‘‘It seems Janice can't attend, either.''
Hearing the other woman's name, the woman Mark loved, had a curious and unexpected effect on Shelly. Her heart sank, and she felt a sharp pang of disappointment. She rebounded quickly, however, forcing a lightness into her voice, a blitheness she didn't feel. ‘‘Listen, there's no need for you to miss the play. I'll call the ticket office and see about an exchange.''
‘‘No, I will,'' Mark offered.
‘‘That's ridiculous. Jill really wanted to see this play and-''
‘‘Would it really be so terrible if we both decided to attend the same performance?''
‘‘Uh … '' The question caught Shelly unprepared. Mark was the one who'd suggested they avoid each other.
‘‘What could it possibly hurt? You have your ticket and I have mine. It'd be absurd to let them go to waste because we're afraid of seeing each other again, don't you think?''
Forming a single, coherent thought seemed beyond Shelly at that moment. After her long talk with Jill the day before, followed by the pep talk she'd given herself, she'd recovered a degree of composure. Now, all of a sudden, she wasn't sure of anything.
‘‘I don't think it should matter,'' she said finally, although it did matter, greatly.
‘‘Good. Enjoy the play.''
‘‘You, too.''
The theater was within walking distance of her apartment building, and Shelly left as soon as she'd finished talking to Mark. He was right. Just because they each had tickets to the same play was no reason for either of them to be penalized.
So Mark was going to see Street Suite. It wasn't the type of play she would have thought he'd enjoy. But the man was full of surprises. Riding mopeds on the beach, kissing so spectacularly, and now this …
Shelly's mind was full of Mark as she hurried down the steep hill on Cherry Street. The theater was only a block away when she saw him. Her pulse soared and she wasn't sure if she should smile and wave or simply ignore him.
She didn't need to do either. He stood on the sidewalk, waiting for her.
‘‘You're late,'' he said, glancing at his watch. ‘‘But then you traditionally are.'' His grin was wide and welcoming. ‘‘I couldn't see any reason not to watch the play together,'' he went on. ‘‘What do you say?''
‘‘You're sure?''
‘‘Positive.'' He offered her his arm, and she reflected that it was the kind of old-fashioned courtesy, the kind of gentlemanly gesture, she'd expected from Mark.
The usher seated them and smiled constantly as if to say they were a handsome couple. Shelly was terribly tempted to explain that Mark was engaged to someone else; luckily she managed to hold her tongue. Minutes after they'd settled into their seats, the curtain rose.
The play, a clever satire about urban life, was as good as the reviews claimed, and Shelly enjoyed herself thoroughly. Throughout the performance, however, she was all too aware of Mark sitting next to her. She found herself wondering if he was equally aware of her. She also found herself wondering how long it would be before they ‘‘bumped'' into each other again-and hoped it was soon.
By the end of the play Shelly felt inspired and full of enthusiasm, eager to start a new project of her own. As she and Mark left the theater, she talked excitedly about her idea for the ‘‘ocean moods'' series. He asked a few questions and even suggested some shots. Before she realized it, they were several blocks past the theater, headed in the opposite direction from her apartment building. Shelly paused and glanced around.
‘‘There's an excellent Chinese restaurant in this neighborhood,'' was all Mark said. Without giving her the opportunity to decline, he gently guided her toward the place he'd mentioned.
It was early for dinner, and they were seated immediately. Although they'd been talking comfortably during their walk, Shelly found herself suddenly self-conscious. She toyed with the linen napkin, smoothing it across her lap.
‘‘I hadn't expected to like the play as much as I did,'' he said after a while.
Shelly thought it a bit off that he'd ordered tickets for this production, but perhaps he'd gotten them because Janice had wanted to see Street Suite.
‘‘It's a little frightening the way we keep finding each other, isn't it?'' she ventured.
‘‘I can see how you'd find it disconcerting,'' Mark answered.
‘‘You don't?''
Mark shrugged. ‘‘I haven't given it much thought.''
‘‘I'll admit all these … coincidences do throw me,'' she said, running her index finger along the outline of the fire-breathing dragon on the menu cover. Chancing a glance in his direction, she added, ‘‘But I'm learning to deal with it.''
‘‘So you feel you've been caught in something beyond your control?'' Mark surprised her by asking.
Shelly lifted her gaze to his, amazed by the intensity she read in his eyes. ‘‘No, not really. Well … a little bit, maybe. Do you?''
‘‘It wasn't my aunt Milly who had the dream.''
Shelly smiled and dropped her gaze. ‘‘No, but as my friend Jill reminded me recently, no fifty-year-old dress is going to dictate my life. Or yours,'' she felt obliged to add. Then she realized why he'd asked the question. ‘‘You must feel overwhelmed by all of this. All of a sudden I've been thrust into your life. There's no escaping me, is there?'' she said wryly. ‘‘Every time you turn around, there I am.''
‘‘Are you going to stand up and announce to everyone in the restaurant that you refuse to marry me?''
‘‘No.'' Shelly was appalled at his remark until she remembered that she'd done exactly that the first time they met.
‘‘If you can resist doing that, then I think I can bear up under pressure.''
Shelly ignored his mild sarcasm. ‘‘I'm not interested in marriage yet,'' she told him seriously-just in case he'd forgotten. ‘‘I'm content with my life. And I'm too busy for a husband and family.''
She hadn't noticed how forcefully she was speaking until she saw several of the people at other tables glancing in her direction. Instantly she lowered her voice. ‘‘Sorry, my views on marriage seem to be more fervent than I realized. But I'm not about to let either my mother or my dear aunt Milly determine when I decide to settle down and marry.''
‘‘Personally, I can't see you ever settling down,'' Mark said with a small grin. ‘‘You don't have to worry. When you're ready, you'll know it.''
‘‘Did you?'' She hadn't meant to bring up Janice, but now seemed as good a time as any to remind him-and her-that there was someone else in his life.
Mark shrugged casually. ‘‘More or less. I took a good, long look at my life and discovered I'd already achieved several of my professional goals. It was time to invest my energy in developing the personal aspects of my life. Marriage, children and the like.''
Mark made marriage sound as if it were the next chapter in a book he was reading or a connect-the-dots picture. Shelly couldn't stop herself from frowning.
‘‘You have a problem with that?''
‘‘Not a problem, exactly. I happen to think of marriage a bit differently, that's all.''
‘‘In what way?''
He seemed genuinely interested, otherwise she would have kept her opinions to herself. ‘‘People should fall in love,'' she said slowly. ‘‘I don't think it's necessary or even possible to plan for that to happen. Love can be unexpected-it can take a couple by surprise, knock them both off their feet.''
‘‘You make falling in love sound like a bad case of the flu.''
Shelly smiled. ‘‘In some ways, I think that's exactly how it should be. Marriage is one of the most important decisions in anyone's life, so it should be a deeply felt decision. It should feel inevitable. It's the union of two lives, after all. So you can't simply check your watch and announce ‘it's time.''' She was suddenly concerned that she'd spoken out of turn and might have offended him, but one quick glance assured her that wasn't the case.