“This has really got you flustered, hasn’t it?”
“It’s more than the fall,” Shelly explained, lowering the menu. “It’s the man who caught me.”
Jill arched her eyebrows jokingly. “Aha! I should have guessed there was a man involved.”
“You might try to understand how I felt,” Shelly said reproachfully. “Especially since I haven’t recovered from receiving Aunt Milly’s wedding dress yet.”
“Don’t tell me you’re still worried about that first-man-you-meet nonsense.”
“Of course not. That would be ridiculous. It’s just…it’s just I can’t help feeling there might be something to that silly wedding dress.”
“Then mail it back.”
“I can’t,” Shelly said, slapping the menu down on the table. “Aunt Milly warned me not to. She didn’t use exactly those words, mind you. She said I shouldn’t ignore the dress. I mean, how can I? It’s like an albatross around my neck.”
“I still think you’re overreacting.”
“That’s the crazy part. I know I am, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I grew up hearing the legend of that wedding dress, and now it’s in my possession. I’ve got a piece of family history hanging in the back of my closet. What if my mother hears about this?” She shuddered at the thought.
“So you hung the dress in your closet.”
“I tried keeping it under my bed, but I couldn’t sleep, so I finally got up and stuck it in the closet.” She closed the menu and set it aside. “That bothered me, too. I tossed and turned half the night, then I remembered Aunt Milly had done the same thing when the seamstress gave her the dress.”
“She put it under her bed?”
Shelly nodded slowly. “I seem to remember hearing that. She’d tried to refuse it, but the old woman insisted Aunt Milly take the gown home with her. By the time she got to her apartment she’d already met my uncle John, although she still didn’t know she was going to marry him.”
Jill raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Then what? After she put it under her bed and couldn’t sleep, I mean?”
“Well, she did the same thing I did,” Shelly said. “She shoved it in her closet.” Shelly felt as if she was confessing to a crime. “I didn’t want the thing staring me in the face so I hung it in the back.”
“Naturally.” Jill was trying, unsuccessfully, to disguise a smile. Shelly could see how someone else might find her situation humorous, but she personally didn’t think any of this was too amusing. Not when it was her life, her future, being tossed around like…like some cosmic football. At this rate, she’d be married by nightfall!
“That’s not the worst of it,” Shelly added. She exhaled slowly, wondering why her heart was still beating so fiercely.
“You mean there’s more?”
She nodded. The waitress arrived just then and took their orders, returning quickly with glasses of iced tea. Shelly took a deep breath before she continued. “I literally fell into that man’s—Mark Brady’s—arms.”
“How convenient.”
“It’s very nice of him to have broken my fall,” she said sternly, “but I wish he hadn’t.”
“Shelly!”
“I mean it.” She glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then whispered, “The man’s an accountant.”
Jill reacted in mock horror, covering her mouth with both hands. “No! An accountant?”
“Think about it. Could you honestly picture me married to an accountant?”
Jill mulled over the question for a moment. “Hmm, a CPA,” she repeated slowly. “You still haven’t memorized your multiplication tables, have you? You freeze up whenever you have to deal with numbers. No, I guess you’re right, I can’t see you with an accountant.”
Shelly raised both hands, palms up, in a dramatic gesture. “I rest my case.”
Jill reached for some bread, carefully selecting a whole-wheat roll. “Just because you fell into his arms doesn’t mean you’re going to marry him,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice.
“I know that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I can’t make myself believe it,” Shelly said. “I feel like one tiny pin fighting the force of a giant magnet.”
“That’s preposterous.”
“I know,” Shelly agreed readily. “I just wish I hadn’t said anything to Mark.”
Jill set the roll on her plate with exaggerated care. “You told him about your aunt Milly’s wedding dress?”
“Of course not!” Shelly said. “I told him I couldn’t marry him.”
Jill’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t! Did you?”
Shelly nodded. “I don’t know what made me say anything so ludicrous. I can’t imagine what he must think of me. Not that I plan on seeing him again, of course. Unless—”
“Unless what?”
Their lunches were served. Jill had ordered a hot spinach salad with slices of chicken. Shelly’s spinach salad was piled high with shrimp, egg slices and black olives.
“Go on,” Jill urged once the waitress had gone. “You don’t plan on seeing Mark again unless—”
“Unless it’s absolutely unavoidable.”
“I take it this means your aunt Milly’s first encounter with your uncle John wasn’t her last.” Jill giggled. “Silly me. Obviously it wasn’t.”
“No. Even though Aunt Milly didn’t want to see him again. My uncle was a wonderful man, don’t get me wrong, and he was perfect for Aunt Milly, as it turned out, but they were as different as night and day. Aunt Milly was a college graduate and Uncle John never completed high school.”
Shelly sighed wistfully. At one time the story of their romance had been like her own personal fairy tale. But now she didn’t find it nearly as enthralling. “He helped Milly fix her car the night it broke down. The very next day she was in court defending a client in a lawsuit—”
“Let me guess,” Jill interrupted, “your uncle John was the man suing her client.”
Shelly nodded. “Yes, and that was only the beginning. Every time they turned around they were bumping into each other.”
“How soon after they met did they get married?”
This was the question Shelly had dreaded most. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Ten days.”
“Ten days,” Jill echoed with an incredulous look.
“I know. It seems that once they kissed, they both realized there wasn’t any use fighting it.”
“Did your aunt tell John about the seamstress and the wedding dress?”
Shelly shrugged. “I don’t know, but my guess is she didn’t…at least not at first.” She hadn’t touched her salad yet and paused to savor a forkful of her favorite seafood. Then she said abruptly, “They eloped without telling anyone.”
“Children?” Jill wanted to know.
“Three boys. My mother’s cousins.”
“What about granddaughters? You’d think your aunt Milly would want to hand the dress down to one of them.”
“All three of her sons had boys themselves. I guess you could say I’m the closest she’s got to a granddaughter.”
“Ten days,” Jill repeated. “That’s really something.”
Forking up another succulent shrimp, Shelly continued her story. “That old Scottish woman knew about the wedding even before the family did. When Aunt Milly and Uncle John returned from their honeymoon, there was a wedding card from the seamstress waiting for them.”
Jill propped her elbows on the table and gazed at Shelly. “Tell me what Mark Brady looks like.”
Shelly frowned, trying to form her impressions of him into some kind of reasonably articulate description. He was compelling in ways she didn’t quite understand. She sensed that he was principled and headstrong, but what made her so sure of that, Shelly couldn’t explain. “He’s tall,” she began slowly. “And he was wearing a suit.”
“How tall?”
“Basketball-player tall. He must be about six-five.”
“Bro
wn hair?”
Shelly nodded. “With blue eyes. Really blue eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man with eyes that precise color. They seemed to…” She hesitated, unsettled by the emotion that stirred within her when she thought about Mark. Although their encounter had been brief, Shelly was left feeling oddly certain that she could trust this man, trust him implicitly. It wasn’t a sensation she could remember experiencing with any other man. She didn’t like the feeling; it made her uncomfortable. Until Jill had started asking her about Mark, Shelly didn’t realize she’d experienced any emotion toward him—except for embarrassment, of course.
“Why do you want to know?” she asked.
Jill gave her a knowing grin. “Because if he’s as tall as you say, with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes, and he’s wearing a suit, he just walked into this restaurant.”
“What?” Shelly felt her stomach sink. “Mark’s here? Mark Brady?”
“That’s not so unusual, is it? This is, after all, the same shopping mall where you, uh, met—” Jill made a show of glancing at her watch “—thirty or so minutes ago.”
“He’s here.” She reminded herself that Jill was right: Mark’s choosing to have lunch at Patrick’s was just a coincidence. Too bad she couldn’t convince her racing heart to believe that.
“He’s on the other side of the room,” Jill whispered.
“Has he seen me yet?”
“I don’t think so.”
Without being obvious—or at least Shelly hoped she wasn’t being obvious—she turned to look in his direction. At that same instant, Mark happened to look up. Their eyes met. Despite herself, she gasped. Her hands shook and she felt herself break out in a cold sweat.
Mark scowled and quickly looked away.
She couldn’t blame him. He seemed surprised to see her there. Unpleasantly surprised.
“Well, is it him?” Jill demanded.
Shelly couldn’t find her voice, so she answered with a nod.
“I thought it might be. What are you thinking?”
“That I’ve lost my appetite.” Shelly doubted she’d be able to finish her lunch.
“You want my advice?” Jill asked, grinning broadly. “I don’t have a lot of experience with magic wedding dresses, but I recently read a fascinating book on home remedies.”
“Sure.” At this point Shelly was feeling reckless enough to try just about anything.
“Garlic,” Jill said solemnly. “Wear a garlic rope around your neck. Not only does it deter vampires and prevent colds, but it might ward off potential husbands conjured up by a magic wedding dress.”
Four
Hard though she tried, Shelly had a difficult time ignoring Mark Brady. He sat there, stiff and unapproachable, at the other side of the small restaurant. Just as stiff and unapproachable as she was. Jill wanted to linger over her coffee before returning to her job at the PayRite Pharmacy in the mall, but Shelly was eager to be on her way. The sooner she left, the sooner she could put this bothersome encounter behind her.
“Don’t forget Morgan’s baby shower on Tuesday night,” Jill said as Shelly reached for her purse.
Shelly had completely forgotten about their friend’s party, which was understandable given her present state of mind. Most of their college friends were married and several were now having babies. Rather than admit how absentminded she’d suddenly become, Shelly asked, “Do you want to drive over together?”
“Sure,” Jill said. “I have to go directly from work so I’ll stop off at your place and we can leave from there.”
“I’ll be ready.” She tried to imagine their excitable classmate as a wife and mother. It was Morgan who’d gotten the entire dorm hooked on Survivor. Before anyone could figure out how it had occurred, all the girls were obsessed with the participants and their lives. It became as important as mealtimes to learn who’d been voted off and who’d won that week’s challenges.
For no particular reason, Shelly thought of Aunt Milly’s wedding dress—which seemed to have become her own private challenge. Sighing, she dropped her share of the bill and a tip on the table. “I’ll see you Tuesday, then.”
“Right. And, Shelly, don’t look so worried. No enchanted wedding dress is going to interfere with your life—unless you allow it to.”
Easy for Jill to say, since it wasn’t her life and her great-aunt’s wedding dress. Nevertheless, her advice was sound. Aunt Milly might have had some fanciful dream about Shelly’s marrying a tall man with blue eyes, but that didn’t mean it was going to happen, especially when Shelly was so determined that it wouldn’t.
“You’re absolutely right,” she said emphatically. “I know I keep saying that, but…well, I seem to need reminding. So, thanks. Again.” With a final wave, she wandered out of the restaurant, barely noticing the colorful shop windows as she passed them. As Jill had pointed out, Aunt Milly meant well, but the letter and the wedding dress shouldn’t be taken too seriously.
Shelly knew exactly what kind of man she’d fall in love with, and he wouldn’t bear any resemblance to Mark Brady. He’d be unconventional, and fervent about life, and as passionate as she was herself. Naturally, he’d appreciate her work and take pride in his own. He’d be a free spirit, like her. She’d prefer a man with gumption, too—someone who possessed initiative. It’d be nice if he was a little better at organizational skills than she was, but that wasn’t a requirement.
With marriage so prominent in her mind, Shelly found herself standing in front of a jeweler’s display window, studying a large assortment of wedding bands. She noticed one ring that stood out from the rest: three small rows of diamond chips, bracketed on each side by a thin band of gold. The ring was striking in its simplicity, its uncontrived beauty.
For the longest moment Shelly stared at the rings as she wove whimsical dreams around the happy bride and the tall groom. Tall groom. Her thoughts came to a skidding halt.
What on earth had come over her? She didn’t know, but whatever it was, she didn’t like it. Self-consciously she glanced around, fearful that someone was watching her. Well, a very specific someone, to be honest. Someone who definitely shouldn’t see her gazing with open longing at a collection of absurdly high-priced wedding rings. Mark Brady.
With a sense of urgency, Shelly hurried toward the mall exit. It was all she could do to keep from breaking into a run. No matter how fast she walked, however, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was there, watching her. Twice she whirled around, convinced she’d see Mark Brady strolling behind her, sneering and making contemptuous remarks.
He wasn’t there.
With profound relief, she arrived at the parking lot and located her car. She finally felt herself relax as she neared her apartment building. Once she’d parked her car, Shelly stopped in the lobby to collect her mail. As soon as she opened the small box, Mrs. Livingston’s head poked out her door.
“Good afternoon, Shelly,” she chirped, smiling at her expectantly.
It took Shelly a moment to realize that Mrs. L. must have been waiting to hear about the contents of her package.
“It’s a lovely day,” Shelly said conversationally, sorting through her mail. Two bills, a flyer and something from the Internal Revenue Service. The way her luck had been going, it was probably an audit notice. A quick inspection revealed exactly that. She closed her eyes and groaned inwardly.
“A lovely day indeed,” Mrs. Livingston echoed cheerfully.
Muttering under her breath, Shelly stuffed the IRS notice back inside the envelope. When she looked up, she saw that the older woman was now standing in the hallway.
“I suppose you’re wondering about the package,” Shelly said resignedly, tucking her mail inside her purse. “It was a gift from my aunt Milly.”
“Something from the past, I guess?” Mrs. Livingston asked.
“Why…yes. How’d you know?”
“I’d take whatever it is very, very seriously if I were you,” Mrs. Livingston continued in a solemn voice. “Wizar
d wouldn’t go anywhere near that box. Think what you want, but my cat’s always had a sixth sense when it comes to this sort of thing.”
“It’s a dress, Mrs. L.,” Shelly explained, hiding behind a false smile. “How am I supposed to take a dress seriously?” It was exactly what she’d vowed not to do.
Mrs. Livingston opened her apartment door and scooped the large black-and-white cat into her arms. “That I wouldn’t know,” she returned, her eyes narrowed. “All I can tell you is that Wizard felt skittish around that package. You don’t suppose there’s…magic in it, do you?”
Somehow Shelly managed a reply, although she felt certain it was unintelligible. Taking the stairs two at a time, she dashed into her apartment, leaning breathlessly against the door. Even Mrs. Livingston’s cat knew there was something strange about Aunt Milly’s wedding dress!
When Jill arrived late Tuesday afternoon, Shelly was ready and waiting for her, brightly wrapped baby gift in hand. She was eager to get out and socialize—eager to get out, period. Anything to escape another phone call from her mother, who’d recently heard from Aunt Milly. Now Faith Hansen was calling daily for updates on the romantic prospects in her daughter’s life.
“Well?” Jill demanded as she entered the apartment. “Are you going to show it to me?”
“Show what to you?”
Jill gave her a look that seemed to question her intelligence. “The wedding dress, of course.”
For several hours Shelly had succeeded in putting the dress out of her mind. “No,” she said forcefully. “I want to forget about the whole thing.”
“Met any tall blue-eyed men lately?” Jill couldn’t resist asking.
“None,” Shelly answered shortly. Checking her watch, she noted that they were early but suggested they leave, anyway. “Shall we go?”
“We’ve got lots of time,” Jill countered, moving toward Shelly’s bedroom. “Come on, it isn’t going to hurt to let me look at the dress.”
“Oh, all right,” Shelly conceded ungraciously. Leading the way, she opened the closet door and reached into the back of the closet.
The Man You'll Marry Page 3
