Читать книгу Ready for Marriage - Debbie Macomber - Страница 6

“CAN YOU HELP US ?” Norman Summerhill asked Evan anxiously.

Mary Jo had brought both her parents. Evan was reading over the agreement her father had signed with Adison Investments. With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she noticed he was frowning. The frown deepened the longer he read.

“What’s wrong?” Mary Jo asked.

Her mother hands were clenched so tightly that her fingers were white. Financial affairs confused and upset Marianna Summerhill. From the time Marianna had married Norman, she’d been a housewife and mother, leaving the financial details of their lives to her husband.

Mary Jo was fiercely proud of her family. Her father might not be a United States senator, but he was an honest and honorable man. He’d dedicated his life to his wife and family, and worked hard through the years to provide for them. Mary Jo had been raised firmly rooted in her parents’ love for each other and for their children.

Although close to sixty, her mother remained a beautiful woman, inside and out. Mary Jo had inherited her dark hair and brown eyes and her petite five-foot-four-inch frame. But the prominent high cheek-bones and square jaw were undeniably from her father’s side of the family. Her brothers towered above her and, like her parents, were delighted their youngest sibling was a girl.

That affection was returned. Mary Jo adored her older brothers, but she knew them and their quirks and foibles well. Living with five boys—all very different personalities—had given her plenty of practice in deciphering the male psyche. Evan might have come from a rich, upper-crust family, but he was a man, and she’d been able to read him like a book from the first. She believed that her ability to see through his playboy facade was what had originally attracted her to him. That attraction had grown and blossomed until…

“Come by for Sunday dinner. We eat about three, and we’d enjoy getting to know you better,” her mother was saying. “It’d be an honor to have you at our table.”

The words cut into Mary Jo’s thoughts like a scythe through wheat. “I’m sure Evan’s too busy for that, Mother,” she blurted out.

“I appreciate the invitation,” Evan said, ignoring Mary Jo.

“You’re welcome to stop off at the house any time you like, young man,” her father added, sending his daughter a glare of disapproval.

“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind,” Evan said absently as he returned his attention to the investment papers. “If you don’t object, I’d like an attorney friend of mine to read this over. I should have an answer for you in the next week or so.”

Her father nodded. “You do whatever you think is necessary. And don’t you worry about your fee.”

“Dad, I already told you! I’ve talked to Evan about that. This is my gift to you.”

“Nonsense,” her father argued, scowling. “I was the one who was fool enough to trust this shyster. If anyone pays Evan’s fee, it’ll be me.”

“We don’t need to worry about that right now,” Evan interjected smoothly. “We’ll work out the details of my bill later.”

“That sounds fair to me.” Norman Summerhill was quick to agree, obviously eager to put the subject behind him. Her father had carried his own weight all his life and wouldn’t take kindly to Mary Jo’s accepting responsibility for this debt. She hoped she could find a means of doing so without damaging his formidable pride.

“Thank you for your time,” she said to Evan, desperate to be on her way.

“It was good to see you again, young man,” Norman said expansively, shaking hands with Evan. “No need to make yourself scarce. You’re welcome for dinner any Sunday of the year.”

“Daddy, please,” Mary Jo groaned under her breath. The last thing she wanted was to have Evan show up for Sunday dinner with her five brothers and their assorted families. He wasn’t accustomed to all the noise and chatter that invariably went on during meals. Her one dinner with his family had sufficiently pointed out the glaring differences between their upbringings.

“Before you leave,” Evan said to Mary Jo, “my brother asked me to give you this. I believe it’s from Jessica.” He handed her a sealed envelope.

“Thank you,” Mary Jo mumbled. For the better part of their meeting, he’d avoiding speaking to her. He hadn’t been rude or tactless, just businesslike and distant. At least toward her. With her parents, he’d been warm and gracious. She doubted they’d even recognized the subtle difference between how he treated them and how he treated her.

MARY JO DIDN’T OPEN the envelope until after she’d arrived back at her cozy duplex apartment. She stared at it several moments, wondering what Jessica Dryden could possibly have to say to her.

No need to guess, she decided, and tore open the envelope.

Dear Mary Jo,

I just wanted you to know how much I enjoyed meeting you. When I asked Evan why you were in to see him, he clammed right up. I should have known better—prying information out of Evan is even more difficult than it is with Damian.

From your reaction the other day, I could tell you assumed I was married to Evan. Damian and I got quite a chuckle out of that. You see, just about everyone tried to match me up with Evan, but I only had eyes for Damian. If you’re free some afternoon, give me a call. Perhaps we could have lunch.

Warmest regards,

Jessica

Jessica had written her telephone number beneath her signature.

Mary Jo couldn’t understand why Damian’s wife would seek her out. They were virtual strangers. Perhaps Jessica knew something Mary Jo didn’t—something about Evan. The only way to find out was to call.

Although Mary Jo wasn’t entirely sure she was doing the right thing, she reached for the phone.

Jessica Dryden answered almost immediately.

“Mary Jo! Oh, I’m so glad to hear from you,” she said immediately. “I wondered what you’d think about my note. I don’t usually do that sort of thing, but I was just so delighted you’d been to see Evan.”

“You said he’s mentioned me?”

“A number of times. Look, why don’t you come over one afternoon soon and we can talk? You’re not teaching right now, are you?”

“School let out a week ago,” Mary Jo concurred.

“That’s what I thought. Could you stop by next week? I’d really enjoy talking to you.”

Mary Jo hesitated. Her first introduction to Evan’s family had been a catastrophe, and she’d come away knowing their love didn’t stand a chance. A second sortie might prove equally disastrous.

“I’d like that very much,” Mary Jo found herself saying. If Evan had been talking about her, she wanted to know what he’d said.

“Great. How about next Tuesday afternoon? Come for lunch and we can sit on the patio and have a nice long chat.”

“That sounds great,” Mary Jo said.

It wasn’t until later that evening, when she was filling a croissant with a curried shrimp mixture for dinner, that Mary Jo stopped to wonder exactly why Jessica was so eager to “chat” with her.

SHE LIKED GARY . She really did. Though why she felt it was necessary to remind herself of this, she didn’t know. She didn’t even want to know.

It had been like this from the moment she’d broken off her relationship with Evan. She’d found fault with every man she’d dated. No matter how attractive he was. Or how successful. How witty, how considerate…it didn’t matter.

Gary was very nice, she repeated to herself.

Unfortunately he bored her to tears. He talked about his golf game, his bowling score and his prowess on the handball court. Never anything that was important to her. But his biggest fault, she’d realized early on in their relationship was that he wasn’t Evan.

They’d dated infrequently since the beginning of the year. To be honest, Mary Jo was beginning to think that, to Gary, her biggest attraction was her mother’s cooking. Invariably, Gary stopped by early Sunday afternoon, just as she was about to leave for her parents’ home. It’d happened three out of the past five weeks. She strongly suspected he’d been on duty at the fire hall the two weeks he’d missed.

“You look especially lovely this afternoon,” he said when she opened her front door to him now. He held out a bouquet of pink carnations, which she took with a smile, pleased by his thoughtfulness.

“Hello, Gary.”

He kissed her cheek, but it seemed perfunctory, as if he felt some display of affection was expected of him. “How’ve you been?” he muttered, easing himself into the old rocking chair next to the fireplace.

Although Mary Jo’s rooms were small, she’d thoughtfully and carefully decorated each one. The living room had an Early American look. Her brother Lonny, who did beautiful woodwork, had carved her an eagle for Christmas, which she’d hung above the fireplace. In addition to her rocking chair, she had a small sofa and an old oak chest that she’d restored herself. Her mother had crocheted an afghan for the back of the sofa in a patriotic blend of red, white and blue.

Her kitchen was little more than a wide hallway that led to a compact dining space in a window alcove. Mary Jo loved to sit there in the morning sunshine with a cup of coffee and a book.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Gary said, looking around as if seeing the room for the first time.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, first off, you don’t have to work in the summer.”

This was an old argument and Mary Jo was tired of hearing it. True, school wasn’t in session for those two and a half months, she didn’t spend them lolling on a beach. This was the first time in years that she wasn’t attending courses to upgrade her skills.

“You’ve got the time you need to fix up this place the way you want it,” he went on. “You have real decorating talent, you know. My place is a mess, but then I’m only there three or four days out of the week, if that.”

If he was hinting that he’d like her to help him decorate his place, she refused to take the bait.

“Are you going over to your parents’ this afternoon?” Gary asked cheerfully. “I don’t mean to horn in, but your family doesn’t seem to mind, and the two of us have an understanding, don’t we?”

“An understanding?” This was news to Mary Jo.

“Yeah. We’re…I don’t know, going together I guess.”

“I thought we were friends.” That was all Mary Jo intended the relationship to be.

“Just friends.” Gary’s face fell. His gaze wandered to the carnations he’d brought with him.

“When was the last time we went out on a date?” she asked, crossing her arms. “A real date.”

“You mean to the movies or something?”

“Sure.” Surveying her own memory, she could almost count one hand the number of times he’d actually spent money taking her out. The carnations were an exception.

“We went to the Red Sox game, remember?”

“That was in April,” she reminded him.

Gary frowned. “That long ago? Time certainly flies, doesn’t it?”

“It sure does.”

Gary rubbed his face. “You’re right, Mary Jo. I’ve taken you for granted, haven’t I?”

She was about to say they really didn’t have much of an understanding, after all, did they. Yet a serious relationship with Gary didn’t interest her and, difficult as it was to admit now, never had. She’d used him to block out the loneliness. She’d used him so her parents wouldn’t worry about her. They firmly believed that a woman, especially a young woman, needed a man in her life, so she’d trotted out Gary in order to keep the peace. She wasn’t exactly proud of her motives.

Gary reached for her hand. “How about a movie this afternoon?” he suggested contritely. “We’ll leave right after dinner at your parents’. We can invite anyone who wants to come along, as well. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

Gary was honestly trying. He couldn’t help it that he wasn’t Evan Dryden. The thought slipped uncensored into her mind.

“A movie sounds like a great idea,” she said firmly. She was going, and furthermore, she was determined to have a wonderful time. Just because Evan Dryden had briefly reentered her life was no reason to wallow in the impossible. He was way out of her league.

“Great.” A smile lighted his boyish face. “Let’s drive on over to your mom and dad’s place now.”

“All right,” Mary Jo said. She felt better already. Her relationship with Gary wasn’t ideal—it wasn’t even close to ideal—but he was her friend. Love and marriage had been built on a whole lot less.

Before they left the house, Gary reached for the bouquet of carnations. Mary Jo blinked in surprise, and he hesitated, looking mildly chagrined. “I thought we’d give these to your mother. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not,” she mumbled, but she did, just a little.

Gary must have realized it because he added, “Next time I’ll bring some just for you.”

“You owe me one, fellow.”

He laughed good-naturedly and with an elaborate display of courtesy, opened the car door for her.

Mary Jo slid into the seat and snapped her seat belt into place. During the brief drive to her parents’ house, less than two miles away she and Gary didn’t speak; instead, they listened companionably to part of a Red Sox game.

Her nephews and nieces were out in the huge side yard, playing a rousing game of volleyball when they arrived. Gary parked his car behind her oldest brother’s station wagon.

“I get a kick out of how much fun your family has together,” he said a bit wistfully.

“We have our share of squabbles, too.” But any disagreement was rare and quickly resolved. Three of her brothers, Jack, Rich and Lonny, were construction electricians like their father. Bill and Mark had both become mechanics and had opened a shop together. They were still struggling to get on their feet financially, but both worked hard. With time, they’d make a go of it; Mary Jo was convinced of that.

“I wonder what your mother decided to cook today,” Gary mused, and Mary Jo swore he all but licked his chops.

Briefly she wondered if Gary bothered to eat during the week, or if he stored up his appetite for Sunday dinners with her family.

“I’ve been introduced to all your brothers, haven’t I?” he asked, frowning slightly as he helped her out of the car.

Mary Jo had to think about that. He must have been. Not every brother came every Sunday, but over the course of the past few months surely Gary had met each of her five brothers.

“I don’t recognize the guy in the red sweatshirt,” he said as they moved up the walk toward the house.

Mary Jo was distracted from answering by her mother, who came rushing down the porch steps, holding out her arms as if it’d been weeks since they’d last seen each other. She wore an apron and a smile that sparkled with delight. “Mary Jo! I’m so glad you’re here.” She hugged her daughter close for a long moment, then turned toward Gary.

“How sweet,” she said, taking the bouquet of carnations and kissing his cheek.

Still smiling, Marianna gestured her attention to her daughter. “You’ll never guess who stopped by!”

It was then that Mary Jo noticed Evan walking toward them. Dressed in jeans and a red sweatshirt, he carried Lenny, her six year old nephew, tucked under one arm, and Robby, his older brother by a year, under the other. Both boys were kicking and laughing.

Evan stopped abruptly when he saw Mary Jo and Gary. The laughter drained out of his eyes.

“Hello,” Gary said, stepping forward. “You must be one of Mary Jo’s brothers. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Gary Copeland.”