How to Marry a Doctor. Nancy Thompson Robards
I do that? I’m not your wife.”
There. Good. She said it. The dreaded w word.
“Are you saying it’s a wife’s role to mock her husband’s cereal choice?”
“Of course not. I never told Hal what he could and couldn’t eat. Then again, since I was the one who cooked in that relationship, he didn’t have much say. But he was completely on his own for breakfast and lunch, free to make his own choices. And you see where that got me. Do you think we would’ve lasted if I had been more concerned?”
“No. Hal was an ass. He didn’t deserve your picking out healthy cereal for him.”
“So you’re saying the woman picking out the cereal rather than leaving him to his own devices was a good thing?”
“Well, yeah. For the record, in the couple we saw back there, the wife was right. He may have wanted that crap, but he didn’t need it. So I’ll side with her. Do you want me to go back over there and tell her I’m on her side?”
“Better not. Not if you want to keep all your teeth.”
Jake laughed but it sounded bitter—even to his own ears. “Why does that have to happen in relationships? People get married and end up hating each other over the most ridiculous things. They fight and tear each other apart and someone leaves. That marriage is in trouble over Much-n-Crunch and its artificially flavored berries. That’s exactly why I don’t want marriage.”
“So you’re saying that the guy should’ve gotten the cereal he wanted?”
“No. I already said I thought the wife was right. Junk like that will kill you. I agree with her. Healthy eating habits are good.”
As they strolled past the dairy section, Anna studied him for a minute. “I’ve just figured out who I’m fixing you up with on your first date. She’s a nutritionist. I think the two of you will have a lot in common. I can’t believe I didn’t think of her until now.”
Her response caught him off guard.
“What is she like?” he asked.
Anna raised her brows. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Okay. Two can play that game,” he said. “You’ll have to be surprised on your first date, too.”
She grimaced. “Go easy on me, Jake. I’m so out of practice. You know how I am. I’m casual. I haven’t been out there in so long.”
“That’s why you need me to fix you up.”
He had no idea who he was going to pick for her first date. Who would be worthy of her? Maybe the best place for him to start would be to rule out anyone who was remotely similar to himself. Because Anna deserved so much better.
“Try this one.” Anna’s sister, Emily, shoved a royal blue sundress with a white Indian motif on the front through the opening in the fitting room curtain in the Three Sisters dress shop in downtown Celebration. “It looks like the basis of a good first-date outfit.”
Anna still wasn’t sure who her date was or where they were going, but one thing she did know was they were getting together on Wednesday and she had nothing to wear. It had been so long since she’d worn anything but jeans or hospital scrubs, she didn’t have a stitch appropriate for a...date. Plus, she had a busy week ahead and this was Emily’s night off. So Anna figured she might as well seize the moment and bring her sister along to help her pick out something nice. If she felt good with what she was wearing, she might feel less nervous on the date, thereby eliminating one potential avenue of stress...or disaster.
She held up the dress her sister had chosen and looked at herself in the mirror. The white pattern running up the front of the dress had a design that might’ve made a nice henna tattoo. It was a little wild for her taste.
“I don’t know, Em, this one looks a little low cut.”
“Try it on. You never can tell when it’s on the hanger.”
Wasn’t that the truth? The same rule could apply to men, too. You had to try them on—well, not literally, of course. She couldn’t fathom getting intimate with a man. Even if it was a man Jake had picked out for her. Not that she was contemplating life as a born-again virgin. It was just too much to contemplate right now. First, she’d meet the guy or guys—Jake did have until the wedding—and see how she got along with him or them. Then she’d think about...more.
The thought made her shudder a little.
She slipped out of the dress she’d just tried on and hung it up—it was a prim flowery number in primary colors. It was too dowdy—too matronly—too...something. Anna couldn’t put her finger on it. Whatever it was, it just didn’t feel right.
“Who did you fix Jake up with?” Emily asked from the other side of the fitting room curtain.
“Her name is Cheryl Woodly. She’s a freelance nutritionist who works with new mothers. I met her at the hospital.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s she like?”
Anna slipped the dress over her head.
“Nice. Smart. Pretty.”
“How is she different from Jake’s past girlfriends?”
“Did you not hear me say she’s nice and smart? Miss Texas possessed neither of those qualities.”
“Me-ow,” said Emily.
“I’m only speaking the truth.”
“When are they going out?”
“Friday.”
Anna stared at herself in the mirror, tugged up on the plunging halter neckline, trying to give the girls a little more coverage. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to put everything on display on a first date. The dress was great, but it was decidedly not her.
“Anna? Did you try on the one I just gave you?”
“Yeah, but—I don’t know.”
“Come out. Let’s see it.”
“Nah. Too much cleavage. Too little dress.”
Anna hesitated, turning around to check out the back view. She had to admit it was a snappy little number and it looked great from behind. But the front drew way too much focus to the cleavage and that made her squirm.
“Let me see.” Before Anna could protest, Emily’s face poked through the split in the curtain.
Anna’s had flew up to her chest.
“It looks great,” Emily said. “The color is out of this world on you. It brings out your eyes. And move your hand.”
Emily swatted away her sister’s hand from its protective station.
“I don’t know what you’re afraid of. It accentuates your tiny waist and you’re barely showing any cleavage at all. It’s just-right sexy. A far cry from those scrubs you hide in every day.”
“My scrubs are for work. They’re my uniform.” Anna turned back to the mirror and put her hands on her hips. She turned to left and then to the right. “You’re just jealous that you don’t ever get to dress so comfortably at work.”
By day, Emily worked in a bank in Dallas and wore suits to work. Because she was saving for a house, two or three times a week she worked as a hostess at Bistro St. Germaine, where she had to dress in sleek, sophisticated black to fit in with the timeless elegance of the downtown Celebration restaurant. Emily had great taste in clothes. Anna would’ve asked if she could borrow something from her younger sister—and Emily would’ve graciously dressed her—but it was time for Anna to add a couple of new pieces to her own wardrobe.