The Man You'll Marry

by Debbie Macomber

  She brought out the lace-and-satin gown, holding it up for Jill’s inspection. She’d hardly looked at the dress the day she’d received it, and now she was almost shocked by how beautiful it actually was.

  The laughter drained from Jill’s dark brown eyes as she stared at the gown. “Oh, Shelly, it’s…lovely.” She gently touched the Elizabethan sleeve and ran her finger along the delicate layer of pearls that decorated the cuff. The high neckline was also trimmed with an intricate design of pearls. “I don’t know what I expected,” Jill said in an awed whisper, “but certainly nothing as beautiful as this.”

  Shelly nodded wordlessly. The dress was far more exquisite than she’d realized. Her heart swelled with sudden emotion, and to her dismay, tears filled her eyes as she thought about the old Scottish woman who had so lovingly constructed the gown. Each pearl had been sewn into place by hand. She thought of her aunt Milly, as tall and statuesque as Shelly herself, wearing the dress. Then she recalled her uncle John, such a determined man, so wise and sensible. Shelly thought fondly of those two, who’d been so completely different, yet had loved each other so well….

  For a moment neither she nor Jill spoke. “Have you tried it on?” Jill finally asked.

  Shelly shook her head adamantly, not wanting her friend to know how emotional she’d become. “Heavens, no, but you can if you want.”

  “I don’t think I could resist if I were you,” Jill whispered, obviously affected by the dress, too. “Just seeing it…makes me wish I was a bride myself.”

  “There’s always Ralph,” Shelly teased. Jill had been dating Ralph, a computer programmer, for several months, but Shelly couldn’t understand what her friend saw in him.

  Jill threw her an irritated look. “The dress is for you, not me.”

  “But I don’t want it,” Shelly insisted, though she was no longer sure what she felt. Not since she’d really examined the dress and allowed herself to remember the wonder of John and Milly’s romance.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?” Jill asked, slipping off her shoes. “I mean, if you’d rather I didn’t try it on, I’ll understand.”

  “No, feel free.” Shelly strove for a flippant air. “As far as I’m concerned, the dress is nothing but bad luck. It arrived on Friday the thirteenth. The next day I had that minor accident on the mall escalator. Now I’m being audited by the IRS.”

  It was as if Jill didn’t hear. “I doubt it’ll fit,” she said as she cautiously removed the gown from the padded hanger. “I’m a good five inches shorter than you and heavier on top.”

  “Maybe the dress was meant for you in the first place,” Shelly ventured. Perhaps Aunt Milly had been confused and it was Jill she’d viewed in her dream. After all, Milly’s eyes weren’t what they used to be….

  “Does your mother know?” Jill asked as she stepped into the dress. She raised it over her hips and turned around to let Shelly fasten the buttons that ran down the back.

  “That’s another thing,” Shelly moaned. “Mom’s been calling me every day since I got the dress, wanting to know if I’ve met anyone special yet.”

  “What did you tell her?” Jill asked, looking at Shelly over her shoulder.

  “What’s there to tell?” she asked irritably.

  “Well, you might have mentioned Mark.”

  “Mark,” Shelly repeated. She shrugged elaborately. “I haven’t given him a thought in days.” Not strictly true, but she’d been trying not to think about him. Even if he was interested in her—and he’d made very clear that he wasn’t—she couldn’t imagine two more ill-suited people. “I haven’t seen him since Saturday and I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “Positive.”

  “Well, what do you think?” Jill asked next, pirouetting slowly in front of her. “My hair’s a mess and I’ve got hardly any makeup on, but…”

  Shelly studied her friend and sighed audibly. Never had she seen Jill look lovelier. It was as if the dress had been made for her. “Absolutely enchanting. It fits like a dream.”

  “I feel like I am dreaming,” Jill admitted softly. “Here,” she said, turning around, “undo me before I start longing for a husband and 2.5 children.”

  “Don’t forget the house with the white picket fence,” Shelly teased, unfastening the buttons.

  Jill slipped out of the dress. “Your turn,” she said as she laid it carefully across the bed. “If it fits me, then it can’t possibly fit you. You’ve got the perfect excuse to send it back to your aunt Milly.”

  “I…don’t know.” Shelly bit her lip. She felt an inexplicable urge to keep the dress, and at the same time she would’ve willingly returned it to her aunt. Even while she hesitated, Shelly found herself undressing. She couldn’t explain her sudden eagerness to try on the wedding gown any more than she could fathom its growing emotional appeal.

  The dress slid easily over her hips. She turned around so Jill could secure the back, then glanced at the mirror, expecting to find the skirt miles too short. It would have to be in order to fit Jill as perfectly as it had.

  “Shelly,” Jill whispered, then cupped her hand over her mouth. “My goodness…you look beautiful…really beautiful.”

  That was what Shelly had felt the instant she’d seen her friend in the dress. “Something’s wrong,” she said once she found her voice. “Something’s very wrong.”

  “No,” Jill countered, “it’s very right. It’s as if the dress was made for you.”

  “Then answer me this,” Shelly whispered. “How is it possible for the same dress to fit two women who wear totally different sizes?”

  Five

  Shelly struggled to open the door of the Internal Revenue office, her arms weighed down with a huge box stuffed full of receipts and records for the audit. By bracing the box against the wall with her knee, she freed one hand to open the door. For the first time ever, she’d completed her tax return early—all by herself, too—and this was her reward. She grumbled righteously and bit her lip, more in anxiety than annoyance.

  She’d just managed to grasp the door handle, when the door unexpectedly opened and she staggered into the room, nearly colliding with an end table. She did a quick pirouette, convinced she’d ruined a new pair of panty hose. With a heartfelt sigh, she set her box of records on the floor and sank into the first available chair, neatly arranging her unaccustomed skirt around her knees. Only then did she bother to look around. There was one other person in the large reception area.

  Shelly’s heart did a nosedive, landing in the pit of her stomach. The man who’d opened the door for her, the man sitting in this very waiting room, was none other than Mark Brady—the man she’d hoped to avoid for the rest of her natural life. She gave an involuntary gasp.

  Mark was leafing through the dog-eared pages of a magazine when he happened to glance her way. The automatic smile faded from his face, and his eyes narrowed as if he strongly suspected Shelly had purposely arranged this meeting.

  “What are you doing here?” Shelly demanded.

  “I might ask you the same thing.”

  “I didn’t follow you here, if that’s what you’re implying!”

  “Listen, Ms…Hansen, I really couldn’t care less.” With that he returned to his magazine, but he raised his head again a moment later. “You’re the person who blurted out to everyone within hearing distance that you weren’t marrying me. As if I’d even asked! As if I even knew you!”

  Shelly felt the heat rising up her neck and offered the first excuse she could think of. “I…was distraught.”

  “Obviously,” he muttered from behind his magazine.

  A few minutes of strained silence passed. Shelly shifted uncomfortably in her chair, checking her watch approximately every ten seconds. She was early for her appointment, but if this was where promptness got you, she’d prefer to be late.

  “All right, I apologize,” Shelly said when she couldn’t tolerate the silence any longer. “What I said
was ridiculous and…and out of turn—”

  “Out of turn,” Mark echoed, throwing the magazine down on the table. “I repeat—I don’t even know you.”

  “I realize that.”

  He inhaled deeply, which drew her attention to his broad, muscular chest. She saw that he was as meticulously dressed as he’d been at their first encounter. His dark suit and silk tie, however conventional, added a touch of sophistication to his natural good looks.

  “If there’s anyone to blame for this it’s Aunt Milly,” Shelly said, more to herself than him.

  “Aunt Milly?” Mark repeated, sounding unsure. He eyed her warily.

  She’d said this much; she might as well launch into the whole ludicrous tale.

  “Actually, it has more to do with the wedding dress than with my aunt Milly, although by now the two of them are inseparable in my mind. I don’t usually dabble in this sort of thing, but I’m beginning to think there might be something supernatural about that silly dress, after all.”

  “Supernatural?”

  “Magic, if you prefer.”

  “Magic in a wedding dress?” Mark gazed hopefully at the door that led to the inner offices of Internal Revenue, as though he was anxious to be called away.

  “It’s unbelievable, but the dress fits both Jill and me, which is virtually impossible. You saw Jill—she’s the friend I was having lunch with last Saturday. I know we were halfway across the room from you, but you couldn’t help noticing how much shorter she is than I am. We’re completely different sizes.”

  Mark hurriedly reached for the magazine as if he wanted to shut her out before she said anything else.

  “I know it seems crazy. I don’t like this any better than you do, but I’m afraid you’re the one Aunt Milly mentioned in her letter.” Well, it was only fair to tell him that.

  Mark glanced in her direction again, blue eyes suspicious. “Your aunt Milly mentioned me in a letter?”

  “Not by name—but she said she had a clear vision of me in the wedding dress and I was standing with a tall man. She also referred to blue eyes. You’re tall and you have blue eyes and the legend says I’m going to marry the first man I meet after receiving the dress.”

  “And I just happened to be that man?”

  “Yes,” Shelly cried. “Now do you understand why I was so disturbed when we met?”

  “Not entirely,” Mark said after a moment.

  Shelly sighed loudly. How obtuse could the man be? “You’re tall, aren’t you? And you have blue eyes.”

  He flipped intently through the magazine, not looking at her as he spoke. “I really don’t care what the letter said, nor am I concerned about this wedding dress you keep bringing up.”

  “Of course you don’t care,” Shelly said indignantly. “Why should you? It must all seem quite absurd to you. And I’m aware that I’m overreacting, but I do have a tendency to get emotional. If it helps any, I want you to know I’m happy with my life just the way it is. I don’t want to get married—to anyone.” When she’d finished, she drew in a deep breath and began leafing idly through a magazine, doing her utmost to ignore him.

  Silence returned. Silences had always bothered Shelly. It was as if she felt personally responsible for filling them. “If you want something to be grateful about, you can thank your lucky stars I didn’t mention you to my mother.”

  “Your mother,” Mark repeated. “Does she know about Aunt Milly sending you this…dress?”

  “Of course she does,” Shelly answered, closing the magazine. “She’s phoned me every day since she heard, because she thinks I’m going to meet that special someone any minute.”

  “And you didn’t say anything about me?”

  “How could I? The instant I do that, she’ll be calling the caterers.”

  “I see.” The edges of his mouth lifted as though he was beginning to find the situation amusing. “She believes in the power of this dress, too?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. You have to understand where my mother stands on the issue of marriage,” Shelly continued, undaunted.

  “I’m not sure I want to,” Mark muttered under his breath.

  Shelly disregarded his comment. “By age twenty-eight—my age now, coincidentally—Mom had been married for eight years and already had three children. She’s convinced I’m letting the best years of my life slip away. There’s nothing I can say to make her believe differently.”

  “Then I’ll add my gratitude that you didn’t mention me.”

  Mollified, Shelly nodded, then glanced at her watch. Her meeting was in ten minutes and she was nervous, since this was the first time she’d done her own taxes. She should have known there’d be a problem.

  “I take it you’re here for an audit?” Mark asked.

  She nodded again, studying her tax return, sure she’d be in jail by nightfall without even understanding what she’d done wrong.

  “Relax.”

  “How can I?”

  “Have you knowingly hidden something from the government? Lied about the income you received, or claimed expenditures you’ve never made?”

  “Oh, no!”

  “Then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “I don’t?” Shelly stared at him, envying his confidence. She’d been restless for days, worrying about this meeting. If it wasn’t the wedding dress giving her nightmares, it was the audit.

  “Don’t volunteer any information unless they ask for it.”

  “All right.”

  “Did you prepare your own tax return?”

  “Well, yes. It didn’t seem that complicated, and well, this sounds silly but Jill bet me I couldn’t do it. So I did. Back in February. You see, numbers tend to confuse me and I decided to accept the challenge, and…” She realized she was chattering, something she did when she was nervous. Forcing herself to stay quiet, she scanned her return for the hundredth time, wondering what she could have possibly done wrong.

  “Do you want me to look it over for you?”

  Shelly was surprised by his generosity. “If you wouldn’t mind. Are you being audited yourself?”

  Mark smiled and shook his head. “A client of mine is.”

  “Oh.”

  He crossed the room and sat next to her. When Shelly handed him her tax return, he quickly ran down the row of figures, then asked her several questions.

  “I’ve got everything right here,” she assured him, gesturing toward the carton she’d lugged in with her. “I really am careful about saving everything I should.”

  Mark gestured at the large cardboard box. “This is all for one year?”

  “No,” she admitted sheepishly. “I brought along everything I had for the past six years. I mean, it made sense at the time.”

  “That really wasn’t necessary.”

  “I’d rather be safe than sorry,” Shelly said with a shrug. She watched Mark as he scrutinized her return. At such close range, she saw that his eyes were even bluer than she’d thought. Blue as the sky on a bright July afternoon…Her heart felt heavy in her chest, and hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep herself from staring.

  Mark handed back her return. “Everything looks fine. I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”

  It was astonishing how relieved she felt at hearing that. No, at hearing that from him. Mark smiled at her and Shelly found herself responding readily with a smile of her own. The fluttery sensation returned to her stomach. She knew her eyes were wide and questioning and although she tried to look away, she couldn’t do it.

  Surprise mingled with gentleness on his face, as if he were seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. He liked what he saw—Shelly could read that in his eyes. Slowly his gaze traveled over her features, and she felt her pulse speed up. The letter she’d received from Aunt Milly flitted through her mind, but instead of dismissing the memory, she wondered, Could there really be something to all this?

  Mark was the one to break eye contact. He stood abruptly and hurried back to his se
at. “I don’t think you have to worry.”

  “Yes, you told me.”

  “I mean about your aunt Milly’s wedding dress.”

  “I don’t have to worry?” Shelly repeated. She wasn’t sure she understood.

  “Not with me, at any rate.”

  “I don’t quite follow….” If he was even half-aware of the way her heart was clamoring as they gazed into each other’s eyes, he wouldn’t be nearly as confident.

  “I’m engaged.”

  “Engaged?” Shelly felt as though someone had slugged her in the stomach. Her first reaction was anger. “You couldn’t have mentioned this sooner?” she snapped.

  “It’s not official yet. Janice hasn’t picked out a diamond. Nor have we discussed our plans with her family.”

  The irritation faded, swallowed by an overwhelming sense of relief. “Engaged,” she murmured, reminding herself that she really had no interest in marriage. And this proved there was no such thing as a “magic” wedding dress. If Mark was involved with Janice, he wouldn’t be free to marry her. It was that simple. Shelly leaped to her feet and started to pace.

  “Are you all right?” Mark asked. “You’re looking pale.”

  She nodded and pressed her hands to her cheeks, which suddenly felt hot. “I’m so relieved,” she whispered hoarsely. “You have no idea how relieved I am. You’re engaged…My goodness, I feel like I’ve got a new lease on life.”

  “As I explained,” Mark said, frowning, “it isn’t official yet.”

  “That’s okay. You’re committed to someone else and that’s all that matters. However—” she forced a smile “—you might have said something sooner and saved me all this anxiety.”

  “You did ask that day at the mall, but I was more concerned with avoiding a scene than revealing the personal details of my life.”

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  “No problem.”

  Shelly settled back in the chair and crossed her legs, hoping to strike a relaxed pose. She even managed to skim a couple of magazines, although she barely knew what she was reading.

  Finally, the receptionist opened the door and called her name. Eager to get this over with, Shelly stood, picking up the large box she’d brought with her. She paused on her way out of the reception area and turned to Mark. “I wish you and Janice every happiness,” she said formally.