turned to face her.

  With tears blocking her throat, she laid the single sheet on his desk and crossed to stand beside him.

  His gaze went from the letter to her and back. “What’s that?”

  “My letter of resignation. My replacement will be here within the hour. I’ll finish out the day—show her around and explain her duties.”

  She half expected him to offer a token argument, but he said nothing. She pressed her hand against the side of his face and smiled up at him. His features blurred as the tears filled her eyes.

  “Goodbye, Evan,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A WEEK PASSED and the days bled into one another until Mary Jo couldn’t distinguish morning from afternoon. A thousand regrets hounded her at all times of the day and night.

  Blessed with a loving family, Mary Jo accepted their comfort, needed it. There was for all of them, some consolation in the news that came from Evan. Through his new secretary, he’d been in touch with her father regarding Adison Investments.

  Mary Jo heard from him, too. Once. In a brief letter explaining that Adison would be forthcoming with the return of the original investment money, plus interest. Since he’d calculated his fee for an extended lawsuit, she owed him nothing.

  Mary Jo read the letter several times, looking for a message. Anything. B
ut there were only three short sentences, their tone crisp and businesslike, with no hidden meaning that she could decipher. Tears blurred her eyes as she lovingly ran her finger over his signature. She missed him terribly, felt empty and lost and this was as close as she would ever be to him again—her finger caressing his signature at the end of a letter.

  Another week passed. Mary Jo was no less miserable than she’d been the first day after she’d stopped working for Evan. She knew it would take time and effort to accept the infeasibility of her love for him, but she wasn’t ready. Not yet. So she stayed holed up in her apartment, listless and heartbroken.

  The fact that the summer days were glorious—all sunshine and blue sky—didn’t help. The least Mother Nature could have done was cooperate and match her mood with dark gray clouds and gloomy days.

  She dragged herself out of bed late that morning and didn’t bother to eat until early afternoon. Now she sat in front of the television dressed in her nightie and munching dry cornflakes. She hadn’t been to the grocery store in weeks and had long since run out of milk. And just about everything else.

  The doorbell chimed, and Mary Jo shot an accusing glance in the direction of her front door. It was probably her mother or one of her sisters-in-law, who seemed to think it was up to them to boost her spirits. So they invented a number of ridiculous excuses to pop in unexpectedly.

  The love and support of her family was important, but all Mary Jo wanted at the moment was to be left alone. To eat her cornflakes in peace.

  She set the bowl aside, walked over to the door and squinted through the peephole. She caught a glimpse of a designer purse, but unfortunately whoever was holding it stood just outside her view.

  “Who is it?” she called out.

  “Jessica.”

  Mary Jo pressed her forehead against the door and groaned. She was an emotional and physical wreck. The last person she wanted to see was anyone related to Evan.

  “Mary Jo, please open the door,” Jessica called.

  “We need to talk. It’s about Evan.”

  Nothing could have been more effective. Mary Jo didn’t want company. She didn’t want to talk. But the minute Jessica said Evan’s name, she turned the lock and opened the door. Standing in the doorway, she closed her eyes against the painfully bright sun.

  “How are you?” Jessica asked, walking right in.

  “About as bad as I look,” Mary Jo mumbled, shutting the door behind her. “What about Evan?”

  “Same as you.” She strode into the room, removed a stack of papers from the rocking chair and planted herself on it as if she intended to stay for a while.

  “Where’s Andy?” Mary Jo asked, still holding the doorknob.

  Jessica crossed her legs, rocking gently as if she had all the time in the world. “My mother has him—for the day.”

  Mary Jo noted the emphasis. Jessica intended to stay here until she got what she wanted.

  “I told Mom I had a doctor’s appointment, and I do—later,” Jessica continued. “I think I’m pregnant again.” A radiant happiness shone from her eyes.

  “Congratulations.” Although Mary Jo was miserable, she was pleased for her friend, who was clearly delighted.

  “I know it’s none of my business,” Jessica said sympathetically, “but tell me what happened between you and Evan.”

  “I’m sure he’s already explained.” Mary Jo wasn’t up to hauling up all the painful details. Besides, it would solve nothing.

  Jessica laughed shortly. “Evan talk? You’ve got to be joking. He wouldn’t say so much as a word. Both Damian and I’ve tried to get him to discuss what happened, but it hasn’t done a bit of good.”

  “So you’ve come to me.”

  “Exactly.” Jessica was obviously determined to stay until she learned what she wanted to know.

  “Please don’t do this, Jessica,” Mary Jo said, fighting back the tears. “It’s just too painful.”

  “But you both love each other so much.”

  “That’s why our breakup’s necessary. It isn’t easy on either of us, but this is the way it has to be.”

  Jessica tossed her hands in the air. “You’re a pair of fools. There’s no talking to Evan, and you’re not much better. What’s it going to take to get you two back together?”

  “A miracle,” Mary Jo answered.

  Jessica took several moments to digest this. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No,” Mary Jo said sadly. There wasn’t anything anyone could do. But one thing was certain: she couldn’t continue like this. Sliding from one day to the next without a thought to the future. Buried in the pain of the past, barely able to live in the present.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m thinking of leaving Boston,” she said suddenly. The impulse had come unexpectedly, and in a heartbeat Mary Jo knew it was the right thing to do. She couldn’t live in this town, this state, without constantly being bombarded with information about the Dryden family. Not a week passed that his father wasn’t in the news for one reason or another, or so it seemed. It wouldn’t get any better once Evan was elected to city council.

  Escape seemed her only answer.

  “Where would you go?” Jessica pressed.

  Anywhere that wasn’t here. “The Northwest,” she said again, blurting out the first destination that came to mind. “Washington, maybe Oregon. I’ve heard that part of the country’s beautiful.” Teachers were needed everywhere and she shouldn’t have much trouble obtaining a position.

  “So far away?” Jessica seemed to breathe the question.

  The farther the better. Her family would argue with her, but for the first time in two weeks, Mary Jo had found a reason to look ahead.

  Her parents would tell her she was running away, and Mary Jo would agree, but sometimes running was necessary. She remembered her father’s talks with her older brothers; he’d explained that there might come a day when they’d find themselves in a no-win situation. The best thing to do, he’d told them, was to walk away. Surely this was one of those times.

  “Thank you for coming,” Mary Jo said, looking solemnly at her friend. “I appreciate it. Please let me know when the baby’s born.”

  “I will,” Jessica said, her eyes sad.

  “I’ll have my mother send me the results of the election next year. My heart will be with Evan.”

  It would always be with him.

  Jessica left soon afterward, flustered and discouraged. They hugged and, amid promises to keep in touch, reluctantly parted. Mary Jo counted Evan’s sister-in-law as a good friend.

  Mary Jo was suddenly filled with purpose. She dressed, made a number of phone calls, opened the door and let the sunshine pour in. By late afternoon, she’d accomplished more than she had in the entire previous two weeks. Telling her parents her decision wouldn’t be easy, but her mind was made up. It was now Tuesday. First thing next Monday morning, she was packing what she could in her car and heading west. As soon as she’d settled somewhere she’d send for her furniture.

  Before Mary Jo could announce her decision, her father phoned her with the wonderful news that he’d received a cashier’s check returning his investment. Not only that, Evan had put him in contact with a reputable financial adviser.

  “That’s great,” Mary Jo said, blinking back tears. Hearing the relief in her father’s voice was all the reward she would ever need. Although it had ultimately broken her heart, asking Evan to help her parents had been the right thing to do. Her father had gotten far more than his investment back. In the process he’d restored his pride and his faith in justice.

  “I need to talk to you and Mom,” Mary Jo announced, steeling herself for the inevitable confrontation. “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

  The meeting didn’t go well. Mary Jo hadn’t expected that it would. Her parents had a list of objections that lasted nearly an hour. Mary Jo’s resolve didn’t waver. She was leaving Boston; she would find a new life for herself.

  To her s
urprise, her brothers sided with her. Jack insisted she was old enough to make her own decisions. His words did more to convince her parents than hours of her own arguments.

  The Friday before she was leaving, Mary Jo spent the day with her mother. Marianna was pickling cucumbers in the kitchen, dabbing her eyes now and again when she didn’t think Mary Jo was looking.

  “I’m going to miss you,” Marianna said, putting on a brave front.

  Mary Jo’s heart clenched. “I’ll miss you, too. But, Mom, you make it sound like you’ll never hear from me again. I promise to phone at least once a week.”

  “Call when the rates are cheaper, understand?”

  Mary Jo suppressed a smile. “Of course.”

  “I talked to Evan,” her mother mentioned casually as she was inserting large cloves of garlic into the sterilized canning jars.

  Mary Jo froze, and her breath jammed in her chest.

  “I told him you’d decided to leave Boston, and you know what he said?”

  “No.” The word rose from her throat on a bubble of hysteria.

  “Evan said you’d know what was best.” She paused as if carefully judging her words. “He didn’t sound like himself. I’m worried about that boy, but I’m more concerned about you.”

  “Mom, I’m going to be fine.”

  “I know that. You’re a Summerhill and we’re strong people.”

  Mary Jo followed her mother, dropping a sprig of dill weed into each of the sparkling clean jars.

  “You never told me what went wrong between you and Evan, not that you had to. I’ve got eyes and ears, and it didn’t take much for me to figure out his family had something to do with all this.”

  Her mother’s insight didn’t come as any surprise, but Mary Jo neither confirmed nor denied it.

  “The mail’s here,” Norman Summerhill said, strolling into the kitchen. “I had one of those fancy travel agencies send us a couple of brochures on the South Pacific. When you’re finished packing those jars, let’s sit down and read over what they’ve got to say.”