Ready for Marriage

by Debbie Macomber

Mary Jo started to speak, but Mrs. Dryden shook her head, obviously determined to finish her confession. “I decided that very night that it was important for us to talk. I’d never intended to hurt you or Evan, and when I learned you were no longer seeing each other, I realized it might have had something to do with what I’d said to you.”

  “Mrs. Dryden, please, this isn’t necessary.”

  “On the contrary. It’s very necessary. If you’re to be my daughter-in-law, and I sincerely hope you will be, then I feel it’s vital for us to…to begin afresh.”

  Mary Jo’s pulse began to hammer with excitement. “You meant what you said earlier, then? About wanting me to marry Evan?”

  “Every word. Once we know each other a little better, you’ll learn I rarely say what I don’t mean. Now, please, allow me to continue.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  Mrs. Dryden gave her an ironic smile. “Once we’re on more familiar terms, you won’t need to be so apprehensive of me. I’m hoping we can be friends, Mary Jo. After all I pray you’ll be the mother of my grandchildren.” She smiled again. “Half of them, anyway.”

  Mary Jo blinked back her tears, deeply moved by the other woman’s unmistakable contrition and by her generosity.

  “Now…where was I?” Oh, yes, we were talking about three years ago. You and Evan had decided not to see each other again, and frankly—forgive me for this, Mary Jo—I was relieved. But Evan seemed to take the breakup very badly. I realized then that I might have acted too hastily. For months, I contemplated calling you myself. I’m ashamed to tell you I kept putting it off. No,” she said and her voice shook, “I was a coward. I dreaded facing you.”

  “Mrs. Dryden, it was a long time ago.”

  “You’re right, it was, but that doesn’t lessen my guilt.” She paused. “Evan changed that autumn. He’d always been such a lighthearted young man. He continued to joke and tease, but it wasn’t the same. The happiness had gone out of his eyes. Nothing held his interest for long. He drifted from one brief relationship to another. He was miserable, and it showed.”

  In those bleak, lonely months, Mary Jo hadn’t fared much better, but she said nothing about that now.

  “It was during this time that Walter decided to run for the Senate, and our lives were turned upside down. Our one concern was Evan. The election was important to Walter, and in some ways, Evan was a problem. Walter discussed the situation with Evan…Oh, dear. None of this applies to the present situation. I’m getting sidetracked.”

  “No. Go on,” Mary Jo pleaded.

  “I have to admit I’m not proud of what we did. Walter and I felt strongly that Jessica Kellerman was the right woman for Evan, and we did what we could to encourage a relationship. As you know, Damian and Jessica fell in love. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson about interfering in my sons’ lives, but apparently not.”

  Mary Jo wished she could say something to reassure Lois.

  “Early this summer, Walter and I noticed a…new happiness in Evan. He seemed more like the way he used to be. Later we learned that you were working for him. I decided then and there that if you two decided to rekindle your romance, I’d do nothing to stand in your way.”

  “You didn’t,” Mary Jo said quickly.

  “Then you came to me and insisted on a small, private wedding. It was obvious you didn’t understand the social demands made upon a husband in politics. I could see you were getting discouraged, and I did nothing to change that. At the time it seemed for the best.”

  “Mrs. Dryden, you’re taking on far more blame than you should.”

  “That’s not all, Mary Jo.” She clenched her purse with both gloved hands and hung her head. “Evan came to speak to Walter and me about the two of you. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him so angry. No other woman has ever held such power over my son. You see, Evan and I’ve always been close and it…pains me to admit this, but I was jealous. I told him that if you were willing to break off another engagement over the first disagreement, then you weren’t the woman for him.

  “I must have been more persuasive than I realized. Later Evan told me he couldn’t fight both of us and that he’d decided to abide by your wishes.”

  “He said that to me, too,” Mary Jo murmured.

  “It’s been several weeks now, but nothing’s changed. My son still loves you very much. When you had this accident, he refused to leave the hospital. I came here myself early one morning and found Evan sitting alone in the hospital chapel.” She paused and her lower lip trembled. “I knew then that you weren’t some passing fancy in his life. He loves you as he’s never loved another woman and probably won’t again.”

  Mary Jo leaned forward. “I’ll never be comfortable in the limelight, Mrs. Dryden,” she said urgently. “But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to be the kind of wife Evan needs.”

  Mrs. Dryden snapped open her purse, took out a delicate white handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. “It’s time for another confession, I’m afraid. I’ve always believed Evan would do well in politics. I’ve made no secret of my ambitions for my son, but that’s what they were—my ambitions. Not his. If Evan does decide to pursue a political career, it should be his decision, not mine.

  “In light of what’s happened between you two, I’m determined to stay out of it entirely. Whatever happens now depends on Evan. On you, too, of course,” she added hurriedly, “but I promise you, I won’t interfere. I’ve finally learned my lesson.”

  Unable to speak, Mary Jo reached for the other woman’s hand and held it tightly.

  “I’d like it if we could be friends, Mary Jo,” Lois added softly. “I’ll do my damnedest to stop being an interfering old woman.”

  “My mother learned her lessons with my oldest brother, Jack, and his wife. You might like to speak to her sometime and swap stories,” Mary Jo suggested.

  “I’d like that.” She stood and bent to kiss Mary Jo’s cheek. “You’ll go to Evan, then, when you’re able?”

  Mary Jo grinned. “As soon as I look a bit more presentable.”

  “You’ll look wonderful to Evan now, believe me.” The older woman touched her hand softly. “Make him happy, Mary Jo.”

  “I’ll do my very best.”

  “And please let me know when your mother and I can talk. We have a million things to discuss about the wedding.”

  Mary Jo ventured, a little hesitantly, “The wedding will be small and private.”

  “Whatever you decide.”

  “But perhaps we could have a big reception afterward and invite the people you wouldn’t want to offend by excluding.”

  “An excellent idea.” Lois smiled broadly.

  “Thank you for coming to see me.”

  A tear formed in the corner of one of Lois’s eyes. “No. Thank you, my dear.”

  FROM THE DAY of Lois Dryden’s visit, Mary Jo’s recovery was little short of miraculous. She was discharged two days later and spent a week recuperating at her parents’ home before she felt ready to confront Evan.

  According to Jessica, he was frequently out on his sailboat. With her friend’s help, it was a simple matter to discover when he’d scheduled an outing.

  Saturday morning, the sun was bright and the wind brisk—a perfect sailing day. Mary Jo went down to the marina. Using Damian’s key, she let herself in and climbed aboard Evan’s boat to wait for him.

  She hadn’t been there long when he arrived. He must have seen her right away, although he gave no outward indication that he had.

  She still felt somewhat uncomfortable about her hair, now about half an inch long. She’d tried to disguise it with a turban, but that only make her look as if she should be reading palms or tea leaves. So she left it unadorned.

  “Mary Jo?”

  “It hard to tell without the hair, right?” she joked.

  “What are you doing here?” Evan wasn’t unfriendly; nor did he seem particularly pleased to see her.

  “I wanted to talk, and this is the place we do
our best talking. Are you taking the boat out this morning?”

  He ignored the question. “How are you?” The craft rocked gently as he climbed on deck and sat down beside her.

  “Much better. A little weak, but I’m gaining more strength every day.”

  “When were you released from the hospital?”

  Evan knew the answer as well as she did, Mary Jo was sure. Why was he making small talk at a time like this?

  “You already know. Your mother told you, or Jessica.” She paused. “You were at the hospital, Evan.”

  His mouth tightened, but he said nothing.

  “There were periods when I could hear what was going on around me. I was awake, sort of, when you first got there. Another time, I heard you pacing my room, too, and I heard you again when Jessica came by once.” She reached for Evan’s hand and threaded her fingers through his. “One of the first times I actually woke was the middle of the night, and you were there, asleep.”

  “I’ve never been more frightened in my life,” he said hoarsely, as if the words had been wrenched from his throat. He wrapped his arms around her then, but gently, with deliberate care. Mary Jo rested her head against his shoulder, and his grip on her tightened just a little. He buried his face in the delicate curve of her shoulder; she felt his warm strength. After a moment, he released her.

  “I understand my parents’ investment was returned to them—with interest,” she said, her tone deceptively casual.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “They were among the fortunate few to have their money refunded.”

  “Their money?” She raised her hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “Evan, I know what you did.”

  He frowned. He had that confused, what-are-you-talking-about expression down to an art.

  “You might have been able to get away with it but, you see, the papers came.”

  “What papers?”

  “The day of my accident my parents received a notice from the bankruptcy court—as I’m sure you know. If their investment had been returned, how do you explain that?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t have a clue.”

  “Evan, please, it’s not necessary to play games with me.”

  He seemed to feel a sudden need to move around. He stood, stretched and moved to the far end of the sailboat. Pointedly, he glanced at his watch. “I wish I had time to chat, but unfortunately I’m meeting a friend.”

  “Evan, we need to talk.”

  “I’m sorry, but you should have let me know sooner. Perhaps we could get together some other time.” He made an elaborate display of staring at the pier, then smiling and waving eagerly.

  A tall, blond woman, incredibly slender and beautifully tanned, waved back. She had the figure of a fashion model and all but purred when Evan hopped out of the boat and met her dockside. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, bending one shapely leg at the knee.

  Mary Jo was stunned. To hear his mother speak, Evan was a lost, lonely man, so in love with her that his world had fallen apart. Clearly, there was something Mrs. Dryden didn’t know.

  In her rush to climb out of the sailboat, Mary Jo nearly fell overboard. With her nearly bald head and the clothes that hung on her because of all the weight she’d lost, she felt like the little match girl standing barefoot in the snow. Especially beside this paragon of feminine perfection.

  She suffered through an introduction that she didn’t hear, made her excuses and promptly left. When she was back in her car, she slumped against the steering wheel, covering her face with both hands.

  Shaken and angry, she returned her parents’ place and called Jessica to tell her what had happened. She was grateful her parents were out.

  She paced the living room in an excess of nervous energy until Jessica arrived, an hour later, looking flustered and disgruntled. “Sorry it took me so long, but I took a cab and it turned out to be the driver’s first day on the job. We got lost twice. So what’s going on? Lord, I don’t know what I’m going to do with the two of you.”

  Mary Jo told her in great detail what had taken place, painting vivid word pictures as she described the other woman.

  Jessica rolled her eyes. “And you fell for it?”

  “Fell for what?” Mary Jo cried. “Bambi was all over him. I didn’t need anyone to spell it out. I was mortified. Good grief,” she said, battling down a sob, “look at me. Last week’s vegetable casserole has more hair than I do.”

  Jessica laughed outright. “Mary Jo, be sensible. The man loves you.”

  “Yeah, I could tell,” she muttered.

  “Her name’s Barbara, not that it matters. Trust me, she doesn’t mean a thing to him.”

  The doorbell chimed and the two women stared at each other. “Are you expecting company?”

  “No.”

  Jessica lowered her voice. “Do you think it could be Evan?”

  On her way to the door, Mary Jo shook her head dismally. “I doubt it.”

  “Just in case, I’d better hide.” Jessica backed out of the room and into the kitchen.

  To her complete surprise, Mary Jo found Lois Dryden at the door.

  “What happened?” the older woman demanded.

  Mary Jo opened the door and let her inside. “Happened?”

  “With Evan.”

  “Jessica,” Mary Jo called over her shoulder. “You can come out now. It’s a Dryden, but it isn’t Evan.”

  “So, Jessica’s here?” Lois said.

  “Yes,” Jessica said. “But what are you doing here?”

  “Checking up on Mary Jo. I got a call from Damian. All he said was that he suspected things hadn’t gone well with Evan and Mary Jo this morning. He said Mary Jo had phoned and Jessica had hurried out shortly afterward. I want to know what went wrong.”

  “It’s a long story,” Mary Jo said reluctantly.

  “I tried calling you,” Lois explained, “then realized you must still be staying with your family. I was going out, anyway, and I thought this might be an excellent opportunity to meet your mother.”

  “She’s out just now.” Mary Jo exhaled shakily and gestured at the sofa. “Sit down, please.”

  Her parents’ house lacked the obvious wealth and luxury of Whispering Willows, but anyone who stepped inside felt immediately welcome. A row of high-school graduation pictures sat proudly on the fireplace mantel. Photos of the grandchildren were scattered about the room. The far wall was lined with bookcases, but some shelves held more trophies than books.

  “I understand you went to see Evan this morning,” his mother said, regarding her anxiously. “I take it the meeting was something of a disaster?”

  “Evan had a date,” Mary Jo said, glancing sharply at Jessica.

  “Hey,” Jessica muttered, “all you asked me to do was find out the next time he was going sailing. How was I supposed to know he was meeting another woman?”

  “Who?” Lois demanded, frowning.

  “Barbara,” Mary Jo supplied.

  Lois made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Oh, yes, I know who she is. She’s a fashion model who flies in from New York every now and again. You haven’t a thing to worry about.”

  “A fashion model.” Mary Jo spirits hit the floor.

  “She’s really not important to him.”

  “That may be so,” Mary Jo pointed out, “but he certainly looked pleased to see her.” Depressed, she slouched down on the sofa and braced her feet against the edge of the coffee table.

  Lois’s back stiffened. “It seems to me I’d better have a chat with that boy.”

  “Mother!” Jessica cried at the same moment Mary Jo yelped a protest.

  “You promised you weren’t going to interfere, remember?” Jessica reminded her mother-in-law. “It only leads to trouble. If Evan wants to make a fool of himself, we’re going to have to let him.”

  “I disagree,” Lois said. “You’re right, of course, about my talking to him—that would only make matters worse—but we can’t allow Mary Jo to let him t
hink he’s getting away with this.”

  “What do you suggest we do?” Jessica asked.

  Lois bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”

  “Time-out,” Mary Jo said, forming a T with her hands—a technique she often used with her kindergarten class. “I appreciate your willingness to help, but I’d really like to do my own plotting, okay? Don’t be offended, but…” Her words trailed off, and her expression turned to pleading.

  Jessica smiled and reached for her hand. “Of course,” she said.

  Mary Jo looked at Lois, and the woman nodded. “You’re absolutely right, my dear. I’ll keep my nose out.” She reached over and gave Mary Jo a hug.

  “Thank you,” Mary Jo whispered.

  MARY JO DIDN’T HEAR from Evan at all the following week. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t disappointed—but of course she was. When it became clear that he was content to leave things between them as they were, she composed a short letter and mailed it to him at his office. After all, it was a business matter.

  Without elaborating, she suggested she work for him the next four summers as compensation for the money he’d given her parents.

  Knowing exactly when he received his morning mail, she waited anxiously by her phone. It didn’t take long. His temporary secretary phoned Mary Jo and set up an appointment for the next morning. By the time she hung up the receiver, Mary Jo was downright gleeful.

  The day of her appointment, she dressed in her best suit and high heels, and arrived promptly at eleven. His secretary escorted her into his office.

  Evan was at his desk, writing on a yellow legal pad, and didn’t look up until the other woman had left the room.

  “So, is there a problem?” she asked flatly.

  “Should there be a problem?”

  She lifted one delicate shoulder. “I can’t imagine why you’d ask to see me otherwise. I can only assume it has something to do with my letter.”

  He leaned back in his chair and rolled a gold pen between his palms. “I don’t know where you came up with this harebrained idea that I forked over twenty-five thousand dollars to your mother and father.”

  “Evan, I’m not stupid. I know exactly what you did. And I know why.”