A Bride by Christmas

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  “Interesting,” he said, frowning thoughtfully. “So you’re saying that superstitions, old wives’ tales, jinxes are based on a foundation of long-standing foolishness.”

  “Well, no, not entirely. I was referring to superstitions only. There are certain jinxes that have proven merit.”

  “So you say,” he said thoughtfully. “Or could it be rather a long string of poor judgment? I had this friend in college who was convinced he was jinxed when it came to owning a car. Every used vehicle he purchased turned out to be a lemon. So he quit, gave up, said never again. He rode a bike, took buses and taxis. Man, what a hassle.”

  “But smart,” Maggie said decisively.

  “I didn’t go with that theory. I convinced him to try one more time, run that risky risk. We went to a used-car lot and he looked at a bunch of vehicles, then settled on the one he would buy if he was going to, which he wasn’t. We took it for a test drive and stopped to see another buddy of mine who was a mechanic.”

  “And he said the car was a clunker. Right?” Maggie said.

  “No, he declared it to be prime, good for another hundred thousand miles, so my friend bought it.”

  Maggie blinked, then frowned. “Really?”

  “Really. The last time I saw him he was still driving that thing. He said it gave him cold chills to dwell on the narrow existence he would have had if he hadn’t sucked in a deep breath that day and taken that risk, bought the car.”

  “But—”

  “Think about it.” Luke dropped a quick kiss on Maggie’s lips. “Come on, let’s go. You’ll be late for the appointment for the dresses.”

  “The what?” Maggie said absently. “Oh! The dresses. I’ve got to dash.”

  They left the suite and as Maggie hurried down the hallway in front of Luke, he punched one fist in the air.

  Yes! he thought. He’d scored some points—big-time. The story he’d made up about the guy and car was genius-level thinking, especially since he had done it on the spur of the moment because the opportunity had been so perfect for it.

  Maggie had heard every word he’d said, was digesting it in that mighty little mind of hers as evidenced by the fact that she’d momentarily forgotten about the appointment she was almost late for.

  He was folding his tent graciously and without complaint each time she declared one of his superstitions, albeit fictitious ones, as nonsense. All he was asking of her was to give up one jinx. One.

  The one that would mean the difference between their having a future together or not. The one that would determine their entire lives. The one he had to defeat in the ongoing battle he was conducting to win the war and a forever with Maggie Jenkins.

  “I’m just going to tape this hem in place for now,” the seamstress said to Maggie, “until the actual bridesmaid is here for the final fitting.”

  “Oh, I wish it was really me,” Janet said wistfully as the seamstress worked on the hem. “This dress is scrumptious. I love this color of green, Maggie. I want to own this dress.”

  “That’s what Patty said before she left,” Maggie said, laughing. She was seated on a velvet-covered chair, sipping a cup of tea. “She said this whole business is pure torture because she’s had the dress on but it really belongs to someone else.”

  “She’s right,” Janet said.

  “All set for today,” the seamstress said, getting to her feet. “Let me help you take this dress off.”

  “No, I want to keep it,” Janet said, then laughed. “Would it do me any good to throw a tantrum?”

  “I’m afraid not,” the woman said, smiling.

  The dress was removed and the seamstress left the room. Janet began to pull on her own clothes.

  “Janet,” Maggie said quietly, “may I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “When you married Roger, did you believe that you would be the one to break the Jenkins Jinx, end it for all time?”

  “Truthfully?” Janet said, sitting down next to Maggie. “I loved Roger so much, Maggie, that I blatantly ignored things about him that were red-alert signals indicating problems down the line.”

  Maggie set her teacup on the delicate table next to her and sat up straighter in her chair.

  “Really?” she said. “I didn’t know that.”

  “No one did,” Janet said, sighing. “I thought I could change him, dum-dum that I was. He gambled far too much, hadn’t held a job longer than a year in his entire life, thought money should be spent and enjoyed now with no thought given to the future.

  “Even after the babies started coming he didn’t get his act together. It was like having another child to raise. When I got divorced, no one asked me why, really. The family just assumed it was the Jenkins Jinx doing its thing.”

  “And Bill?” Maggie said, her heart racing. “What about your marriage to Bill?”

  “Oh, sweetie, that was a joke. I was lonely, broke, scared to death of being a single mother, living paycheck to paycheck, and I latched onto Bill. Six months later I was sick to death of him cheating on me. Ta-da. Divorce number two for Janet the dunce.”

  “Why…why didn’t you ever say that the Jenkins Jinx didn’t have anything to do with your divorces?” Maggie said.

  “It was easier that way, Maggie. Why tell everyone that I had such lousy judgment, had made such awful mistakes and was paying the price? The whole family felt so sorry for me because I was another victim of the jinx, so I let it stand, kept my mouth shut.”

  “Don’t you believe there really is a Jenkins Jinx?” Maggie said, hardly breathing.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Janet said, frowning. “Is it real? Does this family just have poor judgment in its choice of partners? Or did some of those marriages in our family tree collapse due to the jinx? I don’t know the answer to that.” She cocked her head slightly and studied Maggie. “Why are you asking me all this? It has been ages since you and I have talked about the jinx.”

  “I, um. Well, because… Yes, because of Roses and Wishes. I deal with happy brides all the time and…Mom thinks I made a mistake starting a business that only emphasizes what I’ll never have because of the jinx. She really believes the jinx is true, you know. Having Roses and Wishes has made me think about it more than I normally would that’s all.”

  Janet narrowed her eyes. “You never could lie worth a damn, Maggie Jenkins. Something is going on with you. Talk to me, little sister.”

  Maggie got to her feet. “There’s nothing to tell you, Janet.” She looked at her watch. “My, my, look at the time. I’ve got to go. I have so much to do. Details, details, details—the list is endless for a wedding.”

  “Your dream wedding,” Janet said, rising. “That’s what you’re tending to.”

  “Well, it just worked out that way because of this unusual situation with Precious and Clyde,” Maggie said. “I explained all that to you. So, yes, this is the wedding I would have if I was going to have a wedding, which I’m not because of the jinx…which you’re now suggesting might not be real and…” She slapped one hand onto her forehead. “I’m getting a roaring headache, thank you very much.”

  “Maggie, there is no way to prove that the jinx is real, no matter what Mom says.”

  “But we’ve believed it ever since we were young girls, Janet. We can’t pretend it isn’t there. We lost count of the divorces in our family tree. There is not one happy Jenkins marriage in our history.”

  “And there could be an explanation for every one of those divorces just as there is for my two. As for Mom and Dad? The jinx? Come on, Maggie, it was a classic case of the guy who falls for his sexy secretary and thinks he can recapture his youth by dumping his wife and three kids and going off with a bimbo. That’s not a jinx, that’s a hormone rush or whatever.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t know,” Janet said, throwing up her hands. “Someday maybe a Jenkins will stay happily married for fifty years and this jinx thing will be old news. Love is powerful when it’s right and real
. Will that Jenkins be one of my kids? Or will that someone be…you?”

  “Me?” Maggie said, her voice a strange-sounding squeak. “Don’t be silly. I’m not brave enough to test out the theory that the jinx might not be real. I’m not going to run the risk of having my heart broken to pieces. Nope. Not me.”

  “Oh?” Janet said, raising her eyebrows. “What happens if you fall head over heels in love?”

  I already have, Maggie thought dismally. And I’m not going to do one thing about it beyond accepting the fact that my time with Luke St. John is measured on the calendar.

  “Let’s change the subject,” she said. “Want to hear something funny? There’s a superstition that when you see an ambulance you’ll have bad luck unless you pinch your nose until you see a black or brown dog.”

  Janet laughed. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know. Try this one. If you have a goldfish in a pond at your home it’s good luck, but a goldfish kept inside the house is bad luck.”

  “Where are you getting this stuff?” Janet said, shaking her head.

  “And if the bottom of your feet itch,” Maggie rushed on, “you’re going to make a trip.”

  “I’m going to make a trip home right now,” Janet said, smiling, “before you lay any more cuckoo stuff on me. Superstitions are nonsense.”

  “Are jinxes?” Maggie said, suddenly serious. “Is the Jenkins Jinx as nonsensical as the superstitions I just rattled off?”

  Janet sighed. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Someone in this family is going to have to fall in love, listen to their heart for the truth, the honest-to-goodness truth of that love and— Good grief, look at the time. I’ve got to pick up the kids.” She gave Maggie a quick hug. “Thanks for letting me play Cinderella in that gorgeous dress. ’Bye.”

  “’Bye,” Maggie said, then sank back down on the pretty chair and stared into space.

  Her mind was a mess, she decided. For as long as she could remember she’d believed that the Jenkins Jinx was real. But now? After discussing it with her sister? It was all so confusing, so muddled.

  Yes, she was in love with Luke. But, no, she couldn’t, just couldn’t, run the risk of ignoring the jinx only to discover that it was a genuine curse that hung over her family. But Janet had said that her two failed marriages had nothing to do with a jinx. But then again…

  “Excuse me,” the seamstress said, coming back into the room.

  “Yes?” Maggie said, relieved to be pulled from her jumbled thoughts.

  “Time is passing and that wedding you’re coordinating will be here before you know it,” the woman said. “Are you going to look at our selection of exquisite wedding dresses today?”

  “No, not today,” Maggie said, an achy sensation gripping her throat as she got to her feet. “I’m suddenly exhausted, so very tired.”

  “I understand,” the seamstress said. “But you will pick the bride’s dress soon, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” Maggie said softly. “I’ll do it…soon, I promise. I’ll have my Cinderella moment, then take the dress off and…and just be me again.”

  Just Maggie, she thought. Counting down the days until she said goodbye to Luke and was simply Maggie Jenkins. Alone and lonely.

  Ten

  During the next month Maggie came to feel as though there were two different people existing in her own body.

  One was carefree, happy and deeply in love with Luke, enjoying every moment they spent together.

  They ate out often, went to the movies, flew a kite in a grassy field, enjoyed a picnic and canoe ride at Encanto Park, shopped at various malls and attended several interesting lectures at Arizona State University. They cooked together—which was a hilarious disaster—tended to details for Precious and Clyde’s wedding. And they made sweet, wonderful love.

  The other Maggie was consumed by a breath-stopping chill each time she looked at the calendar and saw the time flying by. Summer had turned into fall, school had started again and Phoenix was buzzing with the success of the ASU football team.

  They’d celebrated with a special dinner out when they’d finally reserved the honeymoon suite at the very hotel where the reception was to be held. It was perfect, they’d decided. It was decorated in good taste, had a marvelous view of the city lights, a hot tub in the bedroom area and a fireplace in the living room.

  Maggie had told Luke that it would be impossible for Precious and Clyde not to like it, while her heart had ached because the honeymoon suite would not welcome Mr. and Mrs. Luke St. John.

  Her life, Maggie thought at one point, gave a whole new meaning to the old phrase of laughing on the outside and crying on the inside.

  The seamstress at the bridal shop left message after message on Maggie’s answering machine, saying she must choose the wedding dress. Maggie created endless excuses why she couldn’t get to the shop, as she was terrified she would weep the entire time. The mere thought of selecting that gown, trying it on while knowing it really wasn’t hers, was just more than she could bear.

  Ginger and Robert returned with glowing reports of their honeymoon in Greece, and the four of them often enjoyed a night on the town. The newlyweds literally shone with happiness, and Maggie had no choice but to sigh and admit to herself that she was green with envy whenever she saw them together.

  When Luke announced that it was bad luck to set an empty rocking chair in motion, Maggie dragged him to a furniture store and gave each rocking chair a gentle push to get it going. They dissolved in laughter, apologized to the frowning saleswoman and beat a hasty retreat.

  When October marched in and Halloween costumes were featured in every store, Maggie told Luke—again—that the invitations to Precious and Clyde’s wedding had to be selected now so they could be printed, addressed and mailed.

  “Luke,” Maggie said one night as they watched a video in her tiny living room, “you keep saying you’ll contact Precious and Clyde about the wording on the invitations, but you don’t do it.”

  “I will,” he said, his attention on the television.

  “When?” she said. She really had no right to nag him because she still hadn’t chosen the wedding dress. But, of course, Luke didn’t know that. “Those invitations have to be mailed so the RSVP cards can be returned and I can coordinate the amount of food and drink for the reception.” She paused. “Are you listening to me?”

  “What?” he said, glancing over at her, then back at the screen. “Sure, I hear you. I’ll take care of it. I’ll call Precious and Clyde tomorrow…or the next day.”

  “Promise?” Maggie said.

  “Hey, would you look at that car. James Bond has the greatest wheels, I swear. No matter how many times I see these movies, I go nuts for the vehicles. Whoa. That baby can really go.”

  “Mmm,” Maggie said, narrowing her eyes.

  “If Detroit ever produced one of those, I’d be the first in line to buy it,” Luke went on.

  “Luke,” Maggie said quietly, “I’m beginning to have doubts about the validity of the Jenkins Jinx.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’d order my car painted in-your-face-red with chrome so shiny that…” Luke stopped speaking, stiffened, then snapped his head around to look at Maggie. “What? What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” she said, waving one hand in the air. “I didn’t mean to speak aloud. It’s just on my mind so much that it popped out before I realized that—”

  Luke grabbed the remote, turned off the television, then gripped Maggie’s shoulders.

  “Say it again,” he said. “Please, Maggie, say it again. You’re having doubts about… Say the words so I can hear them loud and clear. Maggie, you have no idea how much I need to hear you say those words.”

  “It has become so confusing,” she said, meeting his intense gaze. “Whenever I try to think clearly about the jinx, I feel like a hamster running around in one of those wheels and not getting anywhere.”

  “Go on,” he said, not releasing his hold on
her.

  “My mother told us about the jinx after my father left us,” Maggie said, her voice not quite steady. “I grew up believing in it, especially after we researched our family tree and… But I was talking to Janet about her marriages and for the first time in all these years she said she’s not totally convinced there is a jinx.

  “Maybe, she said, it’s just a whole slew of Jenkinses with poor judgment. Or maybe there is a jinx that forces us to make bad choices, or… Oh, I don’t know anymore. Janet feels that all it will take to prove there is no such thing as the Jenkins Jinx is for one of us to fall in love—real love, honest, true and for always love—and live happily ever after.”

  “Yes, yes. She’s right. That’s good. Great thinking,” Luke said in a rush of words. “You have a very smart sister there.”

  “She said maybe it would be one of her kids that proved the jinx to be nonsense or perhaps it might be…might be…”

  “Might be?” Luke prompted.

  “Me,” Maggie whispered.

  “Maggie, yes, it’s you,” Luke said, his heart soaring. “Maggie Jenkins, I love you so damn much. I am totally, absolutely and forever in love with you. I want to marry you, have babies with you, wake up every morning and have you be the first thing I see. My wife.”

  “Ohhh,” Maggie said, then sniffled as her eyes filled with tears.

  “Maggie, do you love me? Do you?”

  “Yes. Yes, Luke, I do, so very much. I didn’t want to fall in love with you, didn’t mean to, but I did. I’m still worried about the jinx because it’s been drummed into my head since I was a little girl. One minute I think I don’t believe in it anymore, but then I get so frightened and… I’m such a mess.

  “But, Luke, do you know what I hang on to like a life-line to give me courage? It’s you. It’s you and your superstitions. Your family has believed in those things you’ve told me for years and years, yet you’re so willing to let them go, run the risk of bad things happening because you put your shoes on wrong or forget to carry your acorn or…