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Posted on Tuesday, 27 November 2001
Lindsey
Right. Finally I've decided what I can do with my Philosophy degree (hmmm), my History minor, and the English masters I'm working on. Publishing. Editing. Or work for a historian. I could do that. I think.
I really wish I could talk to Colin. Colin. Hmmm.
All right! I miss him. But ...
"Lindz!" my brother called down the hallway.
"What's wrong?" I asked, walking into his room. Will was dressed in business clothes; I remembered he was giving a computer-training seminar this afternoon.
"Button fell off my blazer and rolled off the dresser. Your hands are so much smaller -- do you think you could reach back there?" He gestured to a small space between the dresser and a nightstand.
I knelt down and tried to wriggle my arm back while Will fiddled with the change on his dresser.
"By the way ... " he began casually, "What does Lizzy think of me ... now?"
I looked up at him and banged my head on the dresser. "Ouch! -- what Will?"
"Sorry. Is it really that unthinkable?"
"No," I said quickly. "Well, I mean ... " I paused and thought about it. "I think ... she doesn't know."
"You mean you don't know," he said, eyeing me.
"No. She doesn't know."
"Well then, that gives me space for improvement, doesn't it," Will murmured, jingling the change absently.
I retrieved the button. "Does it? So what are you going to do?"
"What? Oh, that ... " Will smiled. "Well, I've got some ideas ... you know, had a guys-only forum to sound the issue out and everything."
"No ... . please, no ... " I muttered. "Which guys, by the way?"
"That's for me to know and you not to find out. Too innocent."
"Not Colin and Bing, Will ... please? Not Colin -- are you insane?"
Will spread his hands wide and smiled beatifically. "The Experts."
"No ... . no ... " I murmured, shaking my head, though I didn't expect it to make any impression.
"Oh by the way, tell Colin happy birthday for me, will you?" I swallowed, but Will didn't notice. "Twenty-five, could you believe it. I can't -- more like seventeen, I sometimes think."
I was silent. Even at seventeen I had thought he was wonderful ...
"Why so blue, Lindzerella?" my brother teased gently.
"What?" I jumped. "Nothing."
"All right ... hey, Linds," he called as I walked out the door, "You didn't have a fight with Colin or anything, did you? I was just thinking, you two haven't seemed to have been talking as much as usual the last few days. Huh ... or maybe last few weeks?. Or maybe that's just me."
"Oh, definitely, something's just you, Will ... "
Once in the hallway, I banged my forehead against the wall. My brother has got to be one of the most oblivious people of my acquaintance. And yet he thinks he's incredibly observant and perceptive of others' motivations. This could become a problem ...
What could I do to help him with Lizzy?
"Eh, Lindseeeeey ... " Will called.
I poked my head around the corner.
"All the same," he continued, knotting his tie, "she thinks I'm kinda cute."
I burst out laughing at Will's broad grin.
"Why's that funny?"
"Of course she thinks that; the fact's driving her out of her mind. How you could have stumbled upon this is what I don't understand."
"Oh. Well," Will shrugged, attempting to look offhand. "I suppose she as much as told me."
I crossed the distance between us and looked up at my much taller brother. "Lizzy told you? You're, hmm, you're sure she wasn't talking about something else?" I asked disbelievingly.
Will considered this a moment, then grinned. "Nah. Definitely said I'm her type."
"Oh." Will was collecting his various seminar paraphernalia, me trailing behind him. "How did it come up?"
"It was er ... a bit of a segue. She had been talking about Colin and how she is not in love with him. He's not her type. Apparently I am." Will picked up him briefcase and scratched his head. "So that's that."
Interesting.
Colin had pale blue frosting on his nose. "Really, thanks, you guys -- you didn't have to do this for me. You're great." He looked around happily at the little group of managers crowded in front of the computer room.
Lou cut himself another piece of chocolate birthday cake. "So, how old this year, Colin?" he asked sardonically. "Nineteen did I hear?"
"Well, I've been called twelve," Colin replied, so ingenuously that I had to smile. At that moment, Colin looked over and caught my eye, slowly smiling back.
I bit my lip and looked down.
Oh, what the hell ...
I looked back up at him, raised my eyebrows and smiled.
Colin got the point. Detaching himself from Julie and Lou's teasing, he strode over to me with a grin.
"So ... "
"Hi."
"How've you been?"
"Well, you know ... " I gave up. "Hey, happy birthday buddy."
Colin raised an eyebrow, leaned toward me, and whispered, "So ... I'm back in your good graces again?"
"Well ... you know ... " I trailed off, taking advantage of the proximity to wipe the frosting off his nose.
"Yeah, I know." No, you have no idea ... "I'm sorry Linds. Really."
"It's okay. I ... overreacted."
"Nah. ... Okay, well maybe a little."
"Yeah."
"I don't blame you."
The conversation was feeling horribly stilted. "I --" I began as Colin started to say something.
"Sorry --"
"No, you go."
"Well ... I mean, not that I'm blaming you for being mad or anything, Lindsey, but I wish I knew exactly why you were ... "
I looked around and felt as if a dozen pairs of eyes were riveted on us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lizzy stop with her coat half-unbuttoned, watching us.
"Not here," I whispered back. "Doing anything tonight?"
Was it just me or was there really a shadow of loneliness that crossed his face?
"Nah ... I don't get off work until eight anyway and then ... " he shrugged.
"Didn't you want the night off?"
"Oh ... well, you know Jack coaches soccer so I took his shift for him today." I looked up at him, smiling, and started to say something. "It's just a birthday," he dismissed.
"You've still got to eat," I pointed out.
Colin shot me a look. "So do you."
"Right," I said, sliding my arm through his as we walked toward the busier section of the front-end. "And really, I felt like cooking tonight, but it would be such as waste since even Will isn't home tonight. And even though I'm off work at six-thirty, it's really earlier than I'd want to eat, especially on a Saturday. More like eight, I think ... "
"More like eight ... " Colin echoed "So, hypothetically speaking, if you had someone else to cook for, what would you make?"
"Well, I was thinking of sort of making it up as I went along."
"Yeah, it's fun that way. So ... you'll need help, right?"
I smiled. "Well, you know, I don't really like cutting up stuff that much."
"I'm good at that. Especially the onions. That, my dear, takes skill. One of my many."
"One of your few," I retorted. Colin crossed his arms. "Few marketable."
"No! Hmm ... well. Yeah."
"It's okay."
"Well, let me think. I can ... hey, I can pull weeds." Colin stopped walking and rubbed his knee. "Man, that still hurts."
"Still from weeding your parents' lawn?" I asked skeptically.
"No ... Shem decided my birthday cake should be a surprise, so she insisted i close my eyes while she led me to it. Unfortunately, she led me into a table ... "
I looked him up and down. "You're not that tall."
"It was a small table. A small metal table. It hurt!"
"Poor baby."
"Yeah, I'll cry later. At least with Shem, I knew it was an accident. If it had been Kimmie, on the other hand ... "
"Are you still whining about that?" Julie approached us briskly, holding a strange fruit. (At least I think it's a fruit.) "What's this?"
"Produce."
"Thank you, Lindsey, any idea of a name?"
"Let's see, A produce ... A ... nope. B ... naah, nothing there ... C ... hmm, C ... eh, no. D ... "
"Colin!"
Colin's eyes flew open and he and gazed at our boss innocently. "What, Julie?"
She stared at him in unspeakable exasperation, then gave up. "Nothing. Just ... just go back to your work, both of you." We heard her mutter something indistinct as she turned and stalked away.
"Well, she's a little agitated," Colin observed.
"Ah ... I think it might be my fault ... a little ... " Bing Charleston had come up behind us as we talked.
"Yeah? What's you do this time?"
"Actually, Linds, Bing's usually well behaved ... within reason ... " Colin argued.
"Deleted her file," Bing supplied.
"Ouch." Colin and I winced together.
"By accident! It was an accident!"
"Yeah, Bing, even I didn't think you'd do something that stupid on purpose." Carley had joined us and was eying her brother with half-amused disgust.
"You do stupid things too!" Bing protested. "Like when you dropped the flashlight down the piano, remember that, Lucia?"
Carley glared and stepped on his foot; she hates being called by her given first name.
"Lucia, Luuucia, lovely Luciiiiiiiiiiaaa!!!" sang Lou in an artificially deep bass.
Carley opened her mouth, looking like she would scream if a sound could come out.
"Hey, okay!!! Soooo, just how did you delete Julie's file, Bingles?" Colin interjected swiftly.
Carley closed her mouth with a deep sigh.
"Er. Yeah." Bing blushed. "Well, I was trying to change the screen-saver in the office to say "Bing loves Jen forever" --"
"In pink?" Colin asked with a smirk.
"I -- I'll have you know it was mauve. Anyway ... Julie had her employee performance file open and I meant to save it, but instead ... " Bing's forehead puckered in distress. "Well, it was all very strange ... "
"Could've been partly 'cause Will's programs keep acting up," Colin reassured him.
I scrunched up my nose ruefully and was on the point of agreeing when Lou broke in. "Wait a minute, aren't you all missing the salient point here?" We looked at him expectantly. "You were trying to change my screen-saver? My screen-saver?"
"Because we all know how important it is for employee morale to have "Kingdom and Domain of Lou Minelli" streaming across the computer screen," I said, laughing.
"Yeah!" Lou turned. "Don't you agree, Lucia?"
She shoved her elbow into his stomach, hard, then stalked away without a word. Lou straightened up, utterly stunned. Then he grinned and strolled away, chuckling softly.
"Oh come on Lizzy, it's not that big a deal."
"You're not the one who has to do it," she retorted sourly.
"What's up?" Colin asked, approaching the runners' podium. "Don't tell me you're mad just because you have to be the closing manager, Liz."
She glared at him in silence. I sighed. "That's not it."
"Heh, you're just mad 'cause now I'm the same age as you so you can't use that over me anymore, can you?"
"Of course I still can," Elizabeth said haughtily. "Because I will be twenty-six in January."
Colin recalled this and scrunched up his nose in surrender.
"It is not be stood for!" Lizzy exploded. Colin looked alarmed.
"She's ummmm ... displeased over the image of being here for hours with the person who's the Night Manager today. I keep telling her it's really not that bad ... "
Colin groaned. "Uh-oh. merchandising or --"
"Perishable side. Closer to me. All. Night. Long." Elizabeth snapped. "Until twelve-thirty. Whyyy?" she wailed.
"Well, it could be a bonding experience," said Colin doubtfully.
"I don't want to bond with Carol Ann!" she exclaimed, thrusting her pen at Colin.
He stepped back. "Okay, she probably don't want to bond with you, either. Happy now?"
Lizzy grunted.
"I thought so. Hey, I get to bond with Lindsey over a dinner that doesn't involve bagels or a microwave, but rest assured, I'll be thinking of you." He grinned at her expression. "You know, I'll be thinking, 'I wish Lizzy could be here too.' Well, actually, no, I won't."
"Colin ... " I murmured, before he could do further damage.
He paid me no heed. "I'll be thinking 'Lizzy is so mature and patient and forbearing ... I just know she'll manage to work it out with Carol Ann tonight, 'cause Lizzy's just that kind of person.' I am I right?"
"Shuddup," she muttered into the surface of the podium.
"I thought so. Now, I have to go get that light. Especially since Julie has a husband and young son, and they would be very sad if she spontaneously combusted. As a matter of fact, I would be sad too, as would a number of --"
"You're babbling again," Julie called briskly as she flew by us.
Lizzy looked up at me after Colin had gone. "Dinner tonight with him?" Her eyebrows were raised to a dangerously inquisitive level.
"Cooking. My house. His birthday," I muttered, and fled. There is really no reason I should be blushing like this.
During the short drive from the store to my house, Colin and I talked about trivial matters or nothing at all. During the silences I kept catching him glance my way, and it sent a nervous, high-strung, exhilarated little buzz through me.
"What?" I finally said, fumbling for the keys to the backdoor.
"What do you mean, what?" Colin followed me through the door and closed it behind him.
"I don't know, I just thought ... you seemed ... Well, you just kept looking at me." Suddenly, ridiculously, I felt embarrassed. I turned toward the back door and began fiddling with the dorky little Halloween and Thanksgiving window decals Will insists on putting up every year.
"Yeah?" said Colin quietly.
"I thought maybe you wanted something, or wanted to know something or ... " I trailed off and closed my eyes, feeling the cold through my fingertips on the window and the heat in my cheeks. This was a bad idea. I was trying to think how to back out of the conversation when I moved my head and bumped against Colin's arm. He was leaning over me, hands against the windows above mine.
"Yeah," he whispered, just above my ear. "I was wondering."
I turned around very slowly and looked up at him. I was stuck, literally and figuratively. This was a very bad idea ... . I met his eyes, swallowed, and nodded slowly.
He smiled faintly. "You never told me why you're mad at me ... "
"I already did."
"Not all of it ... I want the other reasons."
"Other reasons?" I whispered.
"What are they? If I don't know, what can I do? I can't do what you want me to unless I know what it is ... and I want to make you happy."
"You do?"
"I do. And I hate it when you're mad at me."
"I ... "
"So ... ?" He smiled charmingly. "Out with it."
He was getting closer and closer and my mind was spinning faster and faster and I couldn't let my eyes leave his for a second. I did nothing but stare into the blue-gray for a long time then smiled enigmatically. "I'm not telling ... "
He raised an eyebrow but his eyes never left mine either. "I see," he said finally. "Shall I have to find out for myself?"
"Yes."
"Can I, do you think?"
"I don't know, but ... "
"Yes?"
"But ... I hope so."
"Really ... "
"Mmmm ... "
Closer, quieter, warmer, faster, dizzier ...
Very bad idea ...
I still wasn't go to look away. Colin's expression was in a slight smile, but it was serious. It was also very ... intense. Colin is never intense.
No. I take that back. Once, twice, sometimes. I've seen it. It ...
He was unquestionably intense now.
I kept staring back. Everything in my mind was spinning around with the center point in two blue eyes, but I wasn't going to look away. I reached my hands around to steady myself against the door.
Colin's eyes grew a millimeter wider, then dropped to the floor. Then he took his hands off the door and slid them over mine. "Hands are cold, Linds," he murmured.
"Yours are colder," I mumbled at his shoulder. The room behind him had righted itself when his eyes had finally left mine. But my mind was still spinning.
"I know." He sounded even closer now.
Very bad idea ... That was too damn late.
This felt too right.
My hands dropped off the door and tightened against his fingers. His thumbs slid over my wrists.
Closer ...
His lips brushed against mine. Almost.
I closed my eyes.
"What the devil is Annie doing here?" Colin exclaimed.
Posted on Tuesday, 27 November 2001
Elizabeth
"Open your mouth and close your eyes."
My head shot up. "Not a chance."
Carol Ann smiled at me, but kept her hands behind her back. "Come on, Lizzy, what are you expecting?"
"Poison pill."
"In front of all these people? If I wanted to assassinate you, I wouldn't do it in a public place. Give me a little credit."
I rolled my eyes in exasperation, then closed them. "Fine. But don't think that just 'cause I'm letting you do this I trust you, because -- Mmmm ... "
Chocolate. Dark, velvety chocolate, with a taste of raspberry.
I opened my eyes again. "Where did you get that?"
Carol smiled and revealed a plateful of small chocolate squares. "Patisserie gave 'em to me. Hey," she flicked one with a perfectly shaped crimson nail, "I think that one's got chocolate fudge."
"Really?" I reached for it, then paused. "Er, ah, sure you don't want it?"
"Nah. I think this one's almond." We both chewed in silence a minute. "Pretty slow tonight, huh?"
"Yeah. I've already cut --" I glanced down at my papers, "five people early in the past few hours."
"I haven't got too much to do either." Carol leaned against the cooler next to me.
I was in a quandary. She looked like she was staying around awhile. I didn't really want her to, but then, she had been nice and had given me the chocolate, so I couldn't easily be rude to her. Not to mention that if she left the chocolates would go away too, and that would be very bad.
"Think of it as a peace-offering," said Carol wryly, but without looking at me.
"Huh?"
"C'mon, Lizzy. Enough of this. I'm sorry for how I've treated you before. I'd like to think you might feel the same way."
I blinked. "I -- I ... yeah. I'm sorry about that. Kind of middle-school stuff isn't it, anyway?"
Carol laughed. "Yeah ... I have to admit. I just kept the resentment from high school, but now ... she stopped and looked down at her hands.
I watched her. Her appearance was considerably more ... toned down, I suppose I would call it. I had to admit, she dressed well, especially compared to my somewhat helter-skelter appearance. "Why now, Carol? I wanted to before; I realized how ridiculous it was, but I didn't know how to start. Thank you."
Carol Ann sighed. "Part of it is probably because of Richard." She smiled.
"Did he ask you out?" I grinned.
"Yeah. I wish I had thought of looking for someone like him before. He's just ... "
"A perfect gentleman," I supplied. "Richard's wonderful. He really likes you," I added, and smiled at her blush.
"He's so much more suited for me than the guys I was after before." She shrugged. "I feel more relaxed, more like I can be myself."
I nodded. "Yeah, I wondered what in you had changed."
"But Lizzy, the reason I was so awful to you before -- and why I don't want to be like that anymore -- is Will."
"Will? Will Fitzdarcy?" I almost squeaked. "I ah ... "
Carol turned to me. "He's always had a thing for you. He didn't understand it for a long time, but I think he did see it later. He loves you."
"I ... " I stuttered, feeling my face flame.
"He still loves you," said Carol softly.
"Oh, no, no, 'cause ... no ... I -- really?"
"Really. And I've always seen it, hence what I did to you." I suppose I still looked doubtful, because Carol's arms flew up. "Really!"
Don't ask me to explain my stupid grin. I can't. "He loves me?" Carol nodded patiently. "Huh, how'd I do that?"
Carol laughed. "I don't know, Lizzy, but I wanted to know for a long time."
Suddenly I panicked. "What do I do now???"
Carol shrugged. "He's Will Fitzdarcy. How should I know? You'll just have to go with it as it happens."
It started happening a lot sooner than I thought it would. Around eleven-thirty I turned around to fine myself face to face with Will Fitzdarcy, quite nicely dressed in a business suit.
"Hey, just who I wanted to find."
"Ahhh ... " I was red-faced, speechless, and thrown completely off balance. That wasn't fair! he couldn't come, so soon, with no warning, and catch me off guard like this ... . What am I possibly supposed to say ... ???
I couldn't think of a single witty remark. This is what I do, damnit! I was an embarrassed, stuttering mess. And meanwhile he was so uncharacteristically relaxed and at ease. I turned to the cooler and started arranging the Snapples in straight lines. "What do you want?"
"I need your help."
I jumped. I hadn't know he was that close behind me ... ! "Ye-es ... ?"
He turned me around to face him, an amused look on his face. What? What? What is happening??? It's a damned Twilight Zone.
"I need you to be my other half," he said, still smiling. "Don't look so alarmed; it's strictly voluntary." He looked amused at my expression, whatever it was.
'I ... "
"I need a strong writer for my projects. A journalist."
"Oh." I let my breath out in a rush.
Will either didn't hear or pretended. "And someone I know, can trust. Someone dynamic. So I said to myself, 'Lizzy, who else?' So, what do you say?"
"I ... I have no idea what you're talking about."
Will opened his mouth, then grinned. "A point. See why I need someone like you? Otherwise I just explain things from my point of view, don't think about the audience at all."
"I still --"
"I know. Well, I want to -- hey, you know what? No point in explaining the whole thing now. I couldn't. Why don't you come over later this week ... Thursday evening good?"
I nodded blankly.
"Great." He took a Pepsi out of the cooler and headed for a cash register. "Amazin', Liz!" he called back.
I closed my eyes and stood with my forehead against the wall for a long time.
Posted on Wednesday, 13 February 2002
Lindsey
"A-Annie?"
"Yeah." Colin peered through the Venetian blinds. "That's her car, isn't it?"
I made my way, albeit a bit unsteadily, toward the windows and saw a silver Camry in the driveway. Slowly, the door opened and the driver emerged, looking inexpressibly forlorn. I glanced at Colin.
He was frowning and already halfway out the backdoor. "This can't be good..."
I leaned over a table and took a long slow breath, trying to rearrange my mind, and blessing my cousin for her unexpected arrival. If not for Annie, who knew what extent of lunacy I might have committed. I finally remembered Jack. Right....
I steadied myself and went out to the driveway.
"It's all right. Come in first, talk later. It's okay, Annie. Don't worry." Colin had his hand on her arm and was speaking in the reassuring tones he used for frightened small children and animals. Annie Wesley's face was nearly white, contrasting starkly with her vivid red hair and dark eyes. She looked as forlorn as she had when she first emerged, lonely, scared, distressed, but intensely determined.
"Annie...?" I began doubtfully. She took a breath to say something, but instead broke down and began to cry.
"Lindz." I met Colin's eye and followed it to the trunk of the car. Thankful for our ability to read each other's unspoken communication, I nodded.
"Come on Annie, you'll freeze." I took her hands and drew her toward the house. "Colin's going to bring in your stuff."
"I'm sorry," she squeaked desperately, wiping her eyes.
"What for? I missed you."
"I..."
"How's Columbia?" I asked doubtfully.
Annie blanched and seemed on the verge of tears again. I whisked her into the kitchen, sat her down, and turned on the teakettle. "I'll be right back."
Colin closed the trunk and picked up two suitcases. I took a smaller bag and got the keys from the ignition. "Did she tell you what's wrong?" I asked.
"Something about her mother, law school..." Colin sighed. "Poor kid."
Annie stood up as we entered the kitchen. "I'm sorry. I don't know why -- I -- sorry. This is stupid. I'll go..."
"No, hon." The kettle started to whistle. "Colin, could you --?"
"I know what to do."
"Don't be sorry, Annie. What happened?"
"I'm never going back to Columbia. Never." Through all the misery, Annie looked more determined than I have ever seen her.
Colin set a mug of hot chocolate in front of her. "What happened?"
"I hate law school. I never wanted to be a lawyer. I never wanted to go to Columbia. I never wanted to major in sociology in college. I never wanted to go to Brown, either. But I did, for four years, because Mother wanted me to. And then I started at Columbia, because Mother wanted me to. I went out with that horrible guy, because Mother wanted me to. And --" She took a long drink of hot chocolate.
"I see," said Colin quietly. "It's always been like that, hasn't it?"
Annie's eyes flashed anger, and I was glad to see it. "Yes. I went to horseback riding and ballet, because Mother wanted me to. I joined chorus, even though I couldn't carry a tune to save myself. I played flute, because Mother said I had to, even though I wanted to play trombone, like Will. I learned French instead of Spanish because she said to. I took classes I hated, because Mother wanted me to, and I got an A in every single class." Her expression turned uncharacteristically sardonic. "The model student. And when they got divorced, she wouldn't let me live with Dad, even though I wanted to. She hardly even let me see him when she didn't have to until I got older."
Colin and I looked at each other in silence, not sure what to say. Neither of us has ever gotten along well with my Aunt Camilla, and we've both always liked Colin's Uncle Clarence. He had helped bail out Will and Bing after the Geoff Hollwick disaster, and now runs the company with Uncle Gardiner. Colin put another marshmallow in Annie's mug.
Annie was still pale, but the tears and the apologetic look were gone. "But when she found out about Rachel and Dad..."
"Rachel?" I asked. "My Aunt Rachel?"
Annie nodded slowly. "She's going to marry Dad."
"Really?" I smiled. "I didn't expect that, but that's g--" I stopped, not sure of how Annie had reacted to the news.
Annie looked up from her hot chocolate and smiled shyly. "No, don't worry Lindsey. I'm happy about it. I love Rachel. But when Mother found out about it, she was furious. She said Rachel's a conniving tramp after Dad's money and she said I'm forbidden to go to their wedding." Annie looked at the table and hesitated. "She even insulted your mother, Lindsey. She --"
"My mother?"
Annie looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. You know my mother..."
Rachel Flemming is my mother's younger sister. She was widowed eighteen years ago, when her husband Anthony was killed in the same car accident as my mother. She's never remarried. At a family party last year, she and Clarence had become quite absorbed in conversation, and I know that they had seen each other since then. Still, I hadn't expected them to come this far, at least not yet.
"Rachel and Clarence," said Colin thoughtfully. "You know, I can see that. But I can see how Cam might not be too pleased, too..."
Annie nodded. "She wasn't... and then I told her I liked Rachel, and she shouldn't talk about her that way, and when they get married I'm going to their wedding, so we had a big fight. That was two weeks ago. Dad's actually planning to have a big party to announce it, so don't tell anyone yet, I guess. But I went back to Columbia, and I still hated it, and resented my mother more and more, and then --"
"Annie," said Colin sharply. "What was that about the horrible guy?"
Annie swallowed. "Marc. His parents are friends with Mother and he goes to NYU, so Mother made me go with him to some party. I didn't really like him when we were introduced, but... well, he was really nice to me and Mother wanted me to like him. But then --" She stopped and shook her head. "I don't really want to talk about it now. Maybe I'll tell you later, but I'm fine."
I glanced at Colin. He was staring at Annie, his jaw tense and the same look in his eyes as when he had faced Geoff Hollwick four years ago. If this Marc character could have seen him, I am sure his only sensible thought would be to run like hell as far as possible from Colin. I relapsed into silence as I thought about this.
"Colin," Annie repeated. "I'm fine." He gave her a long serious look, then tacitly agreed to leave the subject -- for now. She cleared her throat and her chin shot up. Colin stared at her, looking utterly bemused, then his expression cleared and one of his slow, lopsided, wry smiles replaced the puzzled frown. He shot a look at me that was meant to convey some meaning, I am certain, but I had no idea what.
"I have left Colombia," Annie said imperiously, showing a rare resemblance to her mother. "I found a girl to replace me in the apartment I shared and sold her all the stuff I didn't need. Everything else should arrive at Dad's house by UPS in a few days. I will not go back to law school. I will not go back to my mother's house. I will get a job. Eventually, I will go back to college and study something I want to do. I--"
"Annie?" said Colin with a grin.
"Yes?"
"Good."
"What?"
"That's all. Just good. I'm glad."
Annie looked at him doubtfully over the rim of her mug. "Um... okay. Thank you, Colin."
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, then stood up. "Hungry?"
"I am," I said, pushing back my chair.
"Oh! I didn't interrupt your dinner or --"
"Nope. We hadn't even started to think about what we're making. Any ideas?" Colin glanced back at me.
I was rummaging through the refrigerator. "Hmmm. I think we might have some chicken in here ... yeah." I slid the package across the counter to him.
"It's frozen."
"Then I suggest you get cracking at the stove, hmm?" I slid the vegetable drawer open with my foot and relieved it of about half its contents. Colin opened the package of chicken and unceremoniously dumped it into a skillet.
From the kitchen table, Annie watched our machinations with wonder. "Do you want me to do anything? I can help."
"Nah," Colin and I said together. Colin opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass for Annie, to relax her nerves, and one for each of us, to, ah, spur the creative process. I went out to the garden and returned with a handful of assorted herbs. Colin was working his way through chopping all the vegetables and Annie had begun to set the table.
"Hey Linds," Colin asked, peering at the bottle of wine, "this isn't terribly expensive or rare or anything, is it?"
"I don't know, my brother bought it. I wouldn't think so though. Why?"
"Okay, good." Colin added a liberal amount to our stir-fry concoction.
"Do you have a feeling for a slightly alcoholic meal, Colin?" Annie asked, amused.
"The alcohol cooks off and you know it, young lady. The only way it will affect you is -- like this." He refilled her glass, then his own. "Wait a minute -- you are used to this, aren't you? I don't want to make you pass out."
"Colin ... I'm almost twenty-three."
"Right. Just checking."
I took advantage of the exchange to think some more about what had occurred before Annie's arrival. There was nothing special, I told myself. Look at his reaction when Annie mentioned Marc. He may have been angry and defended me to Geoff Hollwick, but he would do the same for his cousin. It was just his chivalrous instinct kicking in.
Nothing special.
His fingers brushed against mine as he took the spoon from my hand. I started involuntarily, and blushed as I met his eyes, then quickly looked away.
Nothing special.
Annie had stopped in the middle of reaching for something and was staring at us thoughtfully. "You two ... are you...?" she stopped.
"What?" Colin asked, turning around.
She shook her head and refolded a napkin, but her forehead was still pucked in perplexity. "Never mind."
He shrugged and picked up a sponge. I knew what Annie had been about to ask, though. I stood in the middle of the kitchen and drew yet another long, slow breath. Colin turned and took a step at the same time, crashing into me. "Eh, sorry about that." A hand on my arm and the other on my waist, just in passing, but still more than needed to steady me. Especially since the effect upon me was anything but steadying. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind of very bad things.
"Let's kick it up a notch!" Startled, my eyes flew open at Colin's exuberant exclamation.
"How...?" I asked, before it dawned on me he was merely referring to culinary procedure.
He was holding the pepper grinder. "My dad watches the cooking shows. He says that all the time," he said innocently.
"Ah." I bit my lip and nodded. "You know what, I never got the mail." I fled to the front door.
Ridiculous! I had to get control of myself. I waited until the chill of the October wind seeped deep into my skin, then went back inside. If Colin's blue eyes and not-even kiss could send me into this state, but with Jack -- I stopped. Thoughts like these would get me nothing but trouble, and I was going to stop. Now.
I glanced at the portrait of my mother as I passed the library. She looked so much like Will. Miss Laura Georgiana Lindsey would never have been this lost, no matter how charming young Robert Fitzwilliam may have been.
Then again, she did end up marrying him...
Easy, Lindsey Georgiana. Take it slow.
Slow?? What are you thinking, girl? You're not going to do anything at all!
I kicked myself in the ankle -- literally -- for good measure before going back into the kitchen. The continuation of my high school crush on him was one thing. Lusting after him was quite another. And falling in love with him -- well, enough of that, now.
Annie was telling Colin about her future plans when I walked in. "Geophysics?" he laughed.
"What's wrong with that?" she asked indignantly.
"Nothing, it's just a far cry from what your mother wanted, that's all."
"That's true," our cousin acknowledged with a wry smile. "But hey, it's my life," she added stubbornly.
Colin grinned again. "Ah, Annie... Indeed it is. Well, anyway, you mentioned you wanted your old job back at the store, right?"
"Well, if I could..."
"Hell, we can always use more competent people." He grimaced and I sighed in agreement. Why don't you go down and see Julie on Monday? She'd love to have you back, I'm sure. Still asks me how you're doing every so often, did you know that?" He smiled at her and Annie turned faintly pink.
"Really? I didn't think anyone would remember me, I mean..."
"Of course they do," I said. "You're one of the few people who never got into a fight with anyone. Do you have any idea how remarkable that is? Come back for a week and it'll jog your memory."
"Hell, even Bert liked her, and he disapproves of everyone," Colin snorted.
"Has he been calling you irresponsible again, Colin?" I asked sweetly.
"Completely baseless accusation," he retorted, flinging a dripping sponge at me, muttering under his breath. "Insufferable prig..."
"Bert Burg's still there?" Annie asked. "I wonder why, since he seems to dislike it so much."
"Well... at least he knows what he's doing," I allowed. "You've never had to work with his little brother Billy, I don't think --"
"Well, you will," said Colin darkly. "Jeez ... naming your kids Bertram and Billiard. I wonder if they have any sisters! Cueball and Mafalda, maybe?"
Annie snorted into her hot chocolate and was overtaken by a coughing fit for several moments.
Colin continued, "Anyway, Shem misses having a fellow maid-of-all-work around, and Mosylu wishes there was another woman at the desk at night with all the boys, so 'things could get done right for once,' as she says. And trust me, they could use another peacekeeper in the accounting office."
"Yeah, I remember," she laughed.
"Everything'll be fine, Annie," he said, taking a more serious tone.
"I know, but --"
"And you don't have to have pitched warfare with your mother."
"Just relax and stick around with us for awhile," I said. "I know you were thinking of living with your dad, but for one thing, that's a forty minute drive to and from work on a good day. And besides, if you stay with us, it'll be more... neutral. You don't really want to cut yourself off from your mother -- just show her you're independent and make your own decisions. All right?"
"But --"
"Just give it a try?" I implored. "Besides, Clarence is in South Korea for the next two weeks. At least 'til then?"
"Well..." Annie smiled. "If you're sure you want me..."
"Of course."
"Wait -- what about your brother? Are you sure it'll be all right with him?"
"Are you kidding? Will would love to have you."
"Either you stay here or I'm dragging you back to my apartment, Annie," Colin threatened.
"All right! I'll stay."
"Good choice," I advised. "If you had any idea what his apartment looks like..."
"I heard that," Colin retorted, swatting my backside with a dishtowel.
"That's because you were intended to, of course."
"Glad to see some things haven't changed," Annie commented dryly as she stooped to mop up the water Colin had splashed about.
Colin leaned back and put his feet up on the coffee table, crossing his legs at the ankles. His dorky but endearing Mickey Mouse tie was tossed over the back out the couch. "She really seems to have broken out of the passiveness. And let me tell you, I am glad to see it. Don't you agree?"
I nodded. "She's much more confident, I think."
After dinner, we had shooed Annie upstairs to the expansive guest room to unpack and get herself together while we cleaned up the dishes. If the music and scuffling sounds overhead were any indication, she was still getting settled. Colin and I kicked back in the big room off the kitchen we used as a library, study, family room, you name it. Feeling a draft, parted the curtains to the sliding glass patio door and ran my hand before the seams of the window. "I thought Will was going to recaulk this over the summer, but I guess he forgot. Maybe he can still get it in before it starts snowing though."
You could say I lost my faith in science and progress
"Just give me the word and I'd be glad to do it," Colin drawled lazily, eyes half closed. "I'm sure my dad's got some hanging around the basement somewhere." I threw a glance out the window at the house next door where the elder Wesleys still lived.
"Don't worry about it ... if I can't press Will into manual labor, I can do it myself."
With a low chuckle, Colin opened one eye, raising the correspondent eyebrow. "Sure you don't want any help with that, kid?"
If I ever lose my faith in you
A few months ago I had attempted to repair a wobbly ceiling fan in the kitchen, insisting I could do it myself. Needless to say, such a claim cannot go unpunished by the higher powers, and so it was that I found myself standing on tiptoe on the kitchen table, trying to support the fan with my fingertips, all the screws having fallen out at once. Since I couldn't relinquish my hold on the fan, but could not fix the cursed thing until I retrieved the screws, scattered about the kitchen floor far out of my reach, my only recourse was desperate shrieking. Fortunately, Colin was helping his father with some yard work next door and dashed in to rescue me from my plight. It hardly has to be mentioned that Colin has persisted in teasing me about the incident at every opportunity since. "I think I should be able to handle this," I said defensively.
Some would say I'm a lost man in a lost world
Colin smirked. "Yes... Annie's starting to show that Fitzdarcy independent streak, isn't she?"
I perched on the edge of an armchair. "Are you implying something?"
If I ever lose my faith in you
"Certainly."
I could be lost inside their lies without a trace
I raised my eyebrows with a questioning smile.
"I wouldn't call it a bad thing by any means," he continued, "only that Annie seems to be turning into a lovely young lady quite as independent and spirited as a particular old friend of mine. She herself had once been quite diffident and timid, but if you had ever asked me, I would have always said not to speak too soon... and I see now I was right. She's made her mistakes, learned her lessons, and weathered more than her share of tumbles... And now, she is gracious, intelligent, rather too pert, impossibly stubborn, quick-witted, thoughtful, sweet... and thank heavens, never, ever, ever pretentious."
I stared at him as he contemplated his wine, then took another sip I might not have as much of his affection as I desired, but I could not have asked for any more of his regard. He looked up again. "So I know Annie's going to be fine."
I never saw no miracle of science
"You helped me," I said finally.
"I always knew you had it in you. And if I helped coax the spirit out sooner, then I'm glad. You have the stuff in you..." he stopped, shaking his head, and smiled. "More simply, maybe. You're one of the finer things in life."
With that, he stood up and walked towards the kitchen, leaving me speechless. "And never forget that I appreciate it."
Let me say this first
I sat in stunned silence until I saw him pick up his coat. "Stay."
He turned around and found me suddenly next to him. "Are you propositioning me, Miss Fitzdarcy?" he teased gently.
Yes!
No, no, no. "It's late... and well, all that wine. Come on, it wouldn't be the first time you've crashed on our couch." I managed to force a small smile.
If I ever lose my faith
Colin took off his coat again. "Since you insist..."
The man sitting at the kitchen table munching down Cheerios when I came downstairs the next morning was neither my brother nor Colin. Bing Charleston greeted me cheerfully as I poured a cup of coffee.
"What are you doing here?"
He snorted. "Because I always get such a warm welcome, of course. Well... that and Will and I have a meeting with some people who want us to do some IT work for them."
"You too?" I asked curiously.
"Yep." Bing looked supremely pleased with himself. "Big project... and that means big bucks."
"You two aren't thinking of going back into business together again... officially?"
"We are indeed." Bing gulped down half a glass of orange juice in one go. "And Lizzy's gonna be in on it too ... if we can convince her."
"Lizzy? Lizzy, Elizabeth?"
Bing chuckled and attacked a muffin.
"Benedict?"
"Yes, yes, the same Lizzy we all know and love. And believe it or not, Will thinks he has good reason to believe she'll agree to join us."
While I tried to think of what I could say that would do justice to this remarkable statement, Bing leaned forward with a smirk. "Colin dashed out of here about ten minutes ago. So he crashed here again?"
"We were drinking all night and it was pretty late, so I thought he should stay. Our cousin Annie dropped in yesterday... it was a bit of a surprise."
He nodded. "Yep, Colin told me before he left. I always liked her, you know." He tilted back his chair and eyed me. "But if you ask me, what's really the surprise is that Colin ended up merely on the couch..."
"Bing!" I exclaimed, blushing furiously. "Really..."
He shrugged. "You can deny it all you want, but I know what I'm seeing..."
"Bing, what are you trying to say --"
"It's too early to be arguing," my brother's voice boomed, preceding him into the kitchen. "And between you two, of all people," he shook him head. He was shortly followed by a rather embarrassed looking Annie. Will bent down and kissed her cheek, murmuring "I'm glad you're here."
"You want to go into business with Lizzy?" I asked. "Are you going to work through the company again too? Gard and Clarence want you back."
Will frowned at Bing. "Nothing's settled ... in fact, we haven't even asked Lizzy yet. I don't want to speculate ... and I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself."
"I know," I said quickly, hugging him. "Good luck at the meeting today."
My brother nodded, taking a quick swig of coffee from my cup. "That I'm not worried about ... but I'm afraid what happens next is up to Lizzy."
"If I Ever Lose my Faith in You" -- Sting
Posted on Tuesday, 19 March 2002
"Were you able to find someone else to tutor for you Thursday night?" Jen asked as she poured the coffee.
Kristen nodded. "Yeah ... I'll be there."
"Be where?" I asked. "What's Thursday?"
Jen looked at me strangely. "Dinner at Mom and Dad's. Don't you remember?"
I gasped in recollection and swore through my teeth.
"You forgot." Kristy smirked. "No, wait, you didn't forget. You temporarily misremembered." Jen looked confused. Kristy took it upon herself to elaborate, much to my chagrin. "Lizzy never gets lost, either, you see. She gets temporarily misplaced."
"Kris ... who told you about that? Colin?"
"Nope, Will."
"He did? That little--! Well, he didn't tell you it was because he forgot the map, did he?"
"Yep." Kristen leaned across the kitchen counter, grinning wickedly. "He told me everything, Lizzy."
Jen shot me a sly look over her coffee cup. "Indeed? And just what was that, Lizzy? You two seemed to be gone an awfully long time if I remember rightly."
"That's because we got lost. Then Will had to stop at home to change his shirt."
"What?" Jen and Kristen exchanged looks.
"He was standing outside in the rain. And he still had to go back to work ... which is exactly where I'm going now." I grabbed my coat and bag and made a hasty escape, leaving my two giggling sisters to speculate.
I couldn't skip out of dinner, but what about my meeting with Will? This dinner was going to cause two rather sticky dilemmas.
I was still pondering the situation a few hours later. "Monday, Monday..." a voice behind me sang. I didn't even bother to turn around.
"Morning, blue eyes."
"Hey Lizzy, what's up?"
"Nothin'."
"Then how come you've got that look on your face? It can't just be 'cause the weekend's over. Besides, we don't even have regular weekends, anyway."
"What look?"
"The desperate look --"
"I don't look desperate," I argued. "I don't think..."
"Well ... last time I saw it, you were stuck between Billy Burg and a dead fish," Colin explained. "Literally."
I recalled the incident last spring and shrugged it off. "I forgot I'm supposed to go to dinner at my parents' house Thursday," I muttered.
He shrugged. "So? If you've got to work late that night I'm sure you can find someone to switch shifts with you. I would, but I'm here 'til eight which won't do you much good."
"No, that's not it, but thanks." I groaned. "I'm just waiting for Mom to call me to see if I'm bringing anyone so she 'knows how many places to set' which really means 'so I have time to invite someone for you.' Jen's bringing Bing of course, and Kristy's bringing one of the guys she's tutoring in statistics. So I --"
"I'll go!" Colin volunteered enthusiastically. He has a bizarre affection for my family -- well, most members, at least. He has no patience for Lynda, and Myra has a tendency to snap (or throw things) at him. However, he adores my mom (especially when she plies him with baked goods) and gets a kick out of Dad's cynical humor. He holds Jen as the epitome of womanly perfection (then again, doesn't every guy), and it seems like he sees Kristy as another little sister, despite the recent flirtation fiasco. Even our three dogs view Colin as sort of an honorary family member.
"No. Mom thinks I've got a thing for you, remember? So if I take you --"
"No," he interrupted. "Then we can prove we're just friends, right? So, what's she making for dinner?"
"It doesn't matter, you're not coming. You know how my mom thinks, Colin. Plus, Kristy will be there, so..."
"Er ... sorry."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Actually though ... there's another problem. Nothing to do with you."
"Can it be? Something that isn't my fault?"
I ignored the sarcasm. "I'm s'posedameetWill'nThursd'night."
He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Mind saying that again?"
"I told Will I would meet Thursday night," I muttered, but more distinctly.
Colin smirked at leaned back against the wall, arms folded. "Yeah, that's what I thought you said," he laughed. "And may I ask --"
"No leaning!" Julie scolded, rushing past us.
"Strictly business," I said firmly as Colin assumed quasi-military posture.
"Uh-huh, what kind of business?" Colin asked, slouching again now that Julie was out of sight.
I was about to explain, but saw the glint of innuendo in his eye and decided it wasn't worth it. Rolling my eyes, I shrugged and went over to help a cashier.
He followed me. "I see, so you're thinking of inviting him, right?"
"Yeah," I admitted.
"Well, why not? Lynda and Myra are by far the worst of it, and he already knows them anyway."
"But my mother..."
"Oh come on Lizzy, she's such a sweetheart. And she can cook!"
"But ... she'll start hinting ... or maybe she'll think we're already together ... and..."
Colin smirked. "So? He'll probably like that."
I glared at him.
"Damn! Overshot," I muttered to myself as I bent to retrieve the Reynolds Wrap I had tried to toss into the farthest reshop bin. The automatic door of the employee entrance swung open when I moved closer. I straightened up, then sniffed the air. Grumbling, I marched outside.
"All right, who's been smoking?" I demanded. Then glancing to my left, I discovered the culprits skulking against the wall of the building. Espying the yellow nametags indicating minors, my mood soured considerably. "Great, it looks bad enough for employees to be smoking in front of the store, but underage teenagers at that. Nice." I crossed my arms. "I realize you were otherwise engaged, but I still thought you might have realized that all that in front of you is our parking lot, which at the moment happens to be reasonably well packed. And so it follows that customers -- right now quite a lot of them -- have no choice but to walk in this direction, facing this way. I'm sure I don't have to remind any of you, but that means you're the first impression they're getting of us. Lovely, huh?"
"It's not illegal for us to smoke," one of them said sulkily. "And we're on break. You can't do anything about it."
"Oh yeah? It's against store rules to be hanging out here smoking. That's why we've got the smoking room upstairs. And it is illegal for you to buy cigarettes ... but as long as you didn't get them here, you're right, there is really nothing I can do about that." I shooed the group inside, a few of them muttering things I chose to ignore. "And I hope I don't have to remind you all that anyone who's been selling tobacco to minors will catch hell when we find out. When, not if."
I went back outside to sweep up the cigarette butts. I heard a snort, then a stream of cigarette smoke blew toward me. The sinking realization hit me before I even turned around. No...
My youngest sister sat on the wall overlooking the stairs that led to the street, coolly smoking a cigarette. "Lynda ... these rules apply to you as well, you know." I walked over to her.
She shrugged and flicked the glowing ash off her cigarette. It landed just in front of my shoe. "I'm nineteen. What, are you going to tell me these things will kill me? I've heard it all before, Lizzy."
"I know, you don't care. I was talking about the rules, Lyd. If you want to smoke, go upstairs."
"Same old Lizzy. Always follows the rules, always a good girl. The straight and narrow." She still sat there smoking. "Is it some kind of power trip for you, being manager? I've always wondered why you'd want to -- I mean, I could understand if you just stood there, like some, but you actually work hard. So maybe it's 'cause you get off bossing around a bunch of school kids."
"Lynda, can we please have this discussion later? Jack's on lunch and I have to get back before they're swamped."
"What, worried you're gonna get in trouble because of me? Oh no, maybe Bert and Colin will just have to walk a little faster, ooh, maybe they're even going to have to make someone wait because you're gone two minutes. Get a life, will you? I can't believe you even care; you're still getting paid the same. You're so good, Lizzy. It makes me sick. You're even worse than Kristen and almost as bad as Jen. I mean, you're nowhere near perfect and I know you don't always do what you're supposed to. You've never been really bad though. Lord, how can you ever have any fun?"
I replied only to what was pertinent to the situation. "It's my job. It affects the appearance of the store. C'mon, Lyd, you know it looks like -- ah ... it looks bad. I can't ignore it ... even for you." I pressed my fingers together, trying to keep my temper and my patience. "Besides, isn't your lunch over already? Bert's been looking for you for almost twenty minutes. It's getting pretty busy and you don't want to get him pissed."
Rolling her eyes, she stood up and tossed her cigarette over the wall to the sidewalk below. "Thank you," I said as graciously as possible. I wanted to tell Lynda her attitude was lousy but that would have to wait. "And please refrain from doing this is the future."
"And if I don't?"
"You will face the consequences."
"What'll you do, Lizzy?"
Something in her smirk made my blood run cold. "The same as I would with anyone. You can consider this your verbal warning. Next time will be written, and after that, suspension."
Lynda pulled a lipstick out of her purse and turned toward the store window to apply it. When she finished, she turned back to me. "You wouldn't dare."
I forced the bile back down my throat, trying to stifle my temper and my growing fear of what my sister's increasingly headstrong and reckless ways might bring. Meeting her light brown eyes as steadily as possible, I forced myself to disregard the smug curve of her smile. "If you continue this kind of insubordination, Lynda, I shall have no other recourse. Yes, I would dare. And don't think that I'll go easy on you because you're my sister. On the contrary -- and I hate to threaten this, but I'm afraid that if you run up against me, you'll find I'm even more strict."
She snorted again. I had another suspicion on my mind. If I didn't ask, I wouldn't have to deal with it ... oh, stop shirking, Lizzy. You can face this. I stopped her at the door. "Lynda ... are you retailing cigs to those kids?"
"I need some extra cash," she replied dismissively. "If I buy them cheap by the carton at the gas station I CAN MAKE ABOUT TWO BUCKS A PACK. So what?"
I finally exploded. "So what? For one, that is illegal. And don't say they won't arrest you for that -- they will. You know how tough this state is about that -- well, you should know, anyway. And do you want to lose your job? Try explaining that to a potential employer -- 'I got busted for running a cigarette racket, profiteering from sixteen-year-olds' nicotine habit --'"
"Oh geez, Lizzy, you make it sound like I'm a drug dealer."
"Don't interrupt me, young lady. Who the hell do you think you are, saying you need some extra cash? You live at home still mooching off Mom and Dad. Yes, I am aware that you have your expenses -- movies, makeup, and McDonald's -- but you know what? I've got rent, utilities, groceries, college loans, grad school, car expenses, insurance, and a decent wardrobe to pay for. Sometimes I think I could use a little extra cash too, but -- Oh! Don't you dare try that excuse with me again!"
By now I was practically shouting. Colin poked his head out the door. "Is everything okay out here ... Lizzy?"
I opened my mouth but instead just took a big breath. Lynda took advantage of the distraction to dart back inside. Colin put his hands on my shoulders, letting me recover my composure. I closed my eyes, surprised to find them pricking with tears of frustration. "What am I going to do with her..."
"Shh ... it's okay, Lizzy." He held open the door for me, then followed me back inside. "Not your problem."
But it is...
I picked up the phone. I put it down again.
I picked it up. I dialed three numbers.
I put it down again.
I kicked myself.
I picked up the phone. I dialed all seven numbers. I heard a ring. I slammed the receiver down again.
I walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I glared at myself. I walked out, picked up the phone, pressed redial. I tucked the receiver under my chin while I sat on my hands and whistled loudly.
"Hello?" queried a deep, amused voice.
I jumped and the phone crashed to the floor. "Uh, hello? Ah, Will, this is Lizzy."
"I thought so. Was that 'Seventy-Six Trombones'?"
"Huh? Oh. Er, yeah."
"I'm flattered."
I frowned in confusion, then remembered Will played the trombone in high school. Ugh ... Jen the psych major is not finding out about this. "Um ... anyway, I called about our meeting on Thursday. See ... I'm supposed to go to my parents' house for dinner that night, completely forgot about it. So..."
"Oh." He sounded disappointed. "We could resched--"
"Would you like to come?" I interrupted.
"Excuse me?"
"To dinner. With us. Then we could go back your house ... or mine. I mean to talk. About our business ... talk." I cringed and looked at the ceiling in despair.
"Sure," said Will. "It would be my pleasure. I thought you were going to cancel on me. What time should I pick you up?"
"I'll pick you up," I said, finally recovering my wits. "About 5:30."
I hung up and banged my head against the wall.
Lizzy! Blithering idiot!
"This one?" I asked. "Or this?"
Sitting on my bed, Jen shook her head. "Either would be fine, Lizzy. Or anything you've already picked out."
I darted back into my closet. "Or this?" I held up a red shirtdress.
Jen threw up her hands. "Yes. Wear that, Lizzy."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! You're going to be late."
I hurriedly slipped into the dress and a pair of black slingbacks, added a gold necklace and earrings, and managed to semi-tame my hair by pulling the sides back into a barrette. I dashed into the hall after Jen. "Okay?" I asked.
"Lovely." she said. "Are you sure you've got time to get the flowers? Bing and I can stop after he picks me up, if you want."
"I'll get 'em. Okay. I'm set." I smoothed my skirt, tipped up my chin, and prepared a graceful exit from the apartment. "Damn! Jen, where's my keys?"
Colin cornered me as I waited in line to pay for my carnation arrangement. "Very nice." He nodded in approval.
"Uh-huh," I said, thinking he meant the flowers, until I saw him give me another appreciative once-over.
"Relax, Liz. It's just your family and a quiet little dinner. And then you two can get on to your ... business." Chuckling, he started to go.
"Wait!" I caught him by the tie. "Colin..."
"Yes?" he prompted.
"Carol Ann..."
"Don't worry about her."
"No, I know ... it's different now. She said -- well..."
"Liz." Colin nudged me gently. The cashier, one of Lynda's friends, had already rung up my flowers and was giving me a look of bored disgust.
"Oh. Sorry." I fumbled with my purse and handed her a bill. Rolling her eyes, the cashier gave me the change.
"You left these at the register," Colin said as he walked with me towards the door.
I took the bunch of flowers. "Thanks."
"So, what happened?"
"She said ... he loves me?" I looked for an answer in Colin's face.
He frowned.
"I mean ... she's been really nice to me lately. She's going out with Richard Prescott, you know." Colin was still frowning. "She gave me chocolate..."
He stopped and shook his head. "I don't trust it," he said slowly.
"Colin!"
He looked down at me thoughtfully. "You want him to be in love with you?"
"Yes. Well, no ... well, I mean not no, but not yes ... but not indifferent. I mean, it doesn't not matter, but..."
"But you just don't know, right?"
"Well..."
"Look, Lizzy, just be careful and take it slow. This Carol Ann thing is just too weird. Seriously, I can't understand it. She said he loved you? It's bizarre. I mean, I wouldn't even say that." I suppose I must have looked rather crestfallen, because then he added "He's ... fascinated. Yes, that's what I would call it. He's used to getting women easy, and you sure haven't been. He likes the change ... and the chase. The challenge."
I suppose I must be disappointed, for I shot back sarcastically -- "Three alliterations does not a poet make, Wordsworth" -- but I can't imagine why. I thought about how casual he had been last week when he first asked me about his business proposition, and then again of the phone Monday.
Colin bent down and kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Good luck."
"Thanks for coming," I said as Will got into my car. "Sorry about the change of plans..."
"No, no, my pleasure. I hope your mother doesn't mind another person?"
"Hardly," I said, recalling my mother's ecstasy. "She was quite delighted. Fresh meat." Will glanced at me. "I mean," I corrected, blushing, "Mom is very hospitable. She's never had you over for dinner, so she's excited. You're uninitiated." Another look. "To her cooking," I stammered lamely.
Yikes! When has it ever taken this long to drive through a few neighborhoods? It isn't exactly that innuendo-riddled conversation is foreign to me; in my way, I suppose I'm nearly as fond of flirting as even Colin. The difference is usually it's intentional. And right now it is so very much not. This was so ridiculous; with the opposite sex, I was so accustomed to being completely calm, cool, and collected ... and in control. Now, I couldn't shake the feeling of everything spinning out of my grasp. My confrontation with Lynda, curse her, must have shaken me more than I thought, I concluded finally. After all, this was just Will ... so what the hell had happened in the last few weeks? I decided to change the subject before I embarrassed myself further. "What's that?" I indicated a small box in his lap.
He shrugged. "Oh, well, I know Bing always brings flowers and I see so have you, so I picked up some chocolate rather than turning your parents' living room into a greenhouse. A family friend has a shop down in Bushnell's Basin. It's really quite good."
"Oh." Near the edge of the county, it wasn't a terribly long drive to the Basin, but it was a rather considerable trek just for a box of candy. "That was very thoughtful of you."
"Really, it was nothing," he replied. "Besides, my sister and cousin are being very nice to me since I brought them some pecan turtles."
"That's right, Lindsey did tell me your cousin is back. How is she?" While this was a safe diversion, I was also genuinely interested; Annie Wesley was such a sweet girl, if a little shy.
"Annie? Well ... relieved might sum it up best. I guess she had been unhappy with school for a long time. I've got to say, I could never really see her as a lawyer. She's going to come back to work for a while then go back to school, probably locally, she thinks. She wants to play with rocks," he said, smiling.
"Right, Annie was always good at science. I remember those great models and diagrams she did of High Falls and Letchworth Gorge when she was in Earth Science. Your sister did tell me she was considering geophysics. I can't think of anything more perfect for her." I pulled into my parents' driveway -- finally.
No. No no no no no. It couldn't be. But it was impossible to mistake. Already parked was my Uncle Phil's bright yellow Jetta. I turned to Will. "Well then. I guess you're going to meet more of my family than I expected."
My mother greeted us at the door, trying to let us in without letting the dog out. After some maneuvering, we managed to get the door closed behind us. Mom drew me aside as our huge Irish Setter hurled herself on Will. "He's very handsome, my dear," she whispered, to which I made a noncommittal noise. Then she called "Down, Auddie! No jump! Ah ... good girl. Come here, that's a good girl."
"Will, this is my mother, as you may have gathered. Mom, Willis Fitzdarcy. He's Lindsey's brother. And er. ... Will, this is Audit."
He raised his eyebrows and smiled politely. "My husband teaches accounting and business management courses. To him, the name was logical," my mother explained with a sigh. "Pete's best friend, a lawyer, has Auddie's brother -- Justice."
The clattering of paws on the wood floor preceded our two other dogs careening into the front hall. "Hey buddy, how ya been?" I scratched Darrowby, a beagle, behind his ears. Electra sniffed Will's shoes, then licked them, which he accepted with good grace.
"Hello," he said to the dog, bending down. "What is she?" he asked my mother.
"Ah, Electra. We're not sure -- got her from the shelter. We think part Border Collie, part terrier ... maybe a bit of something else." The doorbell rang.
The minute my mother opened the door for Kristen and her friend Steve, the two smaller dogs shot outside with delighted woofs. I managed to hang on to Audit, but she seems uninterested in venturing out into the cold air anyway. Somewhat to my surprise, Will joined Steve in chasing the dogs down the street and coaxing them back home.
Well, I thought idly as I hung up the coats, at least he's fulfilled my first criteria. He's nice to our dogs.
My mother beamed at the two men when they returned with our errant pets, and was profuse with her thanks and apologies. Will knelt down to rub Electra's stomach. "This little girl reminds me of the dog I had when I was a kid. She was a mutt too, along the terrier - Border collie lines, we thought. Maisie was such a sweetheart ... but we had to put her to sleep."
"Oh dear," said my mother, very distressed. "When I was a girl we had to do that when our Lab was hit by a car. I'll never forget that day."
Will smiled at her sadly. "Nor will I. Maisie wasn't hit, she had cancer. I was fourteen and my sister was only ten. I went with my dad to the vet, and Lindsey climbed up a tree in the backyard and stayed there all day long, crying."
Mom sat down next to him on the stairs. "When Lynda's gerbil Ernie died it was very sad, of course, but somehow it's so much worse when it's a dog. They're almost like people to me, in a way."
A rare flash of genuine appreciation sprang into his eyes. "With that, I must agree. I find them even easier than people, however. Dogs never demand clever conversation or insincere flattery, and clichéd as it is, they really are terribly loyal --"
The sound of a buzzer interrupted him, as my mother jumped to her feet. "Oh dear. The pies," she murmured, rushing off to the kitchen.
The rest of us shuffled into the living room. "Don't worry Abbie, I already got it," my father called, emerging from the kitchen. He turned and saw me. "Lizzy!" I hugged him, then introduced him to Will.
"Elizabeth!" Mom called from the kitchen. "I need your help!" I had no choice but to leave Will to fend for himself.
"You look very pretty, dear. Is he something special?" Mom looked at me hopefully as I closed the kitchen door behind me.
"No," I said firmly. "We're hardly even friends. Just work together, and he's Lindsey's brother and Bing's best friend."
"And Colin's," she added, with a smile.
"Mom..."
"All right dear, if that's what you say, I believe you."
I sighed. "What did you need help with, Mom?"
"Well ... really I just wanted to talk to you," she said, genuine innocence in the gray eyes only Jen had inherited. The rest of us have some sort of brown, from Dad. "You haven't seen anyone seriously for so long, Lizzy."
I groaned. My mother is devastatingly maternal. In her deep blue and white dress, with her brown hair tucked behind her ears neatly and her wide-eyed, kind face, she resembled the Madonna even more than usual. "Do we have to talk about it, Mommy?"
"Oh, Lizzy," she sighed. "All right. Did you see Jen yet? She's wearing that new ivory dress and looks so beautiful. She and Bing make such a good couple, I think. He's a very nice young man, isn't he?"
I agreed, then the sound of a guffaw made me remember what I had forgotten while ruminating about Will and the family dogs. "Mom," I said edgily, "why didn't you tell me Uncle Phil and Tina were coming tonight?"
She frowned. "I didn't really know they were, Lizzy, until yesterday. Well, you know Phil, he --"
"Invited himself over," I finished.
"Well really, Elizabeth, he's my brother. Of course he's welcome." But she looked doubtful.
"Oh God, what a spectacle," I muttered, slumping against the counter.
"Now Lizzy, that isn't very nice," my mother reproved me.
"Them and Lynda and Myra..."
My mother fixed me with a look. "So you are very concerned about what this young man thinks!" she exclaimed triumphantly, and sailed out of the kitchen before I could protest.
In the living room, Will was conversing with my father and Bing. Nearby, Kristy, Steve and Jen held a lively discussion. They tried to draw Myra in, but she seemed to prefer sulking in the corner. On the other side of the room, Lynda giggled and chattered with Tina, Uncle Phil's much younger trophy wife. Oh well. At least she's not sitting on Phil's lap...
Instead, he seemed to be hovering around the first group. Every time he tried to interject himself in the conversation, my father would reply with a cool dismissal.
I winced. I can't blame my dad for disliking Phil so much, but I wished he could be a little more gracious ... especially in company. Bing looked a bit befuddled by my father's rudeness to his brother-in-law. Will, on the other hand, clearly understood what my father was about and looked like he was trying to sum up Phil himself. Every reply he made to my uncle was polite, but terse to the extreme.
It isn't that Mom's younger brother is a drug dealer or child molester or spousal abuser or anything horrendous, but he's just so ... sleazy. Yep, that's definitely the word that fits best. I think that impression was sealed when he took Kristy and me to a program at the art museum. Phil tried to pass me off as ten to get the four-dollar discount, although I was just shy of my thirteenth birthday. After unsuccessfully trying to keep my protestations from the ears of the already dubious ticket taker, Phil lost his temper and provoked an altercation with the young man, and we were thrown out the museum. To top things off, my crush of three months, Jimmy Taylor, was standing two people behind us in line. I have never forgiven Phil for the embarrassment of that day.
Moving closer to the last group, I realized my first impression hadn't been quite right. I wouldn't quite call it "conversing" when Will averaged one word to my father's five and Bing's twenty. (I still refuse to include Uncle Phil in the discussion.) I joined Jen's group for a minute so I could keep an inconspicuous eye on what Will was up to.
I followed his eyes to Tina and Lynda, then strained my ears to make out their conversation. A few moments of eavesdropping told me that Tina was giving my youngest sister "dating" tips. Will looked, at best, disapproving, and at worst, shocked. Fantastic.....
I debated whether to join Dad, Bing, and Will, but my mother made the decision unnecessary by calling me to help her set out the dinner. And a dinner indeed it was; I had already glanced at the menu my mother posted on the refrigerator door: French, banana-pecan, and cranberry-orange-walnut breads, seafood soup, and salad to start; then roast beef, fresh green beans, rice pilaf, roasted new potatoes, and tomato slices as the main course; for dessert, key lime and apple pies with vanilla ice cream and mixed berries, and a cookie platter. Way to go, Mommy, I thought, as she called me into the kitchen again.
"You're gonna make someone explode, Mom," I said. "Wonder who it'll be this time?"
She handed me the tureen of soup with a humorous smile. "I'm thinking it's likely to be Jen's Bing. Very skinny -- I don't think there's anywhere for all that food to go."
"You'd be surprised," I warned. "Bing can pack it away almost as shockingly as Colin, and you know how skinny he is."
"Ah, speaking of him..." Mom pulled a tin down from a cupboard shelf. "Could you give these to him, please? He came into the store just last week looking for a present for his aunt, and I promised him some cookies."
"Really Mom, you spoil him more than your own daughters!"
"Of course. I didn't have to raise him," she chuckled, assembling the bread into neat rows on a platter, flanked by butter, margarine, and honey. "Really though, it's your father. He loves you all very much, and you know you're his favorite, but I think he misses having a son..."
She paused, some of the light leaving her face. I was silent. When I was about nine, Mom was expecting a boy. She miscarried six months into the pregnancy. My parents never had any more children after that; Lydia, born two years before, was the last.
Mom smiled again, as if to reassure me she was all right. Different as we are in most ways, I've found many things to admire in my mother. Life is so much easier now that we don't fight. Ages twelve to twenty-two, the less Mom and I were together the fonder of each other we were. Some how we managed to work things out. She's more tolerant of my eccentric notions, irreverent humor, and restless ways. I've become more patient and accommodating, and stopped flaunting my disregard of her wishes merely for the sake of being contrary. Maybe it's just maturity on my part, forbearance on hers, and a check on the stubbornness and tempers of us both. As I said, my mother and I are different in most ways ... but not all.
She gestured for me to follow her into the dining room with the soup. "All right, Lizzy, I'll make you a deal," she called over her shoulder. "When Jen and Bing give me grandchildren, I promise I'll spoil them more than Colin."
If we had been alone, I might have laughed. Instead, I was frozen with horror. I stopped short, causing the soup to slop over the edge of the tureen. Finally, I dared to look up. Bing, obviously pretending not to have heard, had his back to us, looking out the window. His ears were scarlet. Jen was leaning over the table lighting the candles, but I was sure her flush was caused by more than the flames.
And standing directly in front of me, tall and forbidding, was Will Fitzdarcy. I searched his face; his expression was set and unreadable. Swallowing, I took a step back, eyes locked with his. "Sorry." I glanced down. "Oh no. Sorry about your shoes." I set the soup down on the sideboard and fled to the kitchen. When I returned with a damp paper towel, Electra was licking the soup off the shoes. Will, oblivious to the terrier, stood as if rooted to the spot. Finding no words to improve the situation, I knelt down to attend to his shoes.
He took a step back. "Don't bother." He knelt and took the towel from me and I stood up, fighting back an insistent urge to swear. My mother, pouring the wine, was happily oblivious to the commotion she had caused. Then, just as I thought we might transition back to normalcy --
"Abigail! Have you got the nursery furniture picked out already? You know kids today, they'll be taking their sweet time." Uncle Phil sauntered in, then punched Bing in the arm and winked. "With some things, that is -- am I right?"
Bing looked mortified and knocked over a vase of chrysanthemums. My mother flushed. "Now really, Phil, you know it was just a joke."
"Sure, sis, but I bet you're getting damn eager for Jen to marry, eh? Especially after that little caper she pulled last January, eh?"
"Phillip Wayne Johanssen! If you persist in speaking of any of my children in this way, you are not welcome in this house." My mother's eyes flashed chillingly; her lips were set in a hard, thin line. With one look, any of us could have sensed long ago to just get out of the way. Her brother, who had known her twice as long as even my father had, continued without a qualm.
"Harold Randolph Dearborn the Third," he minced. Horrified, I threw a look at Jen. She was concentrating determinately on the candles, but her face had drained of color except for two hectic spots high on her cheeks which deepened as Phil went on: "Sure threw us all for loop there, Jenny! And three weeks before the wedding, whew. So his 2.3 million just wasn't enough?"
My mother flew in before Jen could reply. "You know it had nothing to do with the money. He was a nice enough young man, but Harold just wasn't good enough for my Jen."
Phil smirked. "Eh, you sure seemed to like him at the time, Abby."
My mother pushed her hair back from her forehead and frowned. "He seemed very charming and everything ... but really there isn't much to him. It's Jen's decision, and I'll thank you to leave that to her. This was nearly two years ago, Phillip. Must we still discuss it? All that matters is that Jen doesn't regret her decision, and she doesn't, do you dear?"
"No," said my older sister quietly, and left the room.
I felt wretched letting the scene escalate as I stood by, but when Mom is fighting with Uncle Phil, there is nothing anyone can do to improve the situation. Indeed, I had good reason to fear my intervention would only make things worse. I glanced helplessly at Bing, who was still standing by the window. He faced away from us, but his shoulders were tense and his fingers gripped the windowsill tightly. Now the entire back of his neck was brick red. Two years ago, my sister had been engaged to Harold Dearborn, state legislator, and the oldest son of a local wealthy businessman and a pedigreed socialite. Then at the last minute, Jen had called off the wedding, for reasons not even I knew in full.
Phil slouched against the table. "She never did tell us why, you know. Don't suppose she found him with another woman, do you? Hey, I heard Elliot Bath-Waters' oldest girl is marrying him. Irene, is it? You don't think she--"
"I ask you to stop speculating right now, Phillip. This has gone on too long already and is highly disrespectful to my daughter."
"Well geeze, Abby, I'm sorry, but you were sure happy enough to talk about him when they were engaged."
Phil's customary bluster and my mother's shrill fury had begun to attract the others still in the living room. Unfortunately, Lynda arrived first. "Hey, are you talking about that guy Jen was supposed to marry?"
"Lynda, shush," I hissed.
"I can't see why she didn't," my youngest sister went on, ignoring me with a flippant smile and addressing the entire room. "I mean, I bet Harry could have gotten me out of speeding tickets, don't you think? So he was kind of boring, but Lord, he was so rich! Jen should have married him -- Oh, sorry, Bing."
But Bing had already strode out of the room, nearly tripping over Will in his haste. Will... I had forgotten about him. He was still crouched on the floor, bending over his shoes, so expression was unreadable. I wasn't sure I would have wanted to read it if I could.
"That Harold guy?" said Tina. "He was even kinda cute, in a wimpy way, if you know what I mean."
"Lynda, please do not be so thoughtless," Mom snapped.
My sister shrugged. "Who cares? Bing already left. Besides, I'm sure he knows."
"That isn't the point. You must learn to control your impulses, young lady. You can be quite rude and it is unseemly in a girl of your age -- a young lady."
"Yeah, why?" Lynda retorted. "You just had a huge fight with Uncle Phil in front of company!"
"No, it wasn't a fight." Phil made light of the situation. My mother's lips tightened in displeasure. "You know, my big sister still likes to tell me what to do."
"That might be because you still need to be told," my father remarked dryly, coming into the room. I wondered how much of the argument he had heard. Steve and Kristy followed him, their uncomfortable expressions telling me they had caught at least a bit.
A deadly silence ensued. Finally, Steve asked jokingly, "So ... did we miss a big show?"
"Just stick around here a bit and you'll find more excitement than you asked for, Steven," Dad replied, still glaring at Phil. He noticed Will on the floor. "I'm afraid if you stay there you'll risk being run down by my chair when I pull it out, son," he said with amusement.
Will stood up, looking startled at being addressed in a way that could be construed as patronizing.
Dad touched me on the arm and whispered gently, "Jen and Bing out there?"
I nodded, and he poked his head through the door. "Were you able to find that pepper shaker, Jen?" he called tactfully. "You know your mother only likes using the matched set."
The revelation came to me as I turned to pass Kristy the dish of rice. I caught a glimpse of Jen in an unguarded moment that made me turn my head back to confirm what I had seen and ... oh my goodness. My sister was in love.
Placid, serene, reserved Jen. So the old cliché was true; still waters really did run deep. I had always known my older sister to have both profound convictions and deep feelings for those she cared about, but thus far, had only witnessed the love she felt for family and friends. The look she had given Bing was one of purely romantic, even passionate love. And I knew damn well it was a look she had never given Harold Randolph Dearborn the Third.
She never told me. When she spoke of Bing, she used words like affection and admiration and friendship. I wondered what else there was about my sister I didn't know.
I thought Jen told me everything. Even when she ended her engagement without explanation, I simply thought it must be because there was nothing to tell. How could there be, if I didn't know? She was my best friend. My older sister by a scant twenty months. I told her everything; she told me everything. That was the way it was.
And now it wasn't.
Colin's dad, a pediatrician, has a woodworking hobby he turns to good use by making toys for hospitals and daycare centers as well as his own reception office. When we were younger, he would let us help him, usually painting and sanding, and he demonstrated his various tools. I discovered my favorite when I was nine. It was a long metal rectangle with a glass tube holding neon green liquid running through the center. Dr. Wesley called it a level, and showed me how to put it on a flat surface and see if the bubble fit between two little black lines. If it did, you knew if was really a plane surface. He got no further help from us that day, for Colin and I spent the rest of the afternoon running around the garage and backyard, checking for levelness. To our disgust, not one square foot of the Wesley driveway was truly flat.
I liked stirring things up. A little regulated commotion around me made life interesting. But for myself, the little bubble was always between the black lines. I liked watching the world and all its insanity and inanity swirl around me, but it stopped there. My head was always level, even if my emotions had a tendency to seesaw. It was called equilibrium, and it kept me grounded and in control.
And now, for the second time in as many weeks, my balance had been knocked off kilter. Everything I had been sure of seemed doubtful now, if I couldn't be sure of Jen. She didn't tell me everything...
For the second time in as many weeks. The phrase had come to me instinctually, but now I realized if there was a second, so must there be a first. The low voice of the tall man sitting next to me told me what it was. If Jen had set my level on its head, Will was twirling it around his finger.
"Hey, Liz, are you there?" I returned to the present at the sound of my youngest sister's voice. "What, were you fantasizing, Lizzy? I bet you were." Lynda smirked. The unmistakable feeling of a hot blush suffused my cheeks.
I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to bring myself to look at Will, but it didn't matter. My concentration was fixed upon another object ... who was still wearing a smug expression even as my father reprimanded her. I was becoming increasingly aware of a side of my youngest sister that I didn't like.
I could accept the fact that Lynda wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. She had never been academic, not in the least. What I couldn't accept were the spiteful and injurious remarks she voiced under the guise of naive thoughtlessness. When she was fourteen, it was irksome, but we brushed it off as the result of immaturity and a heedless nature. At nineteen it was, I was convinced, something else. Lynda's outward display of ditzyness concealed a shrewd, calculating, and decidedly malicious mind.
"Don't give me that look," Lynda hissed across the table.
A wave of rage passed over me that I had not experienced -- at least towards her -- since my senior year of high school when Lynda accidentally, she claimed, deleted my fifteen page economics thesis while trying to install a game. She knew exactly what she was about. I took a sip of water, and the anger cooled to a cold, sick feeling of premonition. I didn't understand the cause of this spite or just what it might come to, but I was worried.
"I know that it is shady at best and highly illegal if I surmise correctly the things you've neglected to tell me."
The second I heard it, I knew Dad's curt retort was directed at Uncle Phil, even though I hadn't the slightest notion of the conversation that had preceded it. For Jen's sake, I [rayed the discussion would end there.
I hoped for too much, of course. "Come on, Pete, I'm sure you know all the tricks of the trade. Can't that kind of thing be eased over pretty well?"
"Eased over, Phil? In the accounting profession we tend to refer to such an action as 'cooking the books.' It's such a more ... vivid description, don't you agree?"
"No, no, nothing like that," Phil blustered. "It's just a way of cutting through the formalities, you know?"
"Yes, I know all about your ways of 'cutting through the formalities' and I refuse to have anything to do with them."
"Peter, please," my mother urged.
He turned to her. "Yes, Abbie?" I winced at his sharp tone. "And you would suggest that I go along with your brother's crackpot schemes? Really, I thought the mutual funds and IRAs were going enough for us, my dear."
"All I'm saying is please don't discuss it now ... here..."
"Yes, Abigail is right," my father said in the brisk voice he used at the lectern. "Phillip, next time you wish to embark on a futile mission to enlist my aid in your shifty machinations, please take care not to do it in front of the guests. They might find themselves in an uncomfortable position should they be called to testify, you know. Might think it's inhospitable."
Lynda's laughter, boisterous and jarring, cut through the silence.
"Lynda, it's not funny," Mom said tensely.
I stared at my plate. I know Dad's been pushed to his limit by Phil, but this is just unacceptable. Still, he refused to drop it.
"What do you think, Kristen?"
"Um, about what, Dad?" Clearly Kristy didn't want to be pulled into the dispute.
"Come on, sweetie, I know you're not getting your MBA for nothing." His voice was gentle, reassuring.
"Oh, come on Pete, what does she know?" Phil interrupted.
"My daughter has a degree in management studies from Syracuse University," my father replied coolly, patronizingly. "She has taken a number of accounting and business law courses, earning very high marks in them all. She is currently pursing her Masters in Business Administration from the Rochester Institute of Technology. You may have heard the name; it is the place of my employment. I instruct various courses in our business program, particularly accounting. I believe Kristen is well qualified to evaluate the matter ... as am I."
"I do believe you'd sic the FBI on me if you had the chance, wouldn't you, Pete?" Phil asked lightly.
"If you are saying I place integrity over any misbegotten notions of loyalty, yes, I am not ashamed to say that is true."
"I agree with Mr. Benedict," Will spoke up, surprising everyone. "One should not sacrifice his principles in the name of ties of blood or affection. Nor should he forgive more readily for those same reasons."
"Thank you for your opinion, Mr. Fitzdarcy," said my mother tightly. "But this is a family affair, and I would thank you the let it remain so."
Startled, Will opened his mouth again. I stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Will," I said quietly, "shut up."
No one felt much like speaking for the rest of dinner, and we could hardly do justice to my mother's excellent dessert. Jen and Bing managed to escape quickly, probably to Bing's place. Phil at least had the good sense to leave after them. Kristy and Steve left for a party. Myra, who had hardly said a word all night, suddenly spoke up.
"Will, would you mind taking a look at my computer? It's been having some problems lately, but I'm not sure if I need to take it into the shop..."
Will was surprised, but assented. I wandered back to the living room and slumped into a chair, feeling miserable. It had been the dinner from hell, and of all people to be present ... I hoped that Bing, at least, hadn't been too adversely affected. From the kitchen I could hear Lynda and Mom arguing. Dad walked into the room, carrying a book, and sat down across from me.
I refused to look at him, still angry. He watched me for a moment, then nodded, understand I didn't want to talk to him. All I wanted to do was go home, cry, take a hot shower and go to bed. But no. I still had that meeting with Will. It had better be worth it, I thought, as I shook some Motrin out of the bottle to relieve my throbbing head. Swallowing them down, I grimly formed a resolution. I'd make it worth it.
I heard feet descending the stairs and stood up. Will came into the room and looked at me. "All set? Myra ... is having some trouble with her contacts, so she's still up there."
I nodded, fully understanding contact trouble. Will and my father exchanged a brief farewell. We went into the kitchen. "Thank you for having me, Mrs. Benedict. Your cooking is excellent."
My mother replied politely, though she still looked slightly displeased with him.
We got into my car and I started for home. Yes. I'm definitely going to have to make this worth it.
Part 20: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
You could say I lost my belief in the holy Church
You could say I lost my sense of direction
You could say all of this and worse, but
There'd be nothing left for me to do
You could say I lost my faith the people on TV
You could say I lost my belief in our politicians
They all seem like game show hosts to me
There'd be nothing left for me to do
But everytime I close my eyes I see your face
That didn't go from a blessing to a curse
I never saw no military solution
That didn't didn't always end up as something worse, but
If I ever lose my faith in you
There'd be nothing left for me to do
If I ever lose my faith
If I ever lose my faith in you... Part 21: Meet my Family...
© 2001 Copyright held by the author.