“Just remember to limp on the same foot,” Cathy said, ignoring Jessica’s question and looking a bit worried. “This is just the type of thing you’d forget. It might be a good idea if you put a mark on the top of your shoe so you don’t goof up.”
Jessica held up her hands. “Cathy, have you OD’d on too much sugar or something? This is the craziest thing you’ve ever suggested!”
“Trust me,” Cathy said impatiently. “I’m in theater—I know what I’m doing.”
“Your self-confidence doesn’t reassure me in the least.”
“It should. I know about these things.”
“Would it be too much to share the logic of your plan with me?”
“Not at all.” Cathy’s step was jaunty as she walked over to the sofa, dropped down and crossed her legs. “Sympathy. We want Damian to think you’ve hurt yourself—a twisted ankle, a trick knee, that sort of thing. If he cares about you half as much as I believe, he won’t be able to stand by and do nothing. He’ll come to your aid, and the minute he touches you, he won’t be able to hide how he feels.” She stopped abruptly. “Be warned, though. You should be prepared.”
“For what?”
“He might just explode at you. Anger in a man is far more complicated than it is with us women. He’ll think you aren’t taking care of yourself, and he’ll feel responsible for that. Men do that kind of thing, you know. He might even decide to blame Evan, so make sure you take that into account.”
“Of course Damian’ll get angry!” Jessica cried. “And he’ll have every right to be mad once he discovers I’m faking an injury to gain his sympathy.”
“Don’t let him know that part,” Cathy said simply.
“Cathy,” Jessica said on the end of a long sigh. “I appreciate your efforts, I really do, but I can’t pretend to be hurt. First of all, Damian would know in an instant. I’m not nearly as good an actress as you, and he’d figure out my ploy in no time. You seem to have forgotten Damian’s an experienced attorney.”
Cathy frowned, chewing on her lower lip as she thought. “Okay,” she said after a while. “Forget the limp. The only other thing I can suggest is forthright honesty. You’d be amazed at how well it works sometimes. This might just be one of those times.”
“As it happens, I couldn’t agree with you more,” Jessica said. “This whole situation is preposterous. I’m not any good at charades. I’d like to help Evan, but not at the expense of my emotional well-being.”
“Now you’re talking.” Cathy slid to the edge of the cushion. “What are you going to say to Damian?”
“I…don’t know yet.” A heaviness settled on her shoulders at the thought. “You know what my biggest fear is? That Damian will smile fondly at me and tell me how flattered and honored he is by my little confession.”
“With sadness echoing in his voice,” Cathy added, demonstrating her usual flair for the dramatic.
“Right. Then he’ll sigh and add that unfortunately he doesn’t share my feelings.”
“That sounds just like a man,” Cathy agreed. “Naturally he’ll lie through his teeth, because he’s being noble for his brother’s sake. Just don’t listen to him. Trust me, Jess, this guy loves you.”
Jessica wished with all her heart that it was true. She looked over to her friend, realizing how much she treasured Cathy’s support, and gave her a thumbs-up. Cathy grinned and returned the gesture.
EVAN WAS IN HIS OFFICE working when Jessica arrived Monday morning. “Good morning,” he called out cheerfully. “I was hoping it was you.”
“Would you like me to put on a pot of coffee?” she asked. Then she glanced toward the machine and noticed Evan had already done so.
He wandered out of his office, mug in hand, and sat on the corner of her desk, one leg swinging like a pendulum. He smiled down on her, his eyes twinkling. “Are you rested and ready to tackle the world?”
Jessica smiled. That didn’t describe her even on her best Monday morning. “Not quite. Give me until Wednesday or Thursday for that.”
“Then this should help brighten your day,” he said casually, withdrawing two tickets from the inside pocket of his jacket and handing them to her. Jessica read the tickets and gasped. “Two box seats for the Red Sox game this evening!”
“I thought you might enjoy baseball.”
“I love the Red Sox.”
“So your mother told me. Be prepared, Jessica, my lovely, I’m planning to sweep you off your feet.”
Her gaze shot up to his. He was sweeping her off her feet all right, but she didn’t like where she was landing. She’d awakened that morning determined to resolve this matter between her and the Dryden brothers once and for all, only to be thwarted at the first turn. As if things weren’t bad enough, Evan had been conferring with her mother, learning what he could about her.
“Evan, we need to talk,” she said, keeping her gaze lowered. All the way into the office she’d practiced what she intended to say.
“I can’t now, Jess. Sorry. I’m going to be in court all day with the Porter case. But don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of time for talking later. I’ll come by for you at six-thirty, all right?”
“All right,” she muttered, managing a weak smile.
By the time Evan arrived to pick her up that evening, Jessica was determined to have her say—after the game, she decided, when they were afforded some privacy.
Evan was determined, as well, only his determination was to lay on the charm. Their seats were situated directly behind home plate and their view was excellent.
They downed steaming hot dogs, salty peanuts and a glass of draft beer each. Evan was more relaxed than she’d seen him in a long while, cheering on his team and shouting at the umpire. When the Red Sox scored a home run, he placed his fingers in his mouth and let loose with a piercing whistle. In all the years she’d spied on Evan and his brother, she couldn’t remember him once whistling like that.
“My mother would’ve had my hide,” he explained when she asked. “Whistling isn’t proper behavior,” he said, sounding so much like Lois Dryden that Jessica laughed.
“When did that ever stop you?” she teased.
“I found that my yen to whistle was the one thing Dad wouldn’t tolerate, either,” Evan said, as though cheated out of a normal childhood.
Jessica was amazed. She’d assumed that Evan, who’d always been the fair-haired boy, had gotten away with everything.
In the seventh-inning stretch, Evan reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. She’d always liked Evan and found it impossible to be irritated with him for any length of time. This was his gift, Jessica realized, what his father had referred to during their talk at the fund-raising picnic. Evan was a born leader. People had always been drawn to him. He’d always been accepted, admired and highly regarded. When uncomfortable situations arose, they viewed him as a problem solver.
Suddenly Jessica felt a change in him. He let her hand slip from his grasp. He stiffened and went utterly still. He gasped, and then seemed to stop breathing altogether.
“Evan?”
His smile was decidedly forced. At that moment the crowd roared and fans got to their feet. Jessica hadn’t a clue what had happened in the play. Her eyes and mind were on Evan.
“What’s wrong?” she asked when the noise died down.
“Nothing.” He attempted to convince her with a smile, but failed. Something was very wrong, indeed, and she was determined to find out what.
“Come on,” she said, standing and not waiting for him. “We’re leaving.”
“Jessica, no, it’s all right. I’m fine.”
“You’re not, and don’t even try to tell me otherwise, because I know better.”
“It’s nothing,” he said once more, defensively.
She ignored him, gathered her things and left the box. He had no alternative but to follow her.
“Has anyone ever told you what a stubborn woman you are?” he muttered, racing after her. Their steps echoed again
st the concrete steps as they made their way out of the stadium. Every now and again they could hear shouts and cheers coming from inside. A couple of times Evan glanced regretfully over his shoulder.
“All right, tell me what happened to you in there,” Jessica demanded, as they neared the parking lot.
“It was nothing.”
“If you say ‘nothing’ again, I’m going to scream. Now, who’d you see?” But she already knew the answer. Only one person would have evoked such a pain-filled response in Evan, and that was the woman he’d loved and lost.
“What makes you think I saw anyone?” Evan tossed right back at her, irritated now and not bothering to disguise it.
“Was it Mary Jo?”
He stopped so abruptly she’d taken half a dozen steps before she realized he wasn’t at her side.
“Who told you about Mary Jo?” His voice was hoarse.
“No one yet, but you’re about to.”
“Sorry, Jess, but—”
“Now listen here, Evan Dryden, you need to get this off your chest once and for all. You’ve nursed the pain she caused you long enough. It’s time to let it go. Past time!” Jessica tucked her arm in the crook of his elbow as they wove their way toward his car.
He was silent, his mood dark and brooding by the time they arrived at Jessica’s apartment. She wasn’t sure if she was helping matters by insisting he tell her about this woman he’d once loved. She feared her insistence might well rip open a half-healed wound, but she also knew he couldn’t hold this inside any longer.
Jessica led the way into her kitchen, turned on the light and brewed a pot of coffee. Evan sat down, but grew restless almost immediately and stood, prowling about her small apartment.
Soon Jessica was sitting in her favorite chair, watching Evan pace. She didn’t pressure him to talk, didn’t try to prompt him. When he was ready, he’d tell her what she wanted to know.
“We met by accident,” he said, his voice low and intense, “although I’ve wondered since if it really was.”
“You mean you think she arranged it?”
Evan’s eyes widened with surprise. “No…not that. I was thinking that there’s little in life that really is an accident.”
“I see,” Jessica murmured.
“I was at the beach with a few friends of mine. We’d played volleyball and had a few beers and were enjoying ourselves—taking a real break from the grind of the office. We soaked up sunshine and laughter and got rid of a lot of pent-up energy.”
He stopped moving and turned to face her. “Most of my friends had left and I was winding down by taking a walk along the beach, and that’s when I met Mary Jo. She was walking her dog and good old Fighto—bad pun, eh?—anyhow, he got loose. She was chasing him down the beach and, being the heroic kind of guy I am, I caught the leash for her. She stopped to thank me and we got to talking. She’s small and pretty with big brown eyes that…Well, none of that matters now.”
“You liked her right away?”
Evan nodded. “There was a freshness about her, an enthusiasm that bubbled over. I knew immediately that I wanted to know her better, so I asked her out to dinner. It threw me for a loop when she refused.”
That must have been something of a novelty, Jessica mused. “Did she give you a reason?”
“Several, as a matter of fact, but I was able to talk her out of her objections. She had the most marvelous laugh, and I found myself saying the most ridiculous things, just so I could hear it. Being with Mary Jo made me want to laugh myself. It was the most exhilarating day I’d had in years.”
“She did go out with you, though?”
“Not exactly.” Caught in the memories, Evan didn’t seem inclined to say anything more for a minute. Jessica watched silently as the emotions crossed his face. First she saw his eyes light up with the recollection, followed by a pain so deep she yearned to reach out and take his hand. The small movements of his mouth were telling, too. It quivered when he first mentioned meeting Mary Jo, as if that first conversation served to amuse him still. But a moment later, the corners sank as his pain took hold. Jessica longed to reassure him, but knew Evan wouldn’t have appreciated it.
“As it happened,” Evan continued at last, his tone wistful, “I spent the rest of the day and nearly all of the night with Mary Jo. We built a fire on the beach and talked until morning.
“We started dating regularly after that. I found her refreshing and fun. Our lives were so different. Mary Jo was the youngest of a family of six. She’s the only girl. I met her family one Sunday, and her mother insisted I stay for dinner. I’d never seen such a spread in all my life. There were kids running all over the place. Several of Mary Jo’s sisters-in-law were pregnant at the time, as well. I’ve never known such a family, the joking and the teasing and fun. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got a great family myself, but Mary Jo’s is different. I really loved being with them.”
“I’m sure they felt the same way about you.”
He shrugged, his look doubtful. “I’d like to think so.”
“What happened next?” Jessica prompted when he didn’t immediately continue. She was eager now for the details.
“I knew I was going to fall in love with her that first day on the beach,” he said, his voice so low it was a strain to distinguish the words. “Love isn’t something I take lightly, but it hit me then—and I knew.”
“I know what you mean,” Jessica offered. She felt the same way about Damian.
“After I met her parents, I realized how much I wanted to marry her, how much I wanted us to have five or six children of our own. The Summerhills’ home was full of love and I wanted that kind of happy free environment for my own children someday.”
“Mary Jo sounds like a very special woman,” Jessica said quietly.
“She is,” Evan whispered softly. “Special enough to marry.”
“You asked her to be your wife, didn’t you?”
He gave an odd smile, one that was a blend of amusement and pain. “Yes. Afterward I took her to meet my parents. Mary Jo was intimidated by my family’s wealth—I realized that from the beginning. Who wouldn’t be, seeing Whispering Willows for the first time. My parents had some doubts about our being suited, but once Mom and Dad met Mary Jo, they changed their minds.”
“I don’t remember hearing about the engagement,” Jessica said.
“I wanted to give her a diamond, but she preferred a pearl ring, instead. She’d recently completed her student teaching and been hired as a first-grade teacher. She wanted to delay making a formal announcement until she’d settled in to her job, but more importantly until after her parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary celebration that October.
“I wasn’t keen on waiting,” Evan confessed, “but I agreed, because, well, because I was willing to do whatever Mary Jo wanted.” He paused and drew a deep breath, holding it a moment as if he dreaded continuing. “I first suspected something was wrong the first part of October. She kept finding excuses why we couldn’t see one another. In the beginning I accepted them—I was busy myself—and although I missed her, I didn’t press the issue. I didn’t like it, mind you, but I understood how busy she was with school and her family obligations. A couple of times I showed up at her parents’ house. They seemed glad to see me, and her mother obviously assumed I was starving and made me stay for dinner.” He smiled.
“They sound like wonderful people.”
Jessica didn’t think Evan heard her. “When Mary Jo mailed me back the ring, I was stunned. I’ve had some surprises in my life, both pleasant and unpleasant, but none that have shocked me more.”
Jessica felt angry at Mary Jo for not having the courage to confront Evan face-to-face. If she wanted to break the engagement, even an informal one, then the least she could have done was have the consideration to tell him in person. Mailing Evan the ring was cowardly and cruel.
“So,” Evan continued, “I drove over to her apartment in a fury.”
“You had every r
ight to be furious.”
He shook his head. “I should have waited until I’d cooled down. I wish with everything in me that I had.”
Life was filled with regrets, Jessica thought. She’d been carrying around a fair share of her own, especially in the past few weeks.
“When I confronted her, Mary Jo told me there was someone else,” he whispered. “I didn’t believe her at first. I refused to entertain the thought that a woman as fundamentally honest as Mary Jo would see another man behind my back. It didn’t tally in my mind—but I was wrong.” His voice dwindled to a whisper. “Apparently they met at the school where she teaches. He’s a teacher, too. The agony of being engaged to me and in love with someone else must have torn her apart.”
Jessica dropped her gaze for fear he would read what was in her eyes. She wasn’t engaged to Evan, but she continued to see him when she was in love with Damian. While Evan spoke, Jessica had been casting mental stones at Mary Jo, when she was guilty of essentially the same thing.
“You saw her tonight at the ball game?” Jessica gently prodded.
Evan nodded. “She was with him…at least I assume it was him.” The pain was back in his eyes, and Jessica felt the urge to weep. For Evan, yes, but for herself, as well. What a couple they made, each in love with someone else, fighting hard to do the right thing and making themselves miserable in the process.
“Mary Jo’s a special woman,” Evan whispered. “The man who marries her is a lucky man…” He paused again, and that odd smile, the one of blended joy and pain returned. “She’ll be a wonderful wife and mother.”
“Under the circumstances, that’s a generous thing to say.”
“You don’t know Mary Jo, or you’d think the same thing yourself. In the months since we parted, I’ve come to realize that my ego played a substantial role in all this. Mary Jo was the first woman to break off a relationship with me.” He smiled as he said it, as though it had served him right after all these years. “I guess I’d gotten a bit cocky.”
“We’re all guilty of that in one form or another,” she offered.
He looked at Jessica then, and his gaze sobered. “I’ve ruined our evening, haven’t I?”