The First Man You Meet

‘‘Hello.’’ It hadn’t dawned on her until precisely that moment that the caller might well be her mother, wanting to bring over a man for her to meet. Any man her mother introduced would only add to the growing nightmare, but—

‘‘Shelly, it’s Jill. Are you all right? You sound…a bit strange.’’

‘‘Jill.’’ Shelly was so relieved that her knees went weak. ‘‘Thank heaven it’s you.’’

‘‘What’s wrong?’’

Shelly hardly knew where to begin. ‘‘My aunt Milly’s wedding dress just arrived. I realize that won’t mean anything to you unless you’ve heard the family legend about my aunt Milly and uncle John.’’

‘‘I haven’t.’’

‘‘Of course you haven’t, otherwise you’d understand what I’m going through,’’ Shelly snapped. She immediately felt guilty for being short-tempered with her best friend. Making an effort to compose herself, she explained, ‘‘I’ve just been mailed a wedding dress—one that’s been in my family for nearly fifty years—with the clear understanding that I’ll be wearing it myself soon.’’

‘‘I didn’t even realize you were dating anyone special.’’ Jill hadn’t managed to disguise the hurt in her voice.

‘‘I’m not getting married. If anyone should know that, it’s you.’’

‘‘Then your aunt simply intends you to wear it when you do get married.’’

‘‘There’s far more to it than that,’’ Shelly cried. ‘‘Listen. Aunt Milly—who’s really my mother’s aunt, a few years younger than my grandmother—became an attorney just after the Second World War. She worked hard to earn her law degree and had decided to dedicate her life to her career.’’

‘‘In other words, she’d planned never to marry.’’

‘‘Precisely.’’

‘‘But apparently she did.’’

‘‘Yes, and the story of how that happened has been in the family for years. It seems that Aunt Milly had all her clothes professionally made. As the story goes, she took some lovely white material to an old Scottish woman who had a reputation as the best seamstress around. Milly needed an evening dress for some formal event that was coming up—business related, of course. The woman took her measurements and told her the dress would be finished within the week.’’

‘‘And?’’ Jill prompted when Shelly hesitated.

This was the part of the tale that distressed her the most. ‘‘And…when Milly returned for the dress the old woman sat her down with a cup of tea.’’

‘‘The dress wasn’t ready?’’

‘‘Oh, it was ready, all right, only it wasn’t the dress Aunt Milly had ordered. The Scottish woman explained she was gifted with the ‘sight.’’’

‘‘She was clairvoyant?’’

‘‘So she claimed,’’ Shelly said, breathing in deeply. ‘‘The old woman told my aunt that when she began the dress a vision came to her. A clear vision that involved Milly. This vision apparently showed Milly getting married. The old woman was so convinced of it that she turned what was supposed to be a simple evening dress into an elegant wedding gown, with layers of satin and lace and lots of pearls.’’

‘‘It sounds beautiful,’’ Jill said with a sigh.

‘‘Of course it’s beautiful—but don’t you see?’’

‘‘See what?’’

It was all Shelly could do not to groan with frustration. ‘‘The woman insisted that my aunt Milly, who’d dedicated herself to her career, would marry within the year. It happened, too, just the way the seamstress said it would, right down to the last detail.’’

Jill sighed again. ‘‘That’s the most romantic story I’ve heard in ages.’’

‘‘It isn’t romance,’’ Shelly argued, ‘‘it’s fate interrupting one’s life! It’s being a…pawn in the game of life! I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve grown up hearing this story. It was as though my aunt Milly didn’t have any choice in the matter.’’

‘‘And your aunt Milly mailed you the dress?’’

‘‘Yes,’’ Shelly wailed. ‘‘Now do you understand why I’m upset?’’

‘‘Frankly, no. Come on, Shelly, it’s just an old dress. You’re overreacting. You make it sound as if you’re destined to marry the next man you meet.’’

Shelly gasped audibly. She couldn’t help herself. ‘‘How’d you know?’’ she whispered.

‘‘Know what?’’

‘‘That’s exactly what happened to Aunt Milly. That’s part of the legend. She tried to refuse the dress, but the seamstress wouldn’t take it back, nor would she accept payment. When Aunt Milly left the dress shop, she had car problems and needed a mechanic. My uncle John was that mechanic. And Aunt Milly married him. She married the first man she met, just like the seamstress said.’’

Chapter Two

‘‘SHELLY, THAT doesn’t mean you’re going to marry the next man you meet,’’ Jill stated calmly, far too calmly to suit Shelly.

Perhaps Jill didn’t recognize a crisis when she heard about one. They were talking about destiny here. Predestination. Fate. Okay, maybe, just maybe, she was being a bit melodramatic, but after the ghastly day she’d had, who could blame her?

‘‘Aunt Milly came right out and said I’m going to get married soon,’’ Shelly explained. ‘‘The family legend says that the first man you meet when you get the dress is the man you’ll marry.’’

‘‘It’s just coincidence,’’ Jill reassured her. ‘‘Your aunt probably would have met her husband without the dress. It would’ve happened anyway. And don’t forget, she’s an old woman now,’’ Jill continued soothingly. ‘‘I know this wonderful old lady who comes into the pharmacy every few weeks and she always insists I’m going to get married soon. I smile and nod and fill her prescription. She means well, and I’m sure your aunt Milly does, too. She just wants you to be happy, the way she was. But I think it’s a mistake for you to take any of this prediction nonsense seriously.’’

Shelly exhaled sharply. Jill was right; Aunt Milly was a sweetheart, who had Shelly’s happiness at heart. She’d had a long, blissful marriage herself and wanted the same for her great-niece. But Shelly had a career. She had plans and goals, none of which included meeting and marrying a stranger.

The story of Aunt Milly’s wedding dress had been handed down from one generation to the next. Shelly had first heard it as a child and had loved it. In her young romantic heart, she’d ranked the story of her aunt Milly and uncle John with her favorite fairy tales of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, barely able to distinguish truth from fantasy. However, she was an adult now. Her heart and her life weren’t going to be ruled by something as whimsical as a ‘‘magical’’ wedding dress or a fanciful legend.

‘‘You’re absolutely right,’’ Shelly announced emphatically. ‘‘This whole thing is ridiculous. Just because this wedding dress supposedly conjured up a husband for my aunt Milly fifty years ago doesn’t mean it’s going to do the same thing for me, no matter what she claims.’’

‘‘Well, thank goodness you’re finally being sensible about this.’’

‘‘No one bothered to ask me what I thought before shipping off a so-called magic wedding gown. I don’t want to marry just yet, so I certainly don’t need the dress. It was a nice gesture, but unnecessary.’’

‘‘Exactly,’’ Jill agreed.

‘‘I’m not interested in playing déjà voodoo.’’ She paused to laugh at her own joke.

Jill chuckled, too. ‘‘I wouldn’t be, either.’’

Shelly felt greatly relieved and sighed expressively. The tight muscles along the back of her neck began to relax. Jill was, as usual, full of sound, practical advice. Aunt Milly was a wonderful old lady, and the legend was a delightful bit of family lore, but it would be laughable to take any of this seriously.

‘‘How about meeting me for lunch tomorrow?’’ Jill suggested. ‘‘It’s been ages since we got together.’’

‘‘That sounds good to me,’’ Shelly said eagerly. Although they’d been good friends since college, it took some effort on both their parts these days to make time in their hectic lives to see each other. ‘‘When and where?’’

‘‘How about the mall?’’ Jill asked. ‘‘That would be easiest for me since I’m scheduled to work tomorrow. I can get off a few minutes before twelve.’’