Chapter Six
Six
“W hat do you mean, it’s me?” Jordan demanded. When she didn’t answer, he asked, “What’s wrong, Jill?”
“Everything,” she cried, shaking her head.
“I hurt you?”
“No,” she whispered, “no.” She sobbed quietly as she wrung her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Why do you have to do anything?”
“Because…oh, you wouldn’t understand.” Worse, she couldn’t tell him. Every time he looked at her, she became more and more convinced that Shelly had been right. Jordan Wilcox was her future.
But she couldn’t fall in love with him, because she knew what would happen to her if she did—she’d become like her mother, lonely, bitter and unhappy. If she was going to marry, she wanted a man who was safe and sensible. A man like… Ralph. Yet the thought of spending the rest of her life with Ralph produced an even deeper sense of discontent.
“I’m not an unreasonable man,” Jordan said. Then he added, “Well, generally I’m not. If there’s a problem you can tell me.”
“It’s not supposed to be a problem. According to Shelly and her aunt Milly, it’s a blessing. I know I’m talking in riddles, but…there’s no way you’d understand!”
“Try me.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”
“But it has something to do with my kissing you?”
She stared at him blankly. “No. Yes.”
“You seem rather uncertain about this. Perhaps we should try it again….”
“That isn’t necessary.” But even as she spoke, Jordan was reaching for her, pulling her onto his lap. Jill willingly surrendered to his embrace, greeting his kiss with a muffled groan of welcome, a sigh of defeat. His arms held her close, and not for the first time, Jill was stunned by the effect he had on her. It left her feeling both unnerved and overwhelmed.
“Better?” he asked in a remarkably steady voice.
Unable to answer, Jill closed her eyes, then nodded. Better, yes. And worse. Every time he touched her, it confirmed what she feared most.
“I thought so.” He seemed reassured, but that did nothing to comfort Jill. For weeks she’d played a silly game of denial. They’d met, and from that moment on, nothing had been the same.
She didn’t, couldn’t, believe in the power of the wedding dress; she scoffed at the implausibility of its legend. Yet even Mr. Howard, who’d never heard of Aunt Milly or her dress, had felt compelled to explain Jordan’s past to her, had seen Jill as his future.
She’d spent only three days with Jordan, but she knew more about him than she knew about Ralph, whom she’d been dating for months. Their day on the beach and the dinner with Andrew Howard had given her insights into Jordan’s personality. Since then Jill had found it more difficult to accept what she saw on the surface—the detached, cynical male. The man who wore his I-don’t-give-a-damn attitude like an elaborate mask.
Perhaps she understood him because he was so much like her father. Adam Morrison had lived for the excitement, the risks, of the big deal. He poured his life’s blood into each business transaction because he’d never really acknowledged the importance of family, emotion, human values.
Jordan wouldn’t, either.
Dinner was a strained affair, although Jordan made several efforts to lighten the mood. As he drove her home, Jill sensed that he wanted to say something more. Whatever it was, he left unsaid.
“Have a safe trip,” she told him when he escorted her to her door. Her heart was pounding, not with excitement, but with trepidation, wondering if he planned to kiss her again.
“I’ll call you when I get back,” he told her. And that was all.
* * *
“I have a special fondness for this place,” Shelly said as she slipped into a chair opposite Jill. They were meeting for lunch at Patrick’s, a restaurant in the mall where Jill’s branch of PayRite was located. Typically, she was ten minutes late. Marriage to Mark, who was habitually prompt, hadn’t improved Shelly’s tardiness. Jill often wondered how they managed to keep their love so strong when they were so different.
Patrick’s had played a minor role in Shelly’s romance with Mark. Jill recalled the Saturday she’d met her there for lunch, and how amused she’d been at Shelly’s crazy story of receiving the infamous wedding dress.
The way Jill felt now—frantic, frightened, confused—was exactly the way Shelly had felt then.
“So tell me everything,” Shelly said breathlessly.
“Jordan stopped by. We had dinner. He left this morning on a business trip,” she explained dispassionately. “There isn’t much to tell.”
Shelly’s hand closed around her water glass, her eyes connecting with Jill’s. “Do you remember when I first met Mark?”
“I’m not likely to forget,” Jill said, smiling despite her present mood.
“Anytime you or my mother or anyone else asked me about Mark, I always said there wasn’t anything to tell. Remember?”
“Yes.” Jill thought of how Shelly’s face would become expressionless, her tone abrupt, whenever anyone mentioned Mark’s name.
“Well, when I told you nothing was happening, I was stretching the truth,” Shelly continued. “There was plenty going on, but nothing I felt I could share. Even with you.” She raised her eyebrows. “You, my friend, have the same look I did then. A lot has taken place between you and Jordan. So much that you’re frightened out of your wits. Trust me, I know.”
“He kissed me again,” Jill admitted.
“It was better than before?”
“Worse!”
Shelly apparently found Jill’s answer humorous. She tried to hide her smile behind the menu, then lowered it to say, “Don’t count on your feelings becoming any less complicated. They won’t.”
“He’s going to be away for a few days. Thank goodness, because it gives me time to think.”
“Oh, Jill,” Shelly said with a sympathetic sigh, “I wish there was something I could say to help you. Why are you fighting this so hard?” She grinned sheepishly. “I fought it, too. Be smart, just accept it. Love isn’t really all that terrifying once you let go of your doubts.”
“Instead of talking about Jordan, why don’t we order lunch?” Jill suggested a little curtly. “I’m starved.”
“Me, too.”
The waitress arrived at their table a moment later, and Jill ordered the split-pea soup and a turkey sandwich.
“Wait a minute,” Shelly interrupted, motioning toward the waitress. She turned to Jill. “You don’t even like split-pea soup. You never order it.” She gave Jill an odd look, then turned back to the waitress. “She’ll have the clam chowder.”
“Shelly!”
The waitress wrote down the order quickly, as though she feared an argument was about to erupt.
“You’re more upset than I realized,” Shelly said when they were alone. “Ordering split-pea soup—I can’t believe it.”
“It’s soup, Shelly, not nuclear waste.” Her friend definitely had a tendency to overreact. It drove Jill crazy, but it was the very thing that made Shelly so endearing.
“I’m going to call Jordan Wilcox myself,” Shelly announced suddenly.
“You’re going to what? ” It was all Jill could do to remain in her seat.
“You heard me.”
“Shelly, no! I absolutely forbid you to discuss me with Jordan. How would you have felt if I’d called Mark?”
Shelly frowned. “I’d have been furious.”
“I will be, too, if you say so much as one word to Jordan about me.”
Shelly paused, her eyes wide with concern. “But I’m afraid you’re going to mess this up.”
Nothing to fear there—Jill already had. She reached for a package of rye crisps from the bread basket, and Shelly frowned again. That was when she remembered she wasn’t any fonder of rye crisps than she was of split-pea soup.
“Promise me you’ll stay out of it,” Jill pleaded. “Please.”
“All right,” Shelly muttered. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”
* * *
“This is a pleasant surprise,” Jill’s mother said as she opened the front door. Elaine Morrison was in her late fifties, slim and attractive.
“I thought I’d bring over your gift from Hawaii,” Jill said, following her mother into the kitchen, where Elaine poured them each a glass of iced tea. Jill set the box of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts on the counter.
“I’m glad your vacation went so well.”
Jill pulled out a bar stool and sat at the counter, trying to look relaxed when she was anything but. “I met someone while I was in Hawaii.”
Her mother paused, then smiled. “I thought you might have.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Oh, there’s a certain look about you. Now tell me how you met, what he’s like, where he’s from and what he does for a living.”
Jill laughed at the rapid-fire questions.
Elaine added slices of lemon to their tea and started across the kitchen, a new excitement in her step. Finally, after all these years, her mother was beginning to overcome the bitterness her husband’s obsession with business had created. She was finally coming to terms not only with his death but with her grief over his neglect.
Jill was relieved and delighted by the signs of her mother’s recovery, but she had to say, “Frankly, Mom, I don’t think you’ll like him.”
Her mother looked surprised. “Why ever not?”
Jill didn’t hesitate. “Because he reminds me of Daddy.”
Her mother’s face contorted with shock, and tears sprang to her eyes. “Jill, no! For the love of heaven, no.”
* * *
“I’ve been giving some thought to your suggestion,” Jill said to Ralph a few hours later. Her nerves were in turmoil. The clam chowder sat like a dead weight in the pit of her stomach, and her mother’s dire warnings had shaken her badly.
Ralph wasn’t tall and strikingly handsome like Jordan, but he was a comfortable sort of man. He made a person feel at ease. In fact, his laid-back manner was a blessed relief after the high-stress, high-energy hours she’d spent with Jordan, few though they were.
Jordan Wilcox could pull together a deal for an apartment complex before Ralph stepped out of the shower in the morning. Ralph’s idea of an exhilarating evening was doing the newspaper crossword puzzle.
Everything about Jordan was complex. Everything about Ralph was uncomplicated; he was a straightforward, honest man who’d be a good husband and a loving father.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Ralph prompted when she didn’t immediately continue.
Jill held her water glass. “You said something not long ago about the two of us giving serious consideration to making our relationship permanent and…and I wanted you to know I was… I’ve been giving some thought to that.”
Ralph didn’t reveal any emotion. He put down his hamburger, looked at her and asked casually, “Why now?”
“Uh… I’m going to be twenty-nine soon.” She managed to sound calm, although she felt anything but.
She was the biggest coward who ever lived. But what else could she do? Her mother had become nearly hysterical when Jill had told her about Jordan. Her own heart was filled with trepidation. On the one hand, there was Shelly, so confident Jordan was the man for Jill. On the other was her mother, adamant that Jill would be forever sorry if she got involved with a workaholic.
Jill was trapped in the middle, frightened and unsure.
Ralph relaxed against the red vinyl upholstery. The diner was his favorite place to eat, and he took her there every time they dined out. “So you think we should consider marriage?”
It was the subject Jill had been leading up to all evening, yet when Ralph posed the question directly, she hesitated. If only Jordan hadn’t kissed her. If only he hadn’t held her in his arms. And if only she hadn’t spoken to her mother…
“I missed you while you were away,” Ralph said, his gaze holding hers.
Jill knew this was about as close to romance as she was likely to get from Ralph. Romance was his weakest suit, dependability and steadiness his strongest. Ralph would always be there by his wife’s side. He’d make the kind of father who played catch in the backyard with his son. The kind of father who’d bring his wife and daughter pretty corsages on Easter morning. He was a rock, a fortress of permanence. She wished she could fall in love with him.
Jordan might have a talent for making millions, but all the money in the world couldn’t buy happiness.
“I missed you, too,” Jill said softly. She’d thought of Ralph, had wondered about him. A few times, anyway. Hadn’t she mailed him a postcard? Hadn’t she brought him a book on volcanoes?
“I’m glad to hear that,” Ralph said. Then, clearing his throat, he asked, “Jill Morrison, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
The question was out now, ready for her to answer. A proposal was what she’d been hinting at all evening. Now that Ralph had asked, Jill wasn’t sure what she felt. Relief? No, it wasn’t even close to that. Pleasure? Yes—in a way. But not a throw-open-the-windows-and-shout kind of joy.
Joy. The word hit her like an unexpected punch. Joy was what she’d experienced the first time Jordan had taken her in his arms. A free-flowing joy and the promise of so much more.
The promise she was rejecting.
Ralph might not be the love of her life, but he’d care for her and devote his life to her. It was enough.
“Jill?”
She tried to smile, tried to look happy and excited. Ralph deserved that much. “Yes,” she whispered, stretching her hand across the table. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
* * *
“What do you mean you’re engaged to marry Ralph?” Shelly demanded. Her voice had risen to such a high pitch that Jill held the receiver away from her ear.
“He asked me tonight and I’ve accepted.”
“You can’t do that!” her friend shrieked.
“Of course I can.”
“What about Jordan?” Shelly asked next.
“I’d already decided not to see him again.” Jill was able to keep her composure, although it wasn’t easy.
“If marrying Ralph is typical of your decisions, then I’d like to suggest you talk to a mental-health professional.”
Jill laughed despite herself. Her decision had been based on maintaining her sanity, not destroying it.
“I don’t know what’s so funny. I can’t believe you’d do something like this! What about Aunt Milly’s wedding dress? Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Don’t you care that Mark, Aunt Milly and I all felt the dress should go to you? You can’t ignore it. Something dreadful might happen.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not,” Shelly said resolutely. “You can’t reject the man destiny has chosen for you without consequences.” Shelly’s voice was solemn.
“You don’t know that Jordan’s the man,” Jill said with far more conviction than she was feeling. “We both realize a wedding dress can’t dictate who I’ll marry. The choice is mine—and I’ve chosen Ralph.”
“You’re honestly choosing Ralph over Jordan?” The question had an incredulous quality.
“Yes.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“You’re scared,” Shelly went on, “frightened half out of your wits because of everything you feel. I know, because I went through the same thing. Jill, please, think about this before you do something you’ll regret for the rest of your life.”
“I have thought about it,” she insisted. She’d thought of little else since her last encounter with Jordan. Since her talk with Shelly. Since her visit to her mother’s. She’d carefully weighed her options. Marrying Ralph seemed the best course.
“You have no intention of changing your mind, do you?” Shelly cried. “Do you expect me to stand by and do nothing while you ruin your life?”
“I’m not ruining my life. Don’t be absurd.” Her voice grew hard. “Naturally I’ll return your aunt Milly’s wedding dress and—”
“No,” Shelly groaned. “Here, talk to Mark.”
“Jill?” Mark came on the line. “What’s the problem?”
Jill didn’t want to repeat everything. She was tired and it was late and all she wanted to do was go to bed. Escape for the next eight hours and then face the world again. Jill hadn’t intended to tell Shelly and Mark her news quite so soon, but there’d been a telephone message from them when she got home. She’d decided she might as well let Shelly know about her decision. Jill wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she’d expected from her friends, but certainly not this.
“Just a minute,” Mark said next. “Shelly’s trying to tell me something.”
Although Shelly had given the phone to her husband, Jill could hear her friend’s frantic words as clearly as if she still held the receiver. Shelly was pleading with Mark to talk some sense into Jill, begging him to try because she hadn’t been able to change Jill’s mind.
“Mark,” Jill called, but apparently he didn’t hear her. “Mark,” she tried again, louder this time.
“I’m sorry, Jill,” he said politely, “but Shelly’s upset, and I’m having a hard time figuring out just what the problem is. All I can make out is that you’ve decided not to see Jordan Wilcox again.”
“I’m marrying Ralph Emery, and I don’t think he’d take kindly to my dating Jordan.”
Mark chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose he would. Frankly, I believe the decision is yours, and yours alone. I know Jordan, I’ve talked to him a couple of times and I share your concerns. I can’t picture him married.”
“He’s already married,” Jill stated unemotionally, “to his job. A wife would only get in the way.”
“That’s probably true. What about Ralph—have I met him?”
“I don’t think so,” Jill returned stiffly. “He’s a very nice man. Honest and hardworking. Shelly seems to think he’s dull, and perhaps he is in some ways, but he…cares for me. It isn’t a great love match, but we’re both aware of that.”
“Shelly thinks I’m dull, too, but that didn’t stop her from marrying me.”
Mark was so calm, so reassuring. He was exactly what Jill needed. She was so grateful she felt close to tears. “I want to do the right thing,” she said, gulping in a quick breath. Her voice wavered and she bit her lower lip, blinking rapidly.
“It’s difficult knowing what’s right sometimes, isn’t it?” Mark said quietly. “I remember how I felt the first time I met Shelly. Here was this completely bizarre woman announcing to everyone who’d listen that she refused to marry me. I hadn’t even asked—didn’t even know her name. Then we stumbled on each other a second time and a third, and finally I learned about Aunt Milly’s wedding dress.”
“What did you think when she told you?”
“That it was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard.”
“I did, too. I still do.” She wanted a husband, but not Jordan.
“I’m sure you’ll make the right decision,” Mark said confidently.
“I am, too. Thanks, Mark, I really appreciate talking to you.” The more she grew to know her friend’s husband, the more Jill realized how perfectly they suited each other. Mark brought balance into Shelly’s life, and she’d infused his with her warmth and wit. If only she, Jill, could have met someone like Mark.
No sooner had she hung up the phone than there was a loud knock on her door. Since it was late, close to eleven, Jill was surprised.
Peering through the peephole, she gasped and drew away. Jordan Wilcox.
“I thought you were in Hawaii,” she said as she opened the door.
“I was.” His eyes scanned her hungrily. “This morning I had the most incredible feeling something was wrong. I tried to call, but there wasn’t any answer.”
“I…was out for most of the day.”
He took her by the shoulders and then, before she could protest, pulled her into his arms.
“Jordan?” She’d never seen him like this, didn’t understand why he seemed so disturbed.
“I just couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong with you.”
“I’m fine.”
“I know,” he said, inhaling deeply. “Thank God you’re safe.”