The Man You'll Marry

by Debbie Macomber

  Jill knew he found such thinking preposterous. If anything, his successes should have been an inducement to his financial supporters.

  “Mr. Howard explained that he doesn’t like to deal with a man until he’s been devastated financially at least once.”

  “That makes no sense,” Jordan returned irritably.

  “Perhaps not. Since my experience in the financial world is limited to paying my bills, I wouldn’t know,” Jill admitted.

  “Who’s going to lend money to someone who’s failed?”

  “Apparently Andrew Howard,” Jill said with a grin. “He told me the man who’s lost everything is much more careful the next time around.”

  “I didn’t realize you and Howard talked business.”

  “We didn’t.” She did her best to appear nonchalant. “Mostly we discussed you.”

  This didn’t please Jordan, either. “I’d prefer to think I owe my success to hard work, determination and foresight. I certainly wouldn’t have come as far as I have without them.”

  “True enough, but—”

  “Is there always going to be a but?”

  Jill tried to hold back a laugh. Actually she was enjoying this, while her tired husband was left to suffer the indignities of her insights.

  “Well,” he said shortly, “go on, knock down my argument.”

  “Oh, I agree your intelligence and dedication have played a large role in your success, but others have worked just as hard, been just as determined and shown just as much foresight—and lost everything.”

  Jordan scowled. “My, you’re full of cheer, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t want you to put so much store in this one project. If it falls apart, so what? You’re beating yourself to death with this.” She didn’t mention what it was doing to their marriage.

  He considered her words for a few seconds, then his face tightened. “I won’t lose. I absolutely, categorically, refuse not to succeed.”

  “How much longer?” Jill asked when she could disguise the defeat and frustration she was feeling.

  He hesitated, then massaged the back of his neck as though to ease away a tiredness that stretched from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. “A week. It shouldn’t be much more than that.”

  A week. Seven days. She closed her eyes, because looking at him, seeing him this exhausted, this spent, was painful. He needed her support now, not her censure.

  “All right,” she murmured.

  “I don’t like this any better than you do.” Jordan stood and held her securely in his embrace, burying his face in the curve of her neck. “I’m a newlywed, remember. There’s no one I want to spend time with more than my wife.”

  Jill nodded, because it would have been impossible to speak.

  “I wish you hadn’t waited up for me,” he said, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into their bedroom. Without turning on the light, he settled her on the bed and lay down beside her, placing his head on her chest. Jill’s fingers idly stroked his hair.

  Words burned in her throat, the need to unburden herself, but she dared not. Jordan was exhausted. This wasn’t the right time.

  Would it ever be the right time?

  There’d been so many lonely evenings, so many empty mornings. Every night Jill went to bed alone, and only when Jordan slipped in beside her did she feel alive. Only when they were together did she feel whole. So she waited night after night for a few precious minutes, knowing they were all he had to spare.

  The even sound of Jordan’s breathing told her he’d fallen asleep. The weight on her chest was growing uncomfortable, yet she continued to stroke his hair for several minutes, unwilling to disturb his rest.

  She’d always known it would come to this; she just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

  A week. He’d promised her it would be over within a week.

  And it would be—until the next time.

  Jill awoke early the following morning, astonished to find Jordan asleep beside her. At some point during the night he’d rolled away from her and covered them both with a blanket. He hadn’t bothered to undress.

  Jill wriggled toward him and playfully kissed his ear. She knew she ought to let him sleep, but she also knew he’d be annoyed if he was late for the office.

  Slowly he opened his eyes, looking surprised to see her there with him.

  “Morning,” she whispered, with a series of tiny, nibbling kisses.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “Almost eight.” She looped her arms around his neck and smiled down at him.

  “Hmm. An indecent hour.”

  “Very indecent.”

  “My favorite time of day.” His fingers were busy unfastening the opening of her pajama top and his eyes blazed with unmistakable need.

  “Jordan,” she said breathlessly, “you’ll be late for work.”

  “I fully intend to be,” he said, directing her lips to his.

  “It’s happening already, isn’t it?” Elaine Morrison said bluntly the next Saturday. She stood in Jill’s living room, holding a china cup and saucer and staring out the window. The view of the Olympic Mountains was spectacular, the white peaks jutting against a backdrop of bright blue sky as fluffy clouds drifted past.

  Jill knew precisely what her mother was saying. She responded the only way she could—truthfully. “Yes.”

  Elaine turned, her face pale, haunted with the pain of the past, the pain she saw reflected in her daughter’s life. “I was afraid of this.”

  Until recently, Jill had found communicating with her mother difficult. After her husband’s death, Elaine had withdrawn from life, hidden herself away in her grief and regrets. In many ways, Jill had lost her mother at the same time as she had her father.

  “Mom, it’s all right,” Jill said in an attempt to reassure her. “It’s only for the next little while. Once this project’s under control everything will be different.”

  Jill knew better. She wasn’t fooling herself, and she sincerely doubted she’d be able to fool her mother.

  “I warned you,” Elaine said, walking to the white leather sofa and sitting tensely on the edge. Setting the cup and saucer on a nearby table, she turned pleading eyes to Jill. “Didn’t I tell you? The day of the wedding—”

  “Yes, Mother, you warned me.”

  “Why didn’t you listen?”

  Jill exhaled slowly, praying for patience. “I’m in love with him, just like you loved Daddy.”

  It seemed unfair to drag her father into this, her much-grieved father, but it was the only way Jill could explain.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Mother,” Jill sighed. “It’s not as though Jordan’s having an affair.”

  “He might as well be,” Elaine replied heatedly. “Here it is, Saturday afternoon and he’s working. One look at him told me he had the same drive and ambition, the same need for power, as your father.”

  “Mother, please…It isn’t like that with Jordan.”

  The older woman’s eyes were infinitely sad as she gazed at her daughter. “Don’t count on that, Jill. Just don’t count on it.”

  Her mother’s visit had unsettled Jill. Afterward, she tried to relax with a book, but couldn’t concentrate. The phone rang at six, just as it had every night that week. One of Jordan’s assistants had called to let her know he wouldn’t be home for dinner.

  One ring.

  Walking over to the phone, Jill stood directly in front of it, but didn’t pick up the receiver.

  Two rings.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she flexed her fingers. Twice in the past couple of weeks, Jordan had phoned himself. Maybe he’d be on the other end of the line, inviting her to join him for dinner. Maybe he was phoning to tell her he’d unscrambled the entire mess and he’d be home within the next half hour. Perhaps he was calling to suggest they take a few days off and vacation somewhere exotic, just the two of them.

  Three rings.

  Jill c
ould feel her pulse throbbing at the base of her throat. But she didn’t answer.

  Four rings.

  Five rings.

  The phone went silent.

  Her entire body was trembling when she turned away and walked into the bedroom. She sat on the bed and covered her face with both hands.

  The phone began to ring again, the sound reverberating loudly through the apartment. Jill slapped her hands over her ears, unable to bear it. Each ring tormented her, pretending to offer hope when there was none. It wouldn’t be Jordan, but his assistant, and his message would be the same one he’d relayed every night that week.

  Making a rapid decision, Jill got her jacket and purse and hurried toward the penthouse elevator, purposely leaving her cell phone behind.

  Not having any particular destination, she wandered downtown until she passed a movie theater and decided to go in. The movie wasn’t one that really interested her, but she bought a ticket, anyway, willing to subject herself to a B-grade comedy if it meant she could escape for a couple of hours.

  The movie actually turned out to be quite entertaining. The plot was ridiculous, but there were enough humorous moments to make her laugh. And if Jill had ever needed some comic relief, it was now.

  On impulse she stopped at a deli and picked up a couple of sandwiches, then flagged down a taxi. Before she could change her mind, she gave the driver the address of Jordan’s office building.

  She had a bit of trouble convincing the security guard to admit her, but eventually, after the guard talked to Jordan, she was allowed inside.

  “Jill,” he snapped when she stepped off the elevator, “where have you been?”

  “It’s good to see you, too,” she said, ignoring the irritation in his voice. She kissed his cheek, then walked casually past him.

  “Where were you?”

  “I went out to a movie,” she said, strolling into his office. His desk, a large mahogany one, was littered with folders and papers. She noted dryly that he was alone. Everyone else was gone, but he hadn’t afforded himself the same luxury.

  “You were at a movie?”

  She didn’t answer. “I thought you might be hungry,” she said, neatly stacking a pile of folders in order to clear one small corner of his desk. “I went to Griffin’s and bought us both something to eat.”

  “I ate earlier.”

  “Oh.” So much for that brilliant idea. “Unfortunately, I didn’t.” She plopped herself down in the comfortable leather chair and pulled a turkey-on-rye from the sack, along with a cup of coffee, setting both on the space she’d cleared.

  Jordan looked as though he wasn’t sure what to do with her. He leaned over the desk and shoved several files to one side.

  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

  “Of course not,” he answered dryly. “I was staying late for the fun of it.”

  “There certainly isn’t any reason to hurry home,” she returned just as dryly.

  Jordan rubbed his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Jill. These past few weeks have been hard on you, haven’t they?”

  He moved behind her and grasped her shoulders. His touch had always had a calming effect on Jill, but she wanted to fight it, wanted to fight her weakness for him.

  “Jill,” Jordan whispered. “Let’s go home.” He bent down and kissed the side of her neck. A shiver raced through her body and Jill breathed deeply, placing her hands over his.

  “Home,” she repeated softly, as if it was the most beautiful word in the English language.

  “Jill!” Shelly’s eyes widened when she opened the front door one evening a few weeks later. “What’s wrong?”

  “Wrong,” Jill repeated numbly.

  “You look awful.”

  “How kind of you to point it out.”

  “I’ve got it!” Shelly said excitedly. “You’re pregnant, too.”

  “Unfortunately, no,” she said, passing Shelly and walking into the kitchen. She took a clean mug from the dishwasher and poured herself a cup of coffee. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

  “Rotten,” Shelly admitted, then added with a smile, “Wonderful.”

  Jill pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. If she spent another evening alone, she was going to go crazy. She probably should have phoned Shelly first rather than dropping in unannounced, but driving over here had given her an excuse to leave the penthouse. This evening she badly needed an excuse. Anything to get away. Anything to escape the loneliness. Funny, she’d lived by herself for years, yet she’d never felt so empty, so alone, as she had in the past two months. Even the conversation with Andrew Howard earlier in the evening had only momentarily lifted her spirits.

  “Where’s Mark?”

  Shelly grinned. “You won’t believe it if I tell you.”

  “Tell me.”

  “He’s taking a carpentry class.”

  “Carpentry? Mark?”

  Shelly’s grin broadened. “He wants to make a cradle for the baby. He’s so sweet I can hardly stand it. You know Mark, he’s absolutely useless when it comes to anything practical. Give him a few numbers and he’s a whiz kid, but when he has to change a lightbulb, he needs an instruction manual. I love him dearly, but when he told me he was going to build a cradle for the baby, I couldn’t help it, I laughed.”

  “Shelly!”

  “I know. It was a rotten thing to do, so Mark’s out there proving how wrong I am. This is his first night, and I just hope the instructor doesn’t kick him out of the class.”

  Despite her unhappiness, Jill smiled. It felt good to be around Shelly, to laugh again, to have a reason to laugh.

  “I haven’t talked to you in ages,” Shelly remarked. “But then I shouldn’t expect to, should I? You and Jordan are still on your honeymoon, aren’t you?”

  Tears sprang instantly to Jill’s eyes, blurring her vision. “Yes,” she lied, looking away, praying that Shelly, who was so happy in her own marriage, wouldn’t notice how miserable Jill was in hers.

  “Oh, before I forget,” Shelly said excitedly, “I heard from Aunt Milly.”

  “What did she have to say?”

  “She asked me to thank you for your letter, telling her about meeting Jordan and everything. She loves a good romance. Then she said something odd.”

  “Oh?”

  “She felt the dress was meant to be worn one more time.”

  “Again? By whom?”

  Shelly leaned forward. “You and Jordan were too wrapped up in each other on your wedding day to notice, but your mother and Mr. Howard got along famously. Milly wouldn’t have known that, of course, but…it’s obviously meant to be.”

  “My mother.” Now that she recalled her conversation with Andrew at the wedding, it made sense. In the weeks since their return from Hawaii, she’d forgotten about it. He’d phoned Jill twice, but he hadn’t mentioned Elaine, nor had her mother mentioned him.

  “What do you think?”

  “My mother and Mr. Howard?” Jill experienced a feeling of rightness.

  “Isn’t that incredible?” Shelly positively beamed. Until recently—the arrival of the wedding dress, to be exact—Jill hadn’t realized what a complete romantic her friend was.

  “But Mom hasn’t said a word.”

  “Did you expect her to?”

  Jill shrugged. Shelly was right; Elaine would approach romance and remarriage with extreme caution.

  “Wouldn’t it be fabulous if your mother ended up wearing the dress?”

  Jill nodded and, placing her fingertips to her temples, closed her eyes. “A vision’s coming to me now….”

  Shelly laughed.

  “I think we should call my mom and tell her that we both had a clear vision of her standing in the dress next to a distinguished-looking older man.”

  Once again, Shelly giggled. “Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.” She sighed contentedly. “The dress definitely belongs with your mother. We’ll have to do something about that soon.”

 
; Jill pretended her tears were ones of mirth and dashed them away with the back of one hand.

  But the amusement slowly faded from Shelly’s eyes. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or are you going to make me force it out of you?”

  “I—I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. Don’t forget I know you. You’ve been my best friend for years. You wouldn’t be here if something wasn’t wrong.”

  “It’s that crazy wedding dress again,” Jill confessed.

  “The wedding dress?”

  “I should never have worn it.”

  “Jill!” Shelly exclaimed, then frowned. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “It clouded my judgment. I was always the romantic one, remember? Always a sucker for a good love story. When Milly first mailed you the dress, I thought it was the neatest thing to happen since low-fat ice cream.”

  “Not true! Remember how you persuaded me—”

  “I know what I said,” Jill interrupted. “But deep down, I could hardly wait to see what happened. When you and Mark decided to marry, I was thrilled. Later, after I arrived in Hawaii and you had the dress delivered to me, I kind of allowed myself to play along with the fantasy. I’ve wanted to get married for a long time. I’d like to have children.”

  “Jill,” Shelly said, looking puzzled, “I’m not sure I follow you.”

  “I think I might even have felt a little…jealous that you got married before I did. I was the one who wanted a husband, not you, and yet here you were, so much in love. Somehow it just didn’t seem fair.” The tears slipped down her cheeks and she absently brushed them away.

  “But you’re married now and Jordan’s crazy about you.”

  “He was for about a week, but that’s worn off.”

  “He loves you!”

  “Yes, I suppose in his own way he does.” Jill didn’t have the strength to argue. “But not enough.”

  “Not enough?”

  “It’s too hard to explain,” she said. “I came over to tell you I’ve made a decision.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep herself from sobbing, “I’ve decided to leave Jordan.”