Beginning, Previous Section, Section IV, Next Section

Chapter 10

Edward Ferrars woke up in the morning and smiled. He was still in love, so how could he not wake up with a smile? Sure, he hadn't actually told Elinor Dashwood about the change in his feelings towards her, or his fianc‚e Lucy Steele for that matter, but that didn't change the inherent beauty of his first thoughts. There existed a girl out there that he was madly in love with. She was smart, funny, kind, and beautiful. And in one more day she'll be back in the city, and he would be able to start trying to win her over. Who knows, maybe he would even succeed.

Lucy had said that Elinor was going to be staying at the hotel with the others, but Elinor did still live with Edward. She would have to come home eventually. But Edward couldn't wait that long. He knew she wasn't exactly dying to talk to him; she still hadn't called. If he tried to arrange a meeting in advance, that would only give Elinor time to weasel her way out of it and give Lucy time to find out and interfere somehow. So he would have to surprise Elinor at some time when she would be alone.

But how? He couldn't very well as Brandon for help. Brandon would know more details than he did about the Dashwoods' visit, but Brandon wouldn't do anything that could possibly be interpreted as betraying Marianne Dashwood's trust. Maybe Edward could get Robert to talk to Lucy and find out something about Elinor's plans that way... His little brother had to have some fraternal obligation to help him out, and no one would suspect anything if Robert asked about Elinor.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his houseguests out in the living room, also getting up. He had gone to bed hearing the two of them arguing over who would get to sleep on the sofa. From the way they sounded, one would think that sleeping on the floor was a much more desirable thing from the way they kept on trying to force each other to take the more comfortable option. Edward put on some clothes and went out of his room. Apparently Robert had won the argument last night; that is, Brandon was on the sofa bed and Robert was triumphantly stretching out his sore back muscles.

Time for breakfast for three. Edward then remembered the state of the kitchen. He had meant to go to the grocery store the night before, but Robert's arrival had made him forget his plans. Without Elinor around to remind him when they needed to go shopping, he was always forgetting to buy food until he was completely out of everything, like today. He made his apologies, then went out early to get fresh bagels for his houseguests. When he got back, he found his brother and Brandon both sitting at the kitchen patiently waiting for him.

Brandon was dressed as quietly respectably as ever. During this visit, Edward had found out that Brandon was finishing law school at Georgetown University, precisely the quietly respectable fate Edward would imagine for him. He sat reading the front page of the New York Times. There was another article about the major recent Mafia trial, which Edward had been reluctantly hearing snippets about at the Corleones'. Edward intentionally pretended not to see the article and instead asked Brandon about another article on a different part of the page.

His other houseguest, his little brother Robert, looked remarkably out of place in his usual plaid short-sleeves dress shirt and jeans. In Sussex, PA, it was an optimal combination of formality and casualness that suited the town's only electrician. It wasn't so much his clothes that shouted "out of place tourist" as, well, his entire self.

No one in Sussex, PA, ever had a hard time telling apart the Ferrars brothers. They may both have always had the same yellow-orange hair and they were both about the same height and close to the same age, but Edward always looked like a strong breeze could blow him away. Not so Robert Ferrars. He was always an outdoorsman and could still scale a fish or take a multi-day hike in the mountains at a moment's notice. Sitting at Edward's table skimming the sports page, he looked like he belonged outside fixing something. His arms looked too strong to be holding the flimsy newspaper and a small cup of coffee. His face was too tanned from working on the power lines after the last summer storm that went through Sussex. He didn't belong there.

Both of Edward's houseguests graciously accepted the bagels and ate their food in silence. Edward made himself a pot of tea and looked over the Arts section of the newspaper. He wasn't used to sharing a paper with anyone other than Elinor, and she always gave him the front page whenever he actually would sit down at the table with her instead of eating while at his computer. The Arts section wasn't nearly as interesting as the current political state in Turkey.

"So, Edward, where is your roommate?" Robert asked. It was an innocent, logical question, but still a topic that Edward would prefer not to elaborate on.

"My... roommate?" Edward asked, glancing at Brandon. Well, if he had to make the explanation, he might as well make it in front of Brandon. "She's not here. She's in Washington with her family."

"She?" Robert repeated. Then he smiled and said, "Elinor Dashwood, right? Oh boy, is Lucy going to kill you."

Brandon did a very good job at keeping silent, though his eyebrows did move, showing that Robert's reaction did take him by surprise. He must not have been told by Marianne about all the lies Edward had been telling his friends and family in Sussex about his living arrangements. Edward shrugged and said, "Lucy knows about Elinor."

"And she's OK with it?" Robert asked incredulously.

Edward shrugged again. "We haven't exactly directly discussed it, so... I guess she's all right with it. She hasn't come charging into here demanding that I move out at once." He tried to make it sound like a joke but didn't quite succeed.

"It's a nice place," Robert said, looking around the kitchen. "Elinor has excellent taste."

Edward nodded, looking down at his tea with particular interest. Elinor had excellent taste, and Edward would gladly be guided by it for the rest of his life. But he didn't need to announce his ardent love for Elinor Dashwood in front of Brandon and Robert, or at least not yet. They would probably figure out soon enough.

Robert's next question: "So, Edward, what are we doing for lunch?"

"Lunch?" Edward asked. He hadn't realized he was under any obligation to feed his little brother. "Actually, I already have plans. I have to meet some friends."

"I'd love to meet your friends," Robert said. "Let me come."

These weren't exactly the sort of friends Edward would relish in introducing to his little brother. Constanzia Corleone was a nice girl, but there was no need to get Robert caught up in the Corleone muddle.

"I'd be curious to see your friends, too," Brandon said, as if that were the most ordinary thing in the world. Yesterday Brandon was interrogating him about Lucy Steele, and today he was curious about Edward's social circle? To Robert, Brandon explained, "I've been spending the last few days visiting my sister Eliza, but I think she has had enough of my company for the present. I promised her I would spend the day seeing the city."

"That's exactly what I want to do," Robert said, "see the city."

"Then we should go together," Brandon said. Edward thought that the arrangement had to be one of the most random arrangements possible - the always proper and respectable Christopher Brandon and small-town-boy Robbie Ferrars playing tourist together. What on earth would they have to talk about? How could they possibly be interested in seeing the same sites?

"And we'll meet Edward and his friends for lunch," Robert said conclusively.

Edward was still too surprised to think of a very good excuse for why his two houseguests should not join him for lunch. "I wouldn't want to force my friends onto Connie and Carlos," he said. "How about ... tomorrow for lunch?"

Of course that was less acceptable; Wednesday was when the Dashwoods and Lucy would be coming into the city.

"Dinner tonight?" Edward asked.

"We should get to Allenham early so we can get a good table for Eliza's performance," Brandon said, so dinner was out. "Robert, you'll come, right? My sister is a singer at a jazz club."

Robert asked more questions about Eliza, and, as hard as it was to believe, he seemed to be getting on very well with Brandon. Edward tried a few more times to convince them that they wouldn't want to eat lunch with him, but somehow his houseguests seemed perversely determined to eat with him. It was darn inconvenient, but Edward would be late to work if he didn't give in, so he arranged a meeting time. This wasn't how he had planned things. No one had better ever accuse him of being a bad host.

On his way out of the apartment, the doorbell rang. It was a delivery for him, a package from his publisher, Waechter, Talvela, and Waechter. He didn't even close the door behind him while he ripped off the paper on the package. They were here! Six advanced copies of his book.

Edward looked at the cover. His only request had been that the cover be green, and his request had not been ignored. It was a forest green. There was some abstract cover art with what looked to be a man, a woman, and a cat. He liked it, especially because it was all his. His book. His cover art. His novel.

Brandon and Robert noticed his preoccupation with his package. "What is it?" Robert asked. "Some books?"

"My book," Edward said, still looking at the cover. "It's being released next month. They're looking to get it reviewed at some literary papers."

"Like the New York Times book review?" Robert asked. Edward had received the New York Times book review in the mail every week since he was in high school. Maybe one day one of his books would get a nice one page review in the front few pages, or maybe a mention in the Books in Brief page. Not yet. He didn't mind, though; he was holding his very own book in his hands. That was enough of a success as he wanted at present.

"No, only little papers you and I have never heard of," Edward said.

"Can I read your book?" Brandon asked, looking at the little pile of books. "I also happen to know people around Washington..."

Edward was still in his book-induced euphoria. If Brandon wanted to read his book, let him. Edward just needed one copy to send to his mother, one copy for the Corleones-a promise he had made a few weeks ago, one copy for Elinor, and one copy for himself to stare at. He handed Brandon one and put one with his things for work. He would show it to Henry and Catherine and give it to Vito Corleone that afternoon.

Henry sat alone in the showroom waiting for the first customer of the day. Until then, he was amusing himself by playing "Happy Birthday" on one of the Steinways out front. The back door of the showroom opened and Henry turned to see who it was. It was too early for John Thorpe to be in, and Catherine rarely stepped into the front room when she was at work. So that meant it was either Edward popping in to say hi or the General to yell at him.

Unfortunately, it was the latter. The General didn't look unhappy, at least. He didn't even cringe at Henry's playing. The first time he had heard Henry playing "Three Blind Mice" on a piano he had tried to forbid Henry from ever playing again when he was in the showroom, but he grudgingly admitted that Henry did have a lot of time to kill sitting out front waiting for customers to show up. Besides, it made for an interesting conversation starter when customers did come in.

"Someone's birthday?" the General asked.

"No," Henry said quickly. "Just trying something new."

"You were playing 'Jingle Bells' earlier, weren't you?"

"Yes."

The General did not have to point out to Henry that it was August. Henry supposed his repertoire could stand to be expanded. Maybe some day he would get Catherine to teach him something new to play, or maybe get her to show him how to really play the piano rather than just tap out simple tunes he remembered from elementary school music class.

"I told you yesterday that the Corleones are interested in a new piano," the General said and Henry nodded his head. "What's the best we have?"

"It would be a shame to let them have it, but we have just got in that beautiful new Mason and Hamlin grand," Henry said, pointing to the beautiful and very pricey instrument in the back corner. "Edward says they seem to hardly use the three pianos they already have, though, so maybe it would be better to point them towards something else..."

"You think that's the best instrument we have right now?"

"I can hardly keep Catherine away from it," Henry said. He had intentionally put it a little to the back of the store so it would attract less attention. He didn't often get very sentimentally attached to pianos, but Catherine seemed to love that one in particular. Of course he wasn't going to go off and give her a $69,000 instrument as a present, and she wasn't exactly going to be buying it with her weekly allowance, so they would eventually sell the piano. But he was in no hurry to see it leave the showroom quite yet.

"Catherine has good taste, yes," the General said, nodding his head. Everyone in the shop had heard Catherine playing the pianos after the shop closed in the evening. Henry liked to stay and listen, and she did always have something interesting to say about the instruments she tried.

"But... the Blthner, they don't have one of those," Henry said, pointing to another piano closer to the front. "It's also very, very good." Catherine had said that their two Blthners were fit for queens to play, but the Mason and Hamlin was more suited to a simple girl like her. Henry was much more willing to let the Corleones have the queens' pianos than Catherine's.

"We paid a fortune for those Blthners, didn't we?" the General asked. "More than that Mason and Hamlin?"

Henry nodded. "And I remember you used to be very fond of Blthners, too, right? When you were performing?"

It could never hurt to appeal to his father's vanity, and Henry knew the General was still proud of his days as a musician. The General smiled, no doubt thinking of recitals of yesteryear, and said, "I'll tell the Don about the Blthners and the Mason and Hamlin."

"Will he be coming here himself?" Henry asked. He was curious to see the infamous Vito Corleone, though at the same time having to find pianos to please the Don might not be a very pleasant experience.

"No, no, he said he'd send a piano technician to look them over this afternoon," the General said. "The Don is not musical himself, but he is very capable of finding other people to do things for him. He is a very important man."

"He's sending his man here this afternoon?" Henry asked. "I'll see that the Blthners are out front and looking good."

"And that other one, too," the General said, pointing to the Mason and Hamlin piano. Henry nodded. But that didn't mean that he wasn't allowed to spend some extra time on the other pianos and make certain comments that may lead the technician to believe that one of the Blthners may be a more ideal choice.

The meeting place was a crowded little restaurant by Columbia University. Constanzia and Carlos were already there sitting with another couple when Edward and his friends came in. They all made room for the newcomers and Edward ordered a cup of tea while Robert and Brandon looked over the menu for what they wanted.

"By the way, I promised to take these guys out to lunch, so I hope you don't mind," Edward said, "My brother Robert and my friend Chris Brandon."

Connie smiled and said, "Your brother? Of course, the hair. Nice to meet both of you. I'm Constanzia Corleone and this Sonny, Ellie Tilney, and Carlos Titanya."

"How do you do?" Edward said, looking at the last mentioned man, the undesirable Carlos. He looked Italian like the most of the Corleone family connections - that couldn't be the reason why Michael disapproved. He was very clean-cut and looked respectable, as any medical student would be. He perhaps wasn't dressed in the wealthiest manner, but he seemed practical and down to earth. Perhaps Michael was concerned that he was too respectable and wouldn't take well to the family business. He looked crazy about Connie, though, and she was obviously crazy about him, so Edward decided that he liked him, too.

As for the other couple, and they no doubt were a couple, holding hands across the table and hardly looking like they noticed anyone else there, they looked harmless enough. The only problem with them would be the age difference - Sonny looked like he was about five years older than his girl. He was about the same age as Carlos, much taller though, closer to Edward's height, and he had boyish floppy dark curls in front of his face and gave off a general aura of good cheer and friendliness. He looked like a carefree student, probably also at Columbia, and his fashionably dressed girlfriend Ellie Tilney -

"Tilney?" Edward repeated. "Ellie, you aren't, by chance, related to Henry and the General? Little Eleanor?"

She looked away from Sonny for probably the first time since Edward and his companions came in and looked him over. She smiled and said, "You're Henry's friend Edward. I remember you."

Edward hadn't seen Henry's little sister since Henry and he were starting college, over seven years ago. He vaguely knew that Ellie and the General were currently estranged because of Ellie's boyfriend-now that Edward know who the boyfriend was, it wasn't a big surprise-but he hadn't actually seen Ellie in ages.

"I now work at your father's shop," Edward said. "I'm sorry about your, well, problems with the General."

She nervously looked away, squeezing Sonny's hand. Sonny turned to Edward and said, "Thank you, my friend. I'm afraid my friend Carlos and I have that in common: we seem destined not to make good first impressions I suppose."

"Why?" Robert asked. Edward wished he had some way of getting his brother to be quiet, but Sonny looked like a nice enough guy, and Edward remembered Ellie Tilney being a very sweet, quiet girl.

Sonny looked happy to tell his story. He began, "It started out as just a disagreement with my family. I did not want to follow in my father's footsteps and become like him. The old man got mad, I said some things about his chosen profession that I should not have said, suddenly I'm out on the streets. No good comes of that, I get stuck in jail for a bit, say more things I shouldn't have said to my dad during the trial, get off, and then I'm out on my own, cast off from the family. And I meet this beautiful girl here. I meet her father and what do I find? Someone just like my father, trying to tell my Ellie what to do and how to live her life. He didn't like me so he told Ellie to stop seeing me. No one tells Ellie what do. So of course I tell him off. And so does Ellie. And here we are."

Edward nodded in what he hoped was a sympathetic manner while Robert and Brandon ordered lunch. He just ordered a piece of apple pie. If he was going to go through with talking to Vito Corleone that afternoon about Carlos, he was allowed to be innutritious and give himself tooth decay. Then he noticed that Sonny looked vaguely familiar, the position of his eyes and something about the way he moved his hands.

"Wait -" Edward said. "Sonny, you aren't related to -" he sort of pointed to Constanzia.

Both Constanzia and Sonny smiled, in the same exact way that made the family resemblance obvious to both newcomers.

"Of course they're related," Robert said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I thought you said you were friends with Constance's family."

"You've heard us talk about Sonny, I know you have," Connie said. "Mama gave Edward one of your suits, Sonny."

"I thought..." Edward began, then thought it wise not to say anything else. Sonny wasn't dead? Then why did everyone treat him like he was?

"Connie says that Mama and Papa and even Michael like you," Sonny said. "They're not too hot about me. But don't tell them that you saw me or that Connie sees me. She's been the only one of the family who's stood by me. Then she met Carlos and found out that Carlos and I are great friends."

"Sonny always has more interesting dilemmas than I have," Carlos said. It was his turn to tell his sad, sad story to their guests. "Constanzia's brother thinks that my temper is unreliable or something like that, as if I would ever let any harm come to Connie."

"My temper is ten times worse than yours," Sonny said. "You're an angel, Carlos. Edward, he's an angel. Tell Papa that."

That appeared to be the theme of the rest of the lunch. Everyone had something nice to say about Carlos, especially Connie. Edward, Brandon, and Robert respectfully nodded and agreed. Edward hadn't expected the lunch to progress so normally. There was hardly any ground for Brandon and Robert to suspect that the Corleones were not as ordinary as they seemed. Of course Edward knew that there was much more to Connie and Sonny's family than they talked about during lunch, but at least he didn't have to worry about Robert and Brandon asking awkward questions and testing just how hot-tempered Sonny Corleone really was.

While they were paying the bill, Connie said to Edward, "You see Carlos, you see he isn't a monster. He'll take care of me. We want to get married. You'll talk to Papa, won't you?"

"I would go myself but Connie says that her father will listen to you," Carlos said with a weak smile. Edward could tell that they thought that he really was their only hope. What did Vito say? Look after Constanzia? Well, he would do that. He would see that she was happy. And she would be happy with Carlos.

"Sure, I'll help," Edward said, hoping that he sounded convincing. "And I won't say anything about meeting you, Sonny. Don't worry."

The others around the table immediately began to thank him. Even Robert and Brandon looked relieved that Edward was being such a good friend to these kind people. But they wouldn't be the ones who had to face Connie's father.

Later in the afternoon Edward was looking at the Corleones' Steinway again, trying to understand what was wrong with it now. He was convinced that it was perfectly fine. He had given it a proper tuning the week before, even though he didn't think it needed it at the time. But no matter how he protested Mrs. Corleone would insist that she would pay, whether it was necessary or not, and that it would make her happy just to know that he had looked at it all again.

Vito Corleone came into the room, followed by one of his many tall and large colleagues. "Carmella says you have an advanced copy of your book," he said gruffly. "You remembered to bring it, right?"

Edward had tried every excuse he could think of to not allow the Corleones to get involved with his book, but he had ran out of ideas. He had sworn to Mrs. Corleone that he would give them a copy of his book the day he got an advanced copy, and he knew she would find out somehow if he did otherwise. He opened his bag and took out a copy of Bildungsroman Blues, and obediently gave it to the Don.

"I hope you like it," Edward said.

Vito opened it to the first page and skimmed the first paragraph. "Good opening, kid. I'll let you know whether or not the rest of the book lives up to it." With that, he turned around and began to leave, still followed by the other big man.

"Excuse me, sir," Edward said. He wouldn't get a better opportunity than this to talk to Don Corleone about his daughter. "I wanted to talk to you about something, something personal."

"Personal?" the Don asked, looking up from the book.

"About Constanzia," Edward said, giving a meaningful glance towards Vito's companion.

Vito nodded and told the other man to leave them together. Then he closed the door to the music room and said, "Yes, my friend?"

"You know how you asked me to kind of look after her and all," Edward began nervously.

"Yes, yes, get to the point."

"I met someone very special to her, someone she loves deeply, someone that I understand you don't approve of," Edward said. "You can probably guess what I'm talking about."

"Carlos?" the Don asked, his eyes already beginning to get their super-scary look at the mere mention of him. "Michael told me about him and told him that he's no good."

"He's a doctor, or he's going to be," Edward said. "He's a nice guy. I like him."

"You'd like anyone, Candles," Vito said with a wave of his hand. "That's because you're soft. That's not a bad thing, you need people of all types, but it doesn't make you a very good judge of character. My boy Michael, however, is hard as nails. Not a soft part in him."

"Maybe that's why he didn't see what I did," Edward said with more energy and enthusiasm than he expected he would have in broaching this subject. "You look at Carlos and you just see an ordinary medical student, but if you're a big softie like me, as you say, you see that he thinks all the world of your daughter."

"Hmm?" Vito said in a non-committal way. "She put you up to this?"

"She wanted me to meet him and to talk to you about him. And I did and I am. I think you should at least meet him yourself. Sure, he wouldn't fit in with your, you know, business, but he's a good guy."

"A good guy?" the Don repeated. "I'll remember you said that." Edward didn't think that he was taking him very seriously, but he didn't know how better to present Carlos and Constanzia's case. And the Don wasn't even mad at him. So he achieved absolutely nothing, beyond showing that he's a big softie. But softies weren't gangsters; perhaps this would be good.

Carmella came in after the Don left. "You won't mind if I read your book, too, once that Vito is finished with it?" she asked. "I'd love to see what comes out of that wild head of yours, Eduardo."

Having said what he had to say, Edward was now resigned to the entire family reading it, so he said something to the effect that she could read it, as well as Constanzia, Michael, Fredo, Clemenza, Al Neri, and a few other unfamiliar names that she listed.

"We've all been waiting for so long to see this novel of yours," she explained. "And if Vito likes it, we'll all be able to share in your success. I love to see my friends succeed, especially if they succeeded thanks to any help the Corleone family was able to give them."

Edward tried to smile, and instead decided to concentrate on finishing looking at the Steinway as quickly as possible.

Catherine couldn't believe it; Henry actually asked her out on a date. OK, maybe he didn't realize that it was a date, but it was enough of a date to keep her happy. Ellie would be there, so it wasn't a real date with just the two of them, but food would be consumed, so that was sort of a dinner date. Apparently Henry often went out to dinner with Ellie, but this was the first time he had ever invited a friend to join them.

She took extra care in getting dressed. She knew they weren't going to a real fancy place so she couldn't wear her favorite blue dress again or the pantsuit Henry helped her pick out for her audition, but it was still a near dinner date with Henry Tilney so she couldn't wear just anything. She finally found a shade of khaki that best suited her and a short-sleeve shirt that went well with her natural coloring because she heard Henry say that he didn't like young women to wear make-up when they were still pretty. If she put on make-up it would be a sign to him that she wasn't really pretty, and she didn't want him to think that. She wanted him to think she was charming and delightful and sophisticated, but of course he wouldn't. He knew her too well for her to play any sort of games with him. She just had to hope that he would like her enough as she was.

The Tilneys were already seated by the time she got to the restaurant, about ten minutes late.

"Sorry for getting here so late, I hope I didn't inconvenience you," Catherine said, taking her seat at the circular table, a mere 120 degrees from Henry. "I was going to take a taxi but then I remembered that there was a subway stop by here and I thought that I should save money from just buying the subway token, you know, but then you never know when the right train is going to come. I hate that."

"You aren't too late at all," Ellie said.

"Fashionably late, I'd say," Henry suggested.

"But late, you think so?" Catherine asked, ready to start profusely apologizing again. "I'm sorry. I won't be late again -"

"You don't apologize for being fashionably late," Henry said with a smile. "It produces the effect of 'I'm so terribly important that I nearly forgot about this little thing I promised you to go to, but now you should be honored that I'm here.'"

The girls snickered, but then Catherine recollected herself and said, "Oh, no, I didn't mean that at all. You know there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be than eating dinner with friends, if you don't mind my calling you that, Miss Tilney."

"Ellie," Ellie corrected, giving her brother an extra smile to show how delighted she was with their companion. Catherine could only assume that they were secretly laughing at her, and that made her feel even more sorry for being late. If she had come earlier she could have impressed them with her responsibility.

"I saw your friend Edward today at lunch," Ellie said. That was surprising. Catherine knew that Edward had been having lunch with Constanzia Corleone and her unacceptable boyfriend.

Catherine glanced at Henry and saw he was similarly puzzled. "At the same restaurant as you?" Henry asked.

Ellie shook her head. "He was there meeting a friend of my boyfriend's."

"Really?" Catherine asked, then wished she hadn't seemed so indiscreetly interested in Ellie's personal life. If Ellie wanted to keep that part of her life a secret, Catherine wouldn't ask questions. No. She'd let Henry ask the questions.

"You know Constanzia Corleone?" Henry asked.

Ellie nodded her head. "She's very elegant. A bit bossy, but so is Sonny."

"Sonny?" Catherine repeated. "Sonny ..."

"...Corleone?" Henry finished.

Ellie nodded again, like it was just any other name in the world, not the name of the Corleones' presumably dead first-born son. "Now that Edward has met him, I might as well tell you about him, too. We've been seeing each other for about a year now. He has nothing to do with his family these days, but he still sees Connie. She introduced Edward and his friends to Carlos and us. Carlos is a sweetheart, and he's Sonny's best friend."

Catherine couldn't say a word, even if she thought it was appropriate for her to say anything. Henry Tilney's little sister was dating Sonny Corleone. Ellie knew Constanzia Corleone. But Ellie seemed so ... normal. And yet she was completely caught up in the Corleone mess.

Of course this news greatly disturbed Henry. "Ellie, don't you know these people?" he asked. "Haven't you seen The Godfather?"

Ellie looked at her brother, and she looked at Catherine's terrified expression, and she smiled. "Henry, that's just a movie. Sonny and Connie are real. Their father isn't going to have anyone killed. And Sonny makes me happy. Ask Edward. He met Sonny."

So Ellie didn't even know the true nature of the Corleones. She hadn't been overhearing fragments of conversation from the Don's study like Edward. She didn't know about how much information the Corleones and their associates knew about the high-profile Mafia trials days before anything was made public in the newspapers or television. Ellie could believe that Sonny's family merely did not get along with him. Catherine and Henry, however, knew the rest of the story.

On the other hand, Ellie said she was happy with Sonny. She looked well. Maybe she didn't ever have to know the truth about Sonny's family. Catherine hoped so, at least.

Henry seemed to have similar views on how much they should tell Ellie about the Corleones, because he guided the conversation from there into more acceptable topics, like how Ellie and Sonny met and fell in love and all the many reasons why Sonny Corleone was the greatest guy ever. It was a subject Ellie could elaborate on at great length, and Catherine had many questions to ask. And what woman can resist another woman's sincere interest in the sappy details of her love life?

By the end of dinner Catherine and Ellie were hugging, exchanging phone numbers, and making arrangements to meet again soon after. Catherine couldn't help from noticing how pleased Henry was that the two young women got along so well together. Overall, it was one of the best pseudo-dates with Henry Tilney that Catherine had ever had.

Edward arranged to meet Brandon and Robert at Allenham after work. He was surprised that the place already had a good sized crowd at 6:30, and there was a steady stream of more people coming in. He spotted his friends at a table close to the stage. They were talking and laughing together like they had somehow become best buddies over the course of the afternoon. Edward hadn't expected his houseguests would get along so well. By now they must have compared notes on the Lucy Steele/Elinor Dashwood issue. Wonderful.

They cheerfully greeted Edward and, after Edward ordered his drink, they were unexpectedly joined by John Willoughby. Edward noted that Brandon still didn't quite smile when John appeared, but they appeared to get along cordially, at the very least.

John disappeared right before Eliza's set, and Edward could silently enjoy his third drink of the night while Brandon and Robert talked about different types of electrical cables. Apparently Brandon knew as much about cables as he knew about everything else.

But Edward did not have to pretend to be interested in their conversation for long before the lights went down and Eliza B walked out on stage to thunderous applause. She was the same commanding presence that Edward remembered from the hospital. She was not flashily dressed, but all eyes were immediately on her. She could win over the audience with a single sly smile. She sang not only songs full of pain and sadness in her low, riveting voice, but also songs of love and unadulterated happiness. She gave off the impression of one who had lived through it all and was genuinely wiser and happier thanks to that.

When she finally stepped off stage, Edward turned his attention back to his companions. Robert and Brandon seemed equally impressed with Eliza's performance, but Brandon surprised Edward by not immediately going into the technical details of why it was a good performance. He didn't even say a thing about the history of jazz or the biography of the composers. Instead, he said, "That was really good."

Eliza stopped by their table and Brandon repeated that simple praise. She smiled, recognizing all the depth of the compliment, and said thank you. Then she went to her husband's table and laughed and smiled and had a generally good time. She was happy there. Edward could see that, and, more importantly, Brandon could see that.

The three of them stayed longer at Allenham, hearing other performers and talking and drinking more. At around Edward's sixth drink, he noticed that Robert and Brandon's conversation had taken a more interesting turn from Indian folklore.

"Marianne's quite a handful," Brandon said. He must have also imbibed more than usual. He rarely brought up Marianne Dashwood in conversation, and even more rarely said anything about her that could possibly be interpreted as criticism. "How am I supposed to tell her that her newest ideal guy is in fact married to my sister?"

"Quite a problem," Edward said, his first contribution to the general conversation for at least the last half hour.

"Yes." He paused, then said, "It's just that she's so young. It would be so much easier if she weren't so young. I don't want her to grow up faster than she wants to. But it doesn't make telling her the truth any easier. John Willoughby was never seriously interested in her. The man she threw up on a high horse was just using her to make his wife jealous after one of their fights. He had no intentions of ever seeing her again. He doesn't want to see her again." Obviously Brandon had been giving this a lot of thought, and Edward felt honored that Brandon shared them, even if Brandon had to be half-drunk to do so.

"That's putting it bluntly," Robert said.

"With Marianne, you have to be blunt," Brandon said. "She only sees what she wants to."

Edward felt that sentiment to be so true that he bought Brandon another drink. And another. It was very late when the three men staggered back to the apartment. Robert slept in Edward's room, Brandon slept on the couch, and Edward on the floor.

His last thoughts before falling asleep: Elinor was coming tomorrow. She really would be there. Edward was both terrified and delighted by the idea.

Chapter 11

Christopher Brandon was awake and out of the apartment early, giving Edward Ferrars time to talk to Robert alone before he went to work. With Elinor, Lucy, and their companions arriving in the city that afternoon, Edward needed to make certain his strategy was set. That required getting Robert to agree to go along with his plan.

Edward felt guilty about taking advantage of Robert's ill-concealed, ardent regard for Lucy Steele, but if Robert insisted on visiting at inconvenient times, he shouldn't complain about being used in Edward's schemes. If Robert really was in New York only to see the city, then he could go sight-seeing while keeping Lucy away from Elinor. Edward knew what he wanted to say to Elinor when he saw her again, and he knew what he wanted to say to Lucy when he saw her again, but he had no idea what he'd say if he ever had to meet both women at the same time. So if Robert cooperated, Edward's life would be made a lot easier.

During breakfast Edward said, "You've been talking to Brandon, so I guess you know enough about how I messed up with Elinor Dashwood to know that I really, really need to see her and she really, really doesn't want to see me."

Robert looked up from his bagel and the sports section to give Edward an unexpected smile. "Let me guess, you want me to keep Lucy distracted while you go after Elinor?" he said.

"Go after?" Edward repeated. "What does that mean? No, I just want to talk to her, but she won't really talk if other people are around. And she won't see me if she knows I'm going to be there."

It was like Robert had anticipated Edward's dilemma, because he already had a solution: "Then that's easy, go today after lunch. Chris is meeting them at the airport at noon and then they're all going back to the hotel. Chris is going to take Marianne out to lunch to discuss John Willoughby, and you can bet that's going to take a while. So I'll stop by to take Lucy out to lunch, and I'll even ask that woman they're traveling with, Mrs. Jennings, to come, too. So that leaves Elinor alone, waiting for you."

"Perfect!" Edward exclaimed. He hadn't realized how easily it could all be worked out. "Oh, but Elinor may want to go out. She does live in New York, so I'm sure there's lots of people and places she'll want to visit again."

Robert smiled again, a very superior smile that Edward would not have expected his little brother to give him, and said with the same strangely infallible logic, "I'll tell Elinor that we'll be back at the hotel to meet her by 2:00 but I'll make certain we don't get back until 2:30. That gives you a half hour with her."

"What about Brandon and Marianne? What if they're done before 2:30?"

"You really think they will be? I'm betting Marianne won't be satisfied with Chris's explanation and will want to see for herself. So that means they're gone for the afternoon."

Edward nodded. Everything Robert was saying was perfectly true. It would all work. "And you don't mind taking Lucy and Mrs. Jennings out of lunch?" Edward asked. "This is your vacation and all."

"It would be my pleasure," Robert said with another smile. For a moment Edward wondered who was following whose plan, but he dismissed the thought quickly. If Robert had planned it all out first for himself, why should Edward complain? Edward would get to talk to Elinor, and Robert would get to have his lunch with Lucy Steele. Sure, Edward knew that Robert was still after his fianc‚e, but if Lucy had gone through all the effort of hunting down Elinor Dashwood, there was no way Robert was going to succeed now with her.

Everything would happen according to plan, and everyone would be happy. Edward cheerfully went off to work and rehearsed in his head what he would say when he met Elinor that afternoon at her hotel.

Catherine Morland was sorting through that day's mail, frequently checking the clock on the wall opposite her desk. She would leave at 11:30 to meet Ellie Tilney and Sonny Corleone around the corner and no one would have to know about it. She hadn't even told Henry about the meeting. He was visiting another shop in Manhattan trying to track down an antique Steinway for a customer, so he wouldn't notice her slipping away a bit early for lunch.

The General came out of his office and asked, "Is Henry gone?"

Catherine nodded, looking at the clock again. 11:25.

"Good," the General said. "The Corleones are going to be here at 11:30 to make a final decision about the pianos and I wanted to handle them myself."

Catherine's eyes widened. The Corleones were coming here, just when she was about to meet the mysterious Sonny Corleone just around the corner? She hadn't realized how perilous her day's plans really were. Wouldn't it be terrible if Sonny happened to run into his family on the way to meeting her?

"By the way, Catherine, stay close at hand until the Corleones are gone," the General said. "I'll want to get the paperwork done as quickly as possible. Don Corleone hates unnecessary delays."

"Oh, but I have to meet some friends-" Catherine began.

"It won't be long," the General said, and then he walked out into the showroom.

Catherine got out what papers she anticipated that they would need and concentrated on watching the clock. What if Ellie and Sonny came to the shop to look for her? Then everything would go wrong. 11:30. 11:31. 11:32. The room was silent, so she could faintly hear the voices in the showroom of the General and Carmella Corleone. She also heard Vito Corleone's low, raspy voice and Constanzia's vague, indifferent tones. Then there was another thin, nervous voice, presumably the piano technicians the Corleones had hired to help them with their choice.

11:33. 11:34. 11:34.

The door to the showroom opened and the General appeared. Had the Corleones already made their decision?

Unfortunately not. "John is busy with another customer, so would you mind helping out here, Catherine?" the General asked in a surprisingly gentle tone. No doubt the Corleones were listening to him now, so he had to look like he was a nice guy.

Catherine smiled weakly (11:35!) and followed him out. There, as she had thought, were Vito, Carmella, and Constanzia Corleone and the little piano technician. It was common for rich people to bring in outside experts to help them pick out a piano, and since their regular piano tuner, Edward, could hardly be expected to give a disinterested opinion on the instruments at Northanger Pianos, this piano technician had been brought in. Catherine could see that the little man was terrified of his employers, and for good reason. They were the Corleones, after all.

Henry had told her about his efforts to steer the Corleones to the Blthners, and, sure enough, they were standing by the Blthners. Catherine smiled and said hi to the Corleones like they were good old friends of hers. The General, not knowing about the dinner party at the Corleone's Catherine had attended, looked briefly confused, but then he smiled because the Corleones looked happy to see her.

"Catherine is a very talented pianist," the General said. "She plans to start studying at Julliard in the spring."

"How wonderful!" Carmella said. "If you have any problems with dealing with the administration there, Vito does have some friends..."

"Oh no," Catherine quickly protested. "I don't want any favors from your ..." She didn't want to get any more involved with the Mafia than she had to. And who knew that the best music school in the country would have Mafia connections, too? The Mob really did have a hand everywhere.

She tried to hide her alarm by smiling again. She sat down at the more expensive of the two Blthners and said, "Any requests?"

"Anything beautiful, my dear," Mrs. Corleone said. Catherine glanced at the faces of the other listeners and saw no objections, so she started playing a Bach prelude from The Well-Tempered Klavier.

For three and a half minutes her attention was consumed by the music and listening to how the instrument reacted to her touch. But then she looked up and saw the back door opening.

"Oh no!" she gasped, but it was too late. There was Ellie Tilney peering in, and Catherine's gasp made the others also look in that direction.

"Eleanor?" the General said. Catherine had expected more dramatic fireworks when father and daughter came in contact with each other again. Then again, the Corleones were there, so the General couldn't exactly show his unpleasant side.

"They're-I mean-she's here to meet... me," Catherine said, getting up. Maybe Sonny won't come into the showroom. Maybe she would be able to run over there, get them to go away, and then the Corleones will quickly buy a piano and the General would be so happy that he wouldn't want to fire her.

"Sorry," Ellie said, giving Catherine an apologetic smile, and she began to close the door.

"They?" the General repeated. "Don't say she has that ill-tempered louse of a boyfriend with her."

Oh dear! Now Catherine was very desirous of Sonny Corleone's absence. Because if he had heard that, he would ...

The door opened.

And there was, presumably, Ellie's boyfriend Sonny Corleone.

And he was mad.

Oh dear!

Now the best thing that could happen to Catherine would be for the Earth to open up and swallow her whole. Or maybe a well-timed natural disaster could save the situation. The arrival of a homicidal maniac. Alien invaders.

Alas, miracles were not forthcoming for Catherine Morland. Before she knew what was happening, there was Sonny Corleone yelling at the General, then there was Vito Corleone yelling at Sonny, then there was the General yelling at Ellie, then there was Ellie yelling at Vito Corleone and her father, then there was Carmella yelling at Vito, then there was Carmella yelling at the General, then there was Constanzia yelling at Sonny...

The customer John Thorpe had been helping made a strategic escape, and Catherine wished she could do the same. It was all her fault. She was going to get fired, wasn't she?

More importantly, she had just made Vito Corleone very, very unhappy. Oh dear! What if... What if... What if he decided to get his revenge? She had tried to operate behind his back, working for his family while secretly meeting the black sheep of the family. No one deceives the Don.

The voices' volume escalated higher and higher until Sonny and Ellie left, followed by the Corleones leaving in a different direction. No pianos were purchased. Catherine's life could now be in danger. One look at the General confirmed that her job was long gone.

"I'm really sorry, sir," she said. "I know Ellie, and we were going to go out for lunch at 11:30, and it's now 11:45 and I guess she wanted to see that everything was OK with me. I'm really sorry. Really, really sorry."

The General looked at her coldly. "My daughter is not welcomed here. Surely Henry has told you of that. And you may have lost us a very, very important friend, not to mention the sale of a very expensive piano. You're fired."

Catherine bit her lip and nodded. She knew this was coming. It was all her fault, so she deserved it. But she was still an eighteen-year-old girl who had just been fired from her first job. She wouldn't get to see Henry any more.

The General ordered her to clean out her things and never come back again, and she cried.

Dedicated completely without permission to Miss Elinor Dashwood

Madam

You are a Phoenix. Your taste is refined, your Sentiments are noble, and your Virtues innumerable. Your Person is lovely, your Figure, elegant, and your Form, magestic. Your Manners are polished, your Conversation is rational and your appearance singular. If therefore the following Tale will afford one moment's amusement to you, every wish will be gratified of

Your most obedient

humble servant,

The Author

Of course Edward had to dedicate his book to Elinor. No one ever read the dedication of books, so he felt fully justified in stealing the dedication to Jane Austen's "The Beautifull Cassandra." But with the way things stood between Elinor and him at present, he almost regretted how enthusiastic this dedication was worded. Sure, at the time he had written out the dedication, he hadn't been consciously aware that Elinor was the most wonderful, beautiful, brilliant, and generally marvelous woman in existence, but now that he had made that realization the dedication was harder to justify to, say, Lucy Steele. He would just have to hope that Lucy wouldn't see it any time soon.

He closed his book (his book) and contemplated again what he would say to Elinor. He had a few dozen different versions of how the meeting could take place, so he ran through in his head the best possible version.

Elinor would be annoyed at him, of course. He knew she was annoyed at him; why else hadn't she been calling him. But, in the best of all possible worlds, the reason why she was annoyed with him was because she was madly in love with him herself. Then she would be happy to see him and she would listen to his apology, and she would acknowledge how truthful his words were and how noble his sentiments. She would tell him of her passionate love for him, and he would tell her of his passionate love for her, and they would rush into each other's arms and share a long, tender kiss...

"Can I help you?"

Edward returned to reality-he was now standing in front of the receptionist at the Plaza hotel at 2:05 pm-and said, "I'm here to visit my friend. She's staying here."

"Her name?"

"Elinor Dashwood. She's here with her sister Marianne and her relative Mrs. Jennings."

"Jennings? Yes, they just checked into their suite this afternoon. Are you expected?"

"I'm a friend," Edward said quickly. He was terrible at lying. So technically he wasn't expected, but he couldn't think that Elinor would blatantly turn him away. "Edward Ferrars."

"Just a moment, sir." The receptionist picked up a phone and called up to the Dashwoods' suite. "Elinor Dashwood? There is a Mr. Edward Ferrars here to see you. ... Yes, Edward Ferrars. The young man seems anxious to see you. ... Thank you, I'll send him up."

Edward smiled in relief. She really would see him. He tried to remember the directions the receptionist gave and went to the elevator. He would finally get to see her. Sure, it hadn't been all that long since they were all in Maryland together, but too much had changed since then. Way too much. Why did he ever have to become engaged to Lucy, anyway?

Edward stood in front of the door to Elinor's room and for a moment he didn't have any idea what he should do. Maybe now was not a good time. Maybe he should have come later, after she had time to get comfortable in her hotel and being back in the city. Maybe he should have waited for her to come to see him.

But he was there now and he really, really did want to see Elinor again. He really, really, really wanted to see her. He had to see her again, whether she wanted to see him or not. He was in love with her.

He finally did knock, and the door immediately opened. Elinor must have been standing at the door waiting for him. And then there he was, face-to-face with the love of his life, Elinor Dashwood, far sooner than he had anticipated. She looked surprised to see him there, in spite of the fact that Edward had just called up a few seconds ago, and it wasn't a happy-pleased-to-see-you-again surprise. It was a oh-damn-what-am-I-supposed-to-do-now surprise. Not a good surprise. Her expression was enough for Edward to know that Lucy had told her everything, and Elinor didn't want to see him.

And all Edward could do was stand in the doorway in stare at her. She was dressed simply in a white button-down blouse and a pair of khaki pants and her long blonde hair was tied back in a tight braid. She was absolutely gorgeous, even when she wasn't trying to be. He had no idea how he had managed to get used to seeing her every day for over six months. How could he have taken her for granted?

But he still had to do some major damage control if he wanted Elinor to voluntarily see him again. So Edward began his great apology: "Elinor, I've really, really screwed up-"

"Edward, thanks for stopping by," she said, cutting him off and ushering him into the sitting room. His great apology would have to wait until they were seated. Edward was vaguely aware that the hotel suite was very large, filled with elegant antique furnishings and vases of flowers, so the absent Mrs. Jennings must be very rich. He wouldn't want Elinor traveling in anything but the greatest luxury. If she wouldn't stay at their apartment, a suite at the Plaza with a nice view of Central Park would have to do.

He became aware of another person in the room just as Elinor said, "You... know Lucy Steele, of course."

Edward turned slowly and saw Lucy's glassy smile. She was sitting on the couch, with a full view of the door, so that meant she had been inspecting him from the moment the door opened. No wonder Elinor was so uneasy. This was bad. But what was Lucy doing there, anyway? She was supposed to be out with Robert. Instead she was there to see that Edward was going out of his way to visit Elinor before seeing his fianc‚e. This was bad. Lucy was going to kill him. He should leave now.

He somehow managed to say in a nearly casual tone of voice, "How are you, Lucy?"

"You told me a few days ago that you were going to be at work all day," Lucy said. She tried to make it sound like mere small talk, but Edward knew her well enough to know that she was mad at him for being there.

"I... unexpectedly got some time off."

"Sit down, Edward," Elinor said, sitting down on the couch next to Lucy. He did so, sitting on a stiff-looking antique armchair opposite the couch. There they were, the two women in his life, both watching his every move and facial expression.

After an awkward pause, Lucy said, "Well, you must be surprised to find me here, Edward! I expect you thought I was out to lunch with Robert."

Precisely. Where had Robert's plan gone wrong? Where was Robert, anyway?

Elinor must have sensed the unspoken argument taking place, and she got up saying, "Let me call Marianne. She would be disappointed to miss you, Edward."

She went towards one of the bedroom doors, but the door opened before she had gone far and Marianne walked in. What was Marianne doing there? She was supposed to be with Brandon, getting her heart trampled over because of the Willoughby situation. This wasn't at all what Edward had been expecting.

Marianne did look pale and her eyes were redder than usual; no doubt she had been crying over her romantic situation, a jilted lover. Edward felt sorry for her for a moment, but then annoyed. She wasn't supposed to be there.

When Marianne saw Edward, she immediately smiled and said, "Edward! I heard your voice! At last you have found us!" Her smile briefly vanished when she saw that Lucy was there, too. Obviously Marianne Dashwood was no big fan of Lucy Steele.

Edward pretended to ignore the dark looks Marianne was giving Lucy and said, "Forgive me, Marianne, my visit is shamefully overdue. You've been in the city for over two hours, right?" Speak to the sister. Don't let Lucy drive you away yet. Let Lucy drive you away in another minute. "But you look pale. Are you OK?"

So it wasn't the most tactful thing to bring attention to, but it was better than nothing.

"Oh don't think of me, don't think of my health," Marianne said melodramatically. "Elinor is well, you see. That must be enough for both of us." She gave another pointed look at Lucy, just daring Lucy to say something. At least Edward could be assured that Marianne was still determined to see him married to Elinor.

"Do you like New York enough to come a second time?" Edward asked, still directing his comments to Marianne. Of course he knew all about her true reason for being there, but he couldn't exactly start talking about that in front of Lucy.

Marianne sighed and said, "No, not at all. I expected much pleasure in it, but I have found none. Seeing you again is the only thing I've been looking forward to. And thank goodness you haven't changed one bit. You are exactly like you always were!" No one said anything. Surely Marianne knew about the Lucy Steele situation, but just as she wouldn't mention Willoughby, she seemed determined to ignore Lucy Steele, too. She said down in a chair next to Elinor's side of the couch, making now a row of three women sitting opposite Edward, all looking at him too closely.

Marianne asked, "Why have you taken so long to come and see us? We've been here all afternoon expecting you. Robert said you'd be by."

That wasn't how it was supposed to work. Robert had told them Edward was coming? And Marianne and Lucy were home. What had gone wrong?

"I had some previous engagements to attend to," he began, then winced at his unfortunate word choice. Engagements were what got him into all this trouble to begin with. "I do have a job."

"Other engagements?" Marianne repeated. Edward kept his eyes focused on Marianne and didn't glance at either of the other two women sitting next to her, who certainly must be looking at him extra closely now. Marianne frowned for a moment, but she seemed determined not to dwell on it. She gave Edward another beaming smile and said, "But who cares about all them when you can be visiting such good friends, like Elinor."

Edward hoped he wasn't blushing at Marianne's blatant hints. He tried to laugh but failed.

"Perhaps, Marianne, you think young men never honor their engagements, little or great," Lucy said, giving a significant look to Edward that she didn't try to hide from the Dashwoods. Edward had been so preoccupied with how Elinor was going to take the news that he hadn't thought much at all about how Lucy was going to react. Not good.

Marianne gave Lucy a stern look, just daring her to directly allude to her engagement with Edward. Seeing that Lucy wasn't going to say anything else at present, Marianne turned to face Edward again and cheerfully said, "Don't be silly, Lucy. Edward is the most fearful of giving pain and the most incapable of being selfish of anyone I ever met." Edward wanted to leave. He needed to leave. He began to stand up. "Edward, stay! Sit down! Elinor, tell him to stay."

He stood up. "Sorry but I really should be going -"

"But you've only just gotten here," Marianne said, glancing at Elinor. "And what's that - your book?"

He had forgotten in the confusion that he was still holding the advanced copy of his novel that he was going to give to Elinor, once they had talked things over and reached their peace. In these circumstances, he was no longer in the mood to show it off.

"Yes, it is," he said awkwardly, handing it to Marianne to let her see it.

"Bildungsroman Blues," Marianne read slowly. "Don't you think it's a pretty cover, Elinor?"

"Oh, let me see it," Elinor said, snatching it from her sister's hands with the light playfulness that Edward knew. "Not bad at all, Edward. Has it always only been 536 pages long? I didn't think you'd be able to constrain your vision to such a small canvas." She had hardly said a dozen words to him since he had arrived, so hearing her speak as flippantly as she used to made Edward feel much better. She couldn't absolutely hate him and still be interested in his book.

"Let me see it," Lucy said, taking it from Elinor. She examined the cover and the binding before opening it up by chance to, of course, the dedication page. "Well, would you look at that," she said, unspoken threats filling her speech. "Did you know about that, Elinor? Edward dedicated it to you."

"What?" Elinor asked, taking the book from Lucy's hands. Marianne also craned to see it.

"Aww, that's so sweet, Edward," Marianne said, positively delighted with the idea of romantically dedicating a book to one's muse, no doubt. Of course she wouldn't appreciate the sarcasm in the dedication itself, but that was for Elinor anyway.

Lucy wasn't impressed, though. "You seem to be filled with nice things to say about Elinor," Lucy said.

"She had to put up with me when I was writing most of it," Edward explained, reluctantly sitting down again. "It's from Jane Austen."

"What is?" Lucy asked.

"The dedication. It's from one of her stories she wrote when she was a teenager."

"Why would you read the stories Jane Austen wrote when she was a kid?" Lucy asked.

Marianne took the book from Elinor and said, "Really? Jane Austen? This? How delightful. Don't you think that's delightful, Elinor?"

Elinor sort of nodded her head, and Edward could tell that she was pleased even if she didn't make it obvious to everyone else.

"I really should be on my way," Edward said, standing up again and taking the book from Marianne. It would seem odd now to give it to Elinor as a present when he didn't have a copy to give to even his fianc‚e.

Lucy immediately was at his side and said, "I'm also on my way out." How perfectly marvelous. Edward hoped that his face didn't show how terrifying the notion of a private conversation with Lucy Steele was at this moment.

Just to make things even worse, Marianne grabbed Edward's arm and whispered loud enough for the others to hear, "Just stay a moment longer, will you? Lucy's going and then you can actually talk to Elinor. And we know you two have a lot to discuss."

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly -" Edward said, looking at both Lucy and Elinor. Lucy wasn't going to let him remain, and Elinor didn't look like she was going to jump up and insist that he stay. "I have, well, you know, appointments."

"We'll go down to the lobby together," Lucy said, leading the way to the door. She gave an extra smile to Elinor and said, "I'll be back in a little bit, don't worry. I'll definitely be back before dinner. Tell Mrs. Jennings that, will you? Come on, Edward."

Edward tried to say something appropriate to Marianne and Elinor, but only ended up with, "Bye," before Lucy literally grabbed him and took him by the arm out of the hotel room. She walked quickly down the hallway and into the elevator. Edward hurried to keep up with her.

Once the elevator doors were closed and Lucy had told the elevator operator what floor they were headed to, she turned to Edward and said, "Imagine meeting you here of all places."

"Yeah," Edward said awkwardly.

He waited for Lucy to explode, to tell him what a sneak he was, to tell him that she knew all about his relationship with Elinor and that she wasn't going to give him up for anyone, but instead she made small talk with the elevator operator.

They walked together out of the lobby and onto 5th Avenue, still saying nothing of importance. Edward nervously glanced at her while she talked about the meteorological differences between New York City and Sussex, PA. Now that they were away from her hotel Lucy would yell at him, right? Or maybe not. She started walking down the crowded sidewalk next to him as if nothing was at all out of the ordinary. But she was still only delaying the inevitable. Edward deserved to be yelled at.

"Where are you headed?" he asked.

"Where are you going?" Lucy asked. "I want to look at your book again. That's my future, too, you know."

"Let's stop in here," Edward said, opening the door of a coffee shop they were in front of. Not saying a word to each other, they both made their orders, tea for Edward and coffee for Lucy, and sat down by the window.

Edward handed Lucy the book and then concentrated on getting the sugar/milk/tea ratio correct for that size of a cup and that brand of tea.

"It says you're not engaged," Lucy said, pointing to the blurb about the author at the end of the book.

"It says virtually nothing," Edward said, taking the book from her and looking at it himself. He had written it quickly one day.

Edward Ferrars is a piano tuner in New York City with delusions of grandeur. He hopes to write more books and to avoid death for as long as possible.

"It doesn't mention Pennsylvania or your family or me at all," Lucy said. "You don't mention me anywhere. You only mention Elinor Dashwood back on the dedication page." At least she was finally being confrontational. Edward didn't know what to do with a quiet Lucy Steele.

"Elinor was a big help. But really, no one will care. No one will read the dedication or the author blurb. Most people won't even read my book."

"You're doing book-signings, right?"

"A few, I guess."

"Then you'll mention me, right?"

"Why? You didn't write the book, I did."

But seeing the death-glare Lucy was giving him and thinking of where they had just ran into each other, Edward thought it wise to say something to the effect that she'd constantly be in his thoughts and his responses when the book-signings came around.

The first thing Henry Tilney did not see when he returned to the piano shop that afternoon was Catherine Morland. He had come in the back door, ready to give her the paperwork for the piano he had obtained for one of Northanger's clients, but the back room was empty. Her desk was also unnaturally clean. There wasn't a single envelope or paper lying on top of it. Catherine was a generally neat girl, but she never kept her desk that clean.

Then Henry noticed that all her little personal tidbits were missing. The little plastic bust of Beethoven and the small vase of pansies that Henry had given her the day before were missing. The pictures were gone, too, and, most telling, the name plate on her desk.

"Dad!" Henry hollered, much too loudly for someone in the back room, but he didn't care whether any customers in the show room could hear him.

The General opened his office door and peered out. "If you want to know where the girl went, she's fired," the General grumbled.

He started to close his door, but Henry wasn't going to accept the news so easily. "You fired her?" Henry said. "What happened? What did she do wrong? You said yourself that she's the best secretary you've had in years."

"She's a nosy little trouble maker," the General said. Seeing that Henry still wanted to hear more of an explanation, he said, "The Corleones came to look at pianos while you were gone and Catherine's visitors came into the show room looking for her."

"Catherine's visitors?" Henry asked. "She never told me that she was meeting someone today. Who were they?"

"You don't know?" the General challenged.

Henry could now guess. "Ellie?"

"And her boyfriend. I don't need to ask who introduced Catherine to them, but it caused a very unpleasant scene with the Corleones."

Sonny and Ellie running into the Corleones at Northanger Pianos? Henry could only hope that Catherine was going to be OK.

"So you fired her?" Henry asked. "Why did you do that? You never told her that she couldn't meet friends at the shop and you never told her she couldn't meet Ellie. You only told me I couldn't meet friends at the shop and see Ellie and Sonny."

The General glared at his son. "And you admit that you disobeyed me? You still are in contact with your sister? She may have lost us a very, very valuable client. Don Corleone is not known to forgive people easily for making him mad. Her association with us is threatening the shop's entire reputation."

Henry hadn't realized that the piano shop he planned on inheriting had such an enormous debt to the Corleones. Why hadn't anyone ever told him about that during all the time he had spent working there?

"But Catherine," Henry said. "Her contract says that she has to be given two weeks' notice before she can be expected to stop working. You threw her out, didn't you? She'll need a reference, too. She needed this job."

He couldn't believe that his father had acted so horribly towards little Cathy, who only wanted to help out and make things easier for everyone else at the shop. There were dozens of little things she had done during the relatively short time that she had worked there that had made Northanger Pianos a happier place to work at. Henry never left the back room of the shop without a smile on his face because of something she had said or done. And now his father had thrown Catherine Morland out.

"Pay her for the next two weeks, fine, but don't let her ever come in here again. We need the Corleones, Henry. You don't know all the details of how we work here, so you'll have to take my word. And if I see you off with your sister or her boyfriend or with Catherine Morland, you'll be out, too."

"Out?" Henry repeated.

Northanger Pianos meant everything to him. He had spent 10 hours a day, 6 days a week, working at the shop ever since he graduated college. He was going to get his MBA and then he was going to expand the business. He had so many plans for his family's piano shop, but he knew that his father was not making just idle threats.

"Yes," the General said. "I won't let you ruin things for us."

But then Henry looked at Catherine's poor, empty desk and at where the vase of pansies had been that morning. The poor girl had never been fired before. She must be miserable.

Henry said, "But Catherine's just a kid. I'm sure the Corleones won't hold her responsible for what happened."

"They do. At least the Don does. So if you ever expect to be able to run this shop yourself, you cannot even talk to her again. Understand?"

Henry didn't know what to say. He couldn't disobey the General. The General really would fire him and hand the shop over to someone else if he decided to. But then Henry thought of Catherine, who would certainly expect to hear from him that evening. He loved talking to Catherine. But Northanger Pianos was still his life.

"Yes, Dad," he finally said.

The General slammed the door and Henry still had no idea what he was supposed to do. If only he knew how much hold the Corleones had over him and his family's shop. And he couldn't just abandon Catherine like that. He liked her too much. He'd have to find a way to help her out.

Just then, the door from the showroom opened and Edward Ferrars came in. Henry knew that the General had told Edward repeatedly that he was to use the back door when coming and going from the shop, but whenever Edward was particularly preoccupied with something he would forget and use the front door. Henry took a moment away from being miserable himself to see that Edward was pretty miserable, too.

"What's wrong?" Henry asked.

Edward looked at Henry and said, "I went to see Elinor but Lucy was there, too. It was awful." He looked at Catherine's desk and asked, "Where's Catherine? I need directions for my next appointment. New clients."

Now it was Henry's turn to talk about how awful things were. "The General fired her this morning when I was gone. Apparently the Corleones came to look at pianos just when Catherine was meeting Ellie and Sonny Corleone. I'm guessing there was a big fight, and the General fired Catherine."

For once, the mention of the super-scary Corleones wasn't enough to terrify Edward. Henry was now divided between feeling sorry for Catherine, feeling sorry for Edward, and feeling sorry for himself.

Edward said, "Too bad. I really like Catherine. And you do, too."

Henry nodded. "It won't be the same without her. The General won't let me even see her again because he's afraid of getting the Corleones mad."

They both wallowed in self-pity for a few introspective moments. Edward sighed. Henry woefully shook his head. Edward sighed again.

Then Edward turned to his friend and said, "So you can't visit her. The General would know you're gone and he'd eventually find out. You can't call her because what if the General hears. So what about writing to her? There's no way the General could find out if you're smart about it."

Henry considered the idea. Edward was right; his father had a way of finding out where Henry went and who he saw and talked to. But who wrote letters these days? Then again, he did already have to send Catherine the rest of her pay and a letter of reference. Surely Henry could ask around and find another shop in the area that Catherine could work for. He already had close dealings with nearly every shop in the city, so the General wouldn't suspect that he was asking about more than just any new arrivals.

Henry could imagine Catherine being an excellent letter writer. She had a knack for finding even the most commonplace things fascinating. And Henry had to be glad that she was separated from the Corleones, especially now that she had gotten them mad at her. Maybe the situation wasn't so hopeless after all. He could still secretly keep in touch with her, and no one had to ever find out.

That night Edward sat alone in his apartment, waiting for either of his houseguests to arrive. At 11:30 Robert finally came back, wearing a dinner coat and a tie. Edward hadn't seen Robert dressed up since their aunt's funeral three years ago.

"What's the occasion?" Edward asked, pointing to Robert's clothes.

Robert looked down, like he was noticing at his outfit for the first time, and said, "Oh, all this? I wanted to take Lucy out somewhere nice. We went out to dinner and then saw some play the papers liked."

Edward didn't quite know how he was supposed to react to that. His little brother, who everyone knew was after his fianc‚e, had taken Lucy out on a date in New York, while Edward was sitting at home trying to read last month's issue of Harper's?

"You could have invited me," Edward said petulantly. He loved going to plays. That was another activity he used to do with Elinor, so he hadn't seen anything for the past two months.

Robert shrugged and said, "Sorry, I didn't think of it."

How could Robert not think of inviting his brother when taking out his brother's fianc‚e? It wasn't that Edward was very territorial and protective of Lucy-she was certainly free to do as she pleased-but he didn't like the idea that Robert was trying to go behind his back. It wasn't a very polite thing to do. And what would Elinor think of him, neglecting Lucy while letting his little brother take her out all over town?

"What about lunch?" Edward asked. "I thought you said you'd have Lucy away. And they said you told them I was going to come to see them."

Robert looked down at the floor guiltily and said, "Sorry about that. It all didn't quite... er... turn out as I thought it would. I sort of let it slip that you were going to stop by to see Elinor."

So then Lucy had insisted on staying around. Edward nodded in acceptance of that explanation. But he noticed that Robert still looked very guilty. What if it wasn't an accidental slip...? No, his little brother wouldn't do that. Edward still wasn't happy with Robert.

"And Marianne, she was there, too. What happened to Brandon?"

Right on cue, the door opened and Christopher Brandon himself walked in. He was dressed in his usual respectable-lawyer-esque suit, perhaps a nicer suit than usual because of the special nature of the day, but he did not look as mildly respectable as usual. In fact, he looked positively livid.

"That's it, I've had enough, I'm going home," he thundered. Edward jumped back in surprise. He hadn't seen Brandon this angry ever, and he didn't want to.

"Not a good day?" Edward asked meekly.

Brandon glared at him and said, "No, Edward. Not a good day. I've had to extract Marianne Dashwood from Allenham three times tonight. John has no idea what he's supposed to do about that girl, Eliza is furious, and Marianne is just being a little idiot. Elinor's standing guard at the hotel, making certain that Marianne doesn't disappear again. She's absolutely impossible. She has decided that her tragic loss of John Willoughby is the center of everyone's thoughts, though when I left her she was bewailing fate in general and telling Elinor that she, too, must have a broken heart because of you, Edward. Of course Marianne says this in front of everyone, including Lucy, and we can't get her to be quiet. And then I realized something. There's no reason why I have to put up with her. It's not like she ever cared at all about me. I'm just the neighbor. So I left."

"You just ... left?" Edward asked. He would never expect that of loyal Chris Brandon.

"Yes. I'm done with her. I feel sorry for Elinor, of course, because she doesn't deserve to have to look after her sister in this state, but I can't handle any more of it myself."

"Sounds like a pretty logical decision on your part," Robert said, terribly unhelpfully. "She's pretty, but she sounds like a pain."

"A pain?" Brandon repeated, ready to defend his beloved as usual. But then he must have remembered the scenes she had been making that evening because he said nothing more.

"It must be very unpleasant for Lucy," Robert said. Edward nodded in agreement. Having Marianne talk about how she wanted Elinor and Edward to get married would probably not be something that Lucy Steele would enjoy.

"But how can we help her?" Edward asked.

"Don't worry," Robert said nobly, "I'll take her to Rhode Island."

"Her aunt, of course!" Edward said. Lucy had many relatives scattered around the East coast, including her aunt in Providence, with whom Lucy lived before moving to her uncle's house in Sussex, PA. "I wish I could take off time from work, but things are getting hectic around here. You don't mind going, Robert? I'll help pay-that's the least I can do."

"You'll pay me to go to Providence with Lucy?" Robert asked. Edward nodded. It sounded like a very good idea to him. He didn't notice just how widely Robert smiled at the idea.

Brandon was similarly surprised and amused by the idea. "So that's settled," he said, shrugging. "I'm going home to Maryland, Robert's going to Providence with Edward's fianc‚e, and Edward's staying here being afraid of Elinor."

"What?" Edward asked. He had never heard Brandon speak like that. And how did Brandon know that Edward was terrified of meeting Elinor? Especially after the way that afternoon's meeting went, he was perfectly right, but Edward didn't realize that it was now common knowledge. "Oh, but what if Lucy won't go?"

"Lucy was just telling me tonight about how she wished she could visit her aunt again," Robert said confidently. "She said that Marianne won't be quiet about how she thinks that you should marry Elinor, Edward. Not just tonight but from the first time she met Marianne. So Lucy will definitely come, especially if we give her the train tickets."

"Consider it done," Edward said, reaching for his wallet. It would be a very well spent few hundred dollars to get Robert and Lucy away from New York for a few days. Maybe that would even give him enough time to talk to Elinor. Marianne would now be a bigger problem, though, since she seemed determined to interfere and there would be no Chris Brandon to restrain her most foolish impulses.

"Edward, don't you see-" Brandon began, then shook his head and said, "Never mind." He sat down and started making the necessary calls to change his plane ticket to leave the next morning, Robert talked to Lucy to arrange their trip to Rhode Island the next morning, and Edward gave Robert one of his credit cards to make the trip possible.

So that meant he'd have some peace and quiet, and time to think of his next attempt to win over the woman he loved.

Chapter 12

Edward Ferrars had gone from having too many people in his apartment to having too few. Christopher Brandon had left, Robert was with Lucy Steele visiting her relatives in Rhode Island, and Elinor Dashwood was still staying at the Plaza hotel with her sister and Mrs. Jennings. At least Edward still had his little Lucy.

The kitten came into the kitchen to eat her breakfast while Edward slowly drank his morning pot of tea. He was surprised Elinor had not even dropped by the apartment to pick anything up. Surely she must want to see how their Lucy was doing. It would also be kind of nice if Elinor cared a little bit about how Edward was doing, too.

If Elinor would no longer call him during breakfast, he would have to take matters into his own hands. He would call her himself. Their last meeting may not have gone very well-OK, so there really aren't many ways it could have turned out any worse-but at least Elinor and he had said a few things to each other. That meant they were still friends, right? And friends are allowed to call friends' hotel rooms at early hours before friends go to work.

Edward got out the phone book and in five minutes was listening to the phone ringing in Mrs. Jennings' suite in the Plaza hotel.

"Hello," an unfamiliar voice said. It sounded matronly, so no doubt it was the unknown Mrs. Jennings, distant relative of both Elinor Dashwood and Lucy Steele. Edward already disliked her intensely; how could anyone have the audacity to claim to be distantly related to the most inconvenient two people in the world?

"Hi, Mrs. Jennings?" Edward said, hoping he sounded like a cheerful young man instead of a depressed loon. "This is Edward Ferrars. I was wondering if-"

"Lucy's Edward?" Mrs. Jennings asked enthusiastically. That reaction didn't make Edward like her any more. "I'm so sorry we couldn't meet yesterday. Your charming brother took me out to lunch, wasn't that nice of him? He insisted, you know. And now he's insisted on taking Lucy to see her aunt. He is a very nice young man."

"Very," Edward said. "But, Mrs. Jennings-"

"You aren't concerned about Lucy going off with your brother, are you? If you are, you shouldn't be. You should hear the way she talks about you, Edward. I feel like I know you already. She's told us all about your relationship together."

Oh dear. That wasn't good. Lucy Steele had been his first girlfriend, and he had no doubt done many very silly things in that first flush of romance that, in retrospect, would not be good to tell Elinor. And knowing Lucy, she would freely elaborate and embellish until their rather mundane relationship became some sort of epic romance.

"That's sweet of her," Edward said because he knew he had to say something. "Anyway, is Elinor around?"

"Sorry, she's gone to her old work place, to say good-bye to everyone."

"Good-bye?" Edward repeated. "You mean... she's quitting her volunteer work? What's she doing instead?"

Elinor had always said that she would continue working at the hospitals until she finally knew what she was going to do with her life. So did that mean she had made a decision, and she hadn't told him anything about it? And she would be making a decision thinking that he had deceived her and not knowing that he was madly in love with her. He wasn't certain whether the knowledge of his feelings would in any way effect Elinor's plans, but he sort of hoped it may have some tiny impact. Right now, she would probably want to go out of her way to be as far away from Edward as possible.

Of course Mrs. Jennings knew very little about Edward's angst. She would only hear the concern of a good friend. Edward liked her even less when she laughed off his questions and simply said, "Don't worry, I'll tell her you called. Lucy is going to be back in three more days, right? Then I'm sure we'll all be able to meet up again."

Edward said something meaningless about how he looked forward to it and hung up. At least Elinor would know he had called. Maybe she would even call back.

Catherine Morland was playing her piano at her godparents' house when a letter arrived for her. She immediately recognized the Northanger Pianos envelope and Henry Tilney's handwriting. She put aside her Chopin and immediately opened the letter. She had been wondering why she hadn't heard from Henry at all since she had to leave Northanger. Was he mad at her for getting the Corleones mad and for getting Ellie and Sonny in trouble? Or did he just not care about her now that he didn't see her every day at the shop?

She first noticed the paycheck. So it was just a business letter. There were two additional pieces of paper in the envelope. The first she took out was written on Northanger Pianos' letterhead and was a very complimentary letter of reference, signed Henry Tilney. She didn't expect anything from the General, and seeing that Henry thought so well of her as a secretary made her very pleased.

Then she looked at the other paper Henry had sent to her.

Dear Cathy,

A personal message from Henry!

I just got back this afternoon and heard about what happened with the Corleones this morning. I am sorry that I was not around, and I am even sorrier that I have not been able to talk to you in person or even over the phone since then. I hope you are well.

Henry cared! He was sorry for not being there and for not calling! He hoped she was well! His apologies continued from there. He gave her a list of contacts for new jobs. He was going to help her! But he didn't seem to expect to ever see her, whereas she would forego the paycheck, the letter of recommendation, and the contacts if she knew she would be able to see him again. At the end of the letter, Henry explained:

My father is becoming melodramatic in his old age and has threatened to fire me if I ever see you or talk to you again, so how are you at letter writing? It's a tad old-fashioned, but I wouldn't want to lose a friend because of my father's strange ideas of how to keep the Corleones happy.

How terribly romantic! His father had forbidden Henry to see her, and yet he was going out of his way to write. And he wanted to continue writing to her. He instructed her to send letters for him to Edward's apartment. It would be easy to arrange, and so she would still be a part of his life. How wonderful! Maybe she could still help out with the Corleones, too. She had probably left Northanger Pianos in a worse position with regard to the Corleones than before. What about Edward? He would surely return to the Corleones soon, and what would they think?

Catherine immediately started writing her reply, begging for more details about what was happening with the Corleones and thanking Henry again and again for his consideration and help. She may not be able to see Henry at present, but she was confident that they could not remain apart forever. Besides, she already was convinced she was going to marry him, and don't all lovers need obstacles? Hopefully their ending would be happier than the ending of any of the couples in "The Godfather". There's the often-married Constanzia, Sonny and his affairs, Fredo with the awful uncontrollable wife, Michael and Kay's divorce, and, oh dear, Vincent and Mary...

Edward was not pleased when the General gave him his schedule for the day. For one, there were two appointments listed for 11:00. Second of all, one of those 11:00 appointments was with the Corleones, and Edward was not certain how well he would be received by them. Thirdly, because there was no replacement secretary yet, no one would have called to confirm the appointments, so at least a few of the people would have forgotten about it, have changed their minds about it, or would have assumed he wasn't coming because no one called to confirm.

But back to the second reason. The Corleones. At 11:00 (after making arrangements with Hugh Palmer to go to his other 11:00 appointment) Edward dutifully reported to the Corleone's. The butler let him in with the same indifferent expression, and Carmella Corleone greeted him in the pink drawing room as usual.

"Eduardo, what a mess," she said, shaking her head. "You were not there at the shop, you did not see the scene, but I know you must have heard. How is Catherine? She looked terrified when we left."

"The General did fire her," Edward said meekly. He thought that was rather an extreme reaction, but he didn't want the Corleones to think that he disapproved. He didn't want them to know anything at all about what he thought until he knew what Vito Corleone thought himself. According to Henry, one should always agree with the Don.

Mrs. Corleone sighed over the sad fate of Catherine Morland and the helplessness of her situation. "With all the arguing and screaming, we didn't even decide on a piano. Now Vito says we don't need another piano. I told him it was for my collection, and you know about my collections." Edward nodded nervously. He knew too much about her collections, in his opinion. "But he said I should go back to vases. Can you believe that?"

"I'm sorry it turned out this way," Edward said sympathetically.

Carmella smiled sadly and said, "Don't worry, Eduardo. We'll get that piano eventually, once Vito and Sonny settle their differences."

"Settle their differences?" Edward repeated. He hadn't realized that was even an option for how things could possibly turn out.

Carmella now smiled wider with not a trace of sadness. "Yes, Constanzia arranged it," she said proudly. "Sonny is coming to dinner tonight, with his girlfriend Eleanor. I did not realize she was Lucia's daughter."

"Lucia?"

"You never met her, she was the General's wife," Mrs. Corleone said. "She was one of Vito's ex-girlfriends, you know. That's how we Corleones started helping out at Northanger Pianos. Lucia was a beautiful girl, so it's no wonder Eleanor is so beautiful."

Edward had always known that Henry's mother had been Italian, but he hadn't even considered the Corleone-implications of that. They were the Italian - or was it Sicilian? - mafia, so it would be natural that they would have strong ties to the city's Italian-American community. But what would Henry think of the idea of his mother going out with Vito Corleone when she was young? At least that did explain the mystery of how the Corleones became involved with Northanger Pianos. And it sounded like Carmella Corleone was already delighted with Ellie, in spite of the scene at the piano shop.

Mrs. Corleone started moving towards the music room, but she stopped by the doorway and asked, "She's not connected to your Elinor, is she?"

Edward empathetically shook his head. "No, no. My Elinor has been away recently."

Now it was Mrs. Corleone's turn to be sympathetic. "Oh, so that's why you've been so sad recently. I didn't want to be indelicate and mention it. She's been gone for some time, hasn't she? When will she be back?"

"She is back now," Edward said.

"You are not happy, though. What is wrong?"

"Everything, I'm afraid," Edward said. But he wouldn't elaborate, no matter what sort of help Carmella Corleone was eager to offer. Instead he made her show him the pianos and hear what complaint she had thought up this time.

So Sonny and Ellie were going to visit the Corleones. That was probably a step in the right direction, or else it could make things worse.

Edward returned to the apartment at seven o'clock and was greeted at the door by Lucy. He was getting used to the lonely routine. There seemed to be very little chance that he would find another human face in the apartment now that Elinor wanted nothing to do with him. There were no messages on the answering machine. Elinor hadn't called back.

"Hi Lucy," he said, trying to appear happy for the sake of the cat. Surely the kitten could sense that the atmosphere of the apartment had changed since Elinor's return to New York. Edward wanted to keep Lucy hidden from the angst and uncertainty he was going through. Lucy could be his happy emotional center. She followed him as he went towards the kitchen to check on her food and water dishes.

"So how was your day, dear?" he asked the cat, throwing his jacket on the couch as he walked by on the way to the kitchen. Once in the kitchen he saw the real reason why Lucy was so eagerly awaiting his arrival; she needed more food.

"I went to the Corleone's again today. They didn't kill me. You know, I think I would even like them if it weren't for that entire threat of being gunned down every time I leave the building. It sounds like the Don is getting tired of all this piano mess, so maybe he'll convince Mrs. Corleone that she doesn't need weekly visits from piano tuners and I'll be free," he said, looking through the cupboard for the bag of dry cat food. "Of course you'll say that I've always been free to leave, but you're wrong. If I left, the Corleones would be mad and the General would be mad and I would be without a job. You wouldn't want that, you know. I'm sure Elinor would subsidize your cat food and the apartment, but I'd have to move out and the next person who moves in might be allergic to cat hair or something."

Somehow talking to the cat now seemed perfectly natural to Edward. He didn't notice that someone had opened the door to the apartment and came in.

"You know, Lucy, I have no idea what you find so appetizing about that Cat Chow. Anything that color would really not strike me as food," Edward was saying when Elinor came into the kitchen.

She stood in the doorway for a moment until Edward noticed he had an audience. She was wearing a dark green dress Edward had never seen before, dressed up for some occasion. She already had clothes he didn't recognize, and she had social commitments that he was no longer included in. She didn't smile, but she didn't look angry or sad or uncomfortable. She just seemed ... distant.

But she was still there at the apartment, so she must be willing to talk to him. Edward tried to match her serious expression, but he couldn't help from smiling and saying, "You came back."

She didn't smile back. She said, "We didn't have a chance to talk last week."

She took a few steps into the kitchen towards the table. Edward sat down and motioned for her to sit down across from him. She hesitated before doing so. That wasn't how Elinor should be acting in her own home. But she was still there. They sat across from each other in silence, just looking at each other. She tried to smile, but it wasn't a real smile. Edward knew her facial expressions better than to think she actually was pleased to be there. She was uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," he said simply.

"You could have told me about Lucy. It wouldn't have changed anything."

Edward looked at her and knew that she was telling the truth. "But I didn't and now it has," he said.

Elinor sort of lowered her head in her usual gesture of uncertainty. She wouldn't straight out say, "Yes, it has changed everything and we can never be friends again." Of course she didn't contradict him and say, "No, it's changed nothing, we'll always be friends." Maybe he still had a chance to redeem himself. She didn't look like she had made up her mind to hate him forever for lying to her.

In as casual a manner as he could manage, he said, "So there's a girl back in my hometown that I'm engaged to. We've been engaged for the last four years or so. She runs a restaurant."

Elinor smiled slightly, but the smile didn't go up to her eyes. She would always smile with her eyes when it was a real smile. "Really? So tell me about her."

"She was the niece of my high school Latin teacher," Edward said. "I visited Mr. Steele for dinner every now and then, and Lucy was always there. She was just part of the background, but then she came to the foreground one day when I was visiting and when Mr. Steele was out of the room she told me that she loved me."

Elinor smiled a little more. His retelling of the story probably had certain dissimilarities to the way Lucy had told it. "How romantic," she said. "How long did she need to convince you of the same?"

"From the very beginning of when we started going out together, Lucy has said that we were going to get married. I suppose I never saw a reason to contradict her. And I got used to the idea. You know how it is."

Oddly enough, he wasn't lying. That was the way their relationship developed. Edward never knew what he wanted to do with his life, but Lucy had enough drive and direction for the both of them. She made the major decisions, and the certainty made Edward happier than he would have been without her. Only now, when he actually knew what he wanted in his life, did he no longer need Lucy Steele in his life. But she wasn't going to disappear any time soon.

Elinor smiled genuinely at that last statement. "Yes, like how it is with me and all my hidden fianc‚s." She paused, going back to reality where things could not be dismissed so easily, and said, "Lucy must want to kill you because of me."

Edward tried to think of some adequate protest to make her feel better, but he could only nod his head and say, "I hope she hasn't been too awful to you."

"Oh, Lucy has been a constant companion," Elinor said, with a slightly audible groan. "I don't know what I would do without her. She's practically been my shadow until your brother took her away."

"I wish I could say it was my idea to send her to Rhode Island, but at least I'm the one paying the bill," Edward said. He saw that Elinor nearly laughed at the idea of his sending Lucy away with his brother. But Elinor didn't laugh out loud. She resembled the Elinor Dashwood Edward met at Isabella von Ridderbusch's party nearly eight months ago, restrained, elegant, dignified, but not happy.

"What happens when she comes back?" Elinor asked.

Edward shrugged. He really had no idea. "She'll go back to Pennsylvania. I'm staying here. But what about you? When are you going to come back to the apartment?"

Elinor shook her head and said, "You know I can't do that. Not now."

"But it's half yours, no mostly yours," Edward said quickly. "You had it redecorated. You found it for us. You love it here. I'll leave. You should be able to use it."

"If I did, I'd just ruin your entire relationship with Lucy. She has made her views on our living situation very clear," Elinor said, looking up and smiling supportively. "I won't be the cause of any of your unhappiness. I know why you didn't tell Lucy about me, and I'm OK with that. She loves you very much."

Edward nearly winced hearing Elinor say that. She obviously thought that he should marry Lucy Steele. She must think that he actually did want to. How could she know him as well as he knew she knew him and still think he could possibly be in love with Lucy Steele?

Maybe she was just trying to make it easier for him. She didn't want to have anything more to do with him and she was using Lucy as an excuse.

"I should have told you about Lucy, though," Edward said.

Elinor nodded. "I just thought we could trust each other."

"We can."

"I hope so," Elinor said. "But everyone will be missing me soon, and I don't want to have to explain. It's for the best, you know. But I would like to see you again. I still want us to be friends."

"Yes, friends, we've always been great friends," Edward agreed. He couldn't stand to completely lose her friendship. "By the way, Bildungsroman Blues is coming out next week. I don't know which bookstores will have it. Nowhere big."

Elinor's eyes lit up at the news; she couldn't help being still interested in his novel. "I'll be the first in line to buy it, wherever it does turn up," she said. "But I really must go."

"Wait, Elinor, what about you? What are you going to do? Mrs. Jennings said that you were saying good-bye at the hospital today. What's going on?"

Elinor looked down at the table and avoided looking at him while she said, "I'm moving out of the city. I've been making some phone calls recently. I'm going to be starting medical school in the fall after all. At Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, so I can be close to my family. I know it's last minute, but what's the use of knowing important people if you can't ask them for a favor when you need-or want to. So I'll be having some movers come for my things..."

"You're moving to Baltimore?" Edward repeated.

Elinor nodded. "You knew we weren't going to stay in the city forever. You are only staying here for a few more months before you go back home, too. That's what Lucy says, at least. I've already paid off the rent until the end of the year, so you can stay here."

"But this is your home, too. And what about Lucy?"

"Lucy?" Elinor repeated. "You said she's going back to-"

"No, our Lucy, the cat," Edward said.

The absurdity of the name struck Elinor for probably the first time since the entire Lucy Steele episode began. She actually did laugh, longer than she probably intended or normally would. Edward couldn't join her laughter, but it was good to see her laughing again.

She finally said, "That night when I brought Lucy home, you wanted to name her Alvin but I insisted on Lucy."

"Yes, and I kept on getting confused whenever you started talking about her. I kept on thinking you figured it all out and were going to kill me."

They both could laugh now. Things had been so different then.

"This is Lucy's home," Elinor said, "I mean our Lucy." They both smiled again. She quickly added, "Of course, if you think Lucy Steele-"

"No, no," Edward said. "That Lucy doesn't belong here. But what about rent? Can't I pay you my share still?"

"No need," Elinor said quickly. "Money doesn't matter. Lucy says you're going to be married in February, so I'm sure you'll be back in Pennsylvania by January."

"We haven't actually set a real date or anything," Edward bashfully added.

Elinor looked at him and said, "You ought to talk to your fianc‚e, then. She's already looking into booking churches."

But that wasn't the important thing to talk about. He couldn't tell Elinor about his real feelings for her, not when they were joking about Edward's actual wedding. Somehow Edward would get out of the wedding. He couldn't possibly marry Lucy Steele anymore. And maybe later, much later, he would meet Elinor again...

"Good luck with med school," he said.

Elinor smiled and said, "Thanks. I think it's time I went back to real life and working towards my career."

She tried to look happy about her future plans, but Edward could see that she wasn't looking forward to medical school. She still didn't really know what she wanted from life. What if she was starting medical school only to have an excuse to get away from him? But no, Elinor would never let her emotions govern her like that. He wished he could talk to her about what she felt about medical school now. It would be really great if they could just tell each other the truth about everything...

He couldn't help himself from being nostalgic and saying, "We've had fun here, haven't we?"

She nodded sadly. "Of course."

"And you'll visit?"

"Maybe," she said. She got up from her chair and said, "I have to meet some people in Soho for dinner, so I really should be going."

"I like the dress," Edward said, as a final civility. "It's new, isn't it? I haven't seen you wear it before."

Elinor looked down at the dress and nodded. She never paid much attention to what she wore. Edward was always more aware of what she wore than she was. She said, "Yes, it's new. Mrs. Jennings loves to shop."

She was standing up now, moving towards the doorway. Edward didn't want to conversation to end, not yet. He said, "We'll see each other before you leave, right?"

"I'm leaving for Maryland before the others. I have a lot to prepare. So I'll be gone, probably even before Lucy gets back," Elinor said, turning around quickly. "I should probably have left a while ago. I'm going to be late. Bye."

"Bye," Edward said, but she had already left the room.

He heard the door closing after her, and he knew that he wouldn't be seeing her again any time soon.

What do you do when the woman you love goes away forever? You feel sorry for yourself and mope. At least, that's what Edward did. He gathered all the bottles of wine they had in the apartment and found all his pictures from the last few months. How had he not realized he was in love with Elinor? He had tons of pictures of her in their favorite places all around New York City. And he had pictures of them together, smiling and laughing together. They had been happy.

Late that night, after the $10.99 Bordeaux and three-quarters through the $8.50 bottle of Chardonnay, Edward was disturbed by the phone ringing. If he was going to look at old pictures of Elinor and him while getting drunk off cheap wine by himself, he didn't want to be distracted from that goal. He let the answering machine pick up.

He cringed when he heard that it was the same message from before, recorded by Elinor, of course, saying that they weren't home. He would have to change that. Or maybe he should just stop using phones. Phones weren't much good. All phone calls used to be for Elinor, and she wouldn't be living there any more.

"Edward? Are you around? It's Elinor. I know it's late, it's just that, well, it's Marianne. She's missing. Have you seen her? I don't know how you could have, but, well, if somehow you do see her, call me. Please."

Luckily the phone was not far from where Edward had been sitting. He managed to pick up the phone before she hung up.

"Elinor? What happened?" he asked. He had never heard her that upset before. She always took things in stride.

"You're there? You sound like I woke you up."

Actually, that would probably be him sounded like an inarticulate drunk, but Edward could not think of a witty way to say that, so he grunted some sort of agreement and carried the cordless phone into the kitchen. Water, lots of water...

"But Marianne, what's wrong with her?" he managed to say, in between colliding with the kitchen table and before nearly knocking over a chair. Marianne had impeccable timing, getting lost and putting Elinor in an emotional crisis precisely when he was not in a state to be of much help.

"She didn't go out to dinner tonight. I thought she was just going to sit in the hotel room and cry some more. But she went back to Allenham. I should have known she'd do something like that, even though it's been days since she's been there last. Thank god John Willoughby and Eliza weren't there. She was seen leaving at around 9:00, but then she just disappeared."

"Did you try that other place?" Edward asked, now filling a glass with tap water. What was the name of the other club Willoughby had? He used to know...

"You mean Combe Magna? They haven't seen her either. John and Eliza haven't seen her. Who else does she know in this city? I wish Chris was still here, but you know about his leaving. I shouldn't have left her alone. I should have stayed with her. It's all my fault."

Elinor never panicked. Edward still was trying to groggily follow what she said, but he could only slowly drink the water. Maybe eating something would help, too. But that would require more stumbling around the kitchen. Sitting at the kitchen table sounded much more appealing.

"It's not your fault," he finally said after too long of a pause. "It's her own damn fault." Wait, did he say that? Elinor was panicking over her beloved little sister and he was insulting the missing sister? He shouldn't talk.

"Who else should I call? I can't really call the police yet. It has really only been one evening, three or four hours since she was last seen. She could have found somewhere else to go. But where can I look? Oh, god, what if she's trying to call here and I have the phone tied up? Thanks for listening. I should go. Bye."

Edward still held the phone to his ear, listening now to the dial tone. Elinor was really, really worried. He should go to her hotel to be with her. But he was still really drunk.

Alcohol was a very evil thing. She didn't ask him to come over. Maybe she would call again. He made his way to the bathroom and spent the rest of the evening lying on the couch with the phone and lots of water at hand. But the phone didn't ring before he fell asleep.

The next morning he woke up with a huge headache, thanks to all that cheap wine, and then he remembered Elinor. He saw there was a message on their answering machine, no doubt from her.

"Hi Edward. It's Elinor. We're flying Marianne down to Washington DC so she can be by mother. Chris arranged it. She's alive. They found her. But she was in an accident. It's not good. I'm going with her, of course. Mrs. Jennings is still waiting for Lucy to get back. So ... I guess this is good-bye."

And she had hung up.

Marianne Dashwood was fine, at least. But Elinor was gone. And she wasn't coming back.

Henry Tilney was sitting at Catherine's old desk when Edward came in to work. He was writing, no doubt his next letter to Catherine. He had that smile he wore whenever he was writing to her or reading one of her letters. If Edward were in a better mood, he'd make some sarcastic comment about how crazy Henry must be for the kid. But Edward was in a horrible mood. From this day until the day he died, he would always be in a horrible mood.

"Elinor's gone for good," he announced.

Henry looked up from letter and said, "Your Elinor Dashwood?"

"She's moving out. She's going to be going to medical school at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. She's not coming back. She wants to still be friends, but, well, she's going to be in Baltimore!"

"Wait, she's moving out of that huge apartment you two share?" Henry asked. His thoughts were obviously still focused more on his letter and his own concerns than with the ruination of Edward's life. People in love, even people who wouldn't actually admit that they were in love, were all selfish, annoying people.

Henry did not suspect the musings he was inspiring in his old friend, and instead asked, "Can I ask you a really big favor that you're going to hate?"

"What?" Edward asked reluctantly.

"Let me move in with you. That way I could actually be away from my father and I could actually manage to see Catherine instead of just write all these letters," Henry said.

In the last week Edward had delivered three letters from Catherine and he knew that Henry wrote one every single morning. As far as Edward was concerned, there was no way Henry could deny being in love with Catherine Morland now. He was willing to move away from his family's Long Island mansion to live in a Midtown apartment with Edward just so he could be able to see her more often. If Edward's entire future hadn't been reduced to a mere mockery of what he had once dreamed, he would certainly be laughing at Henry Tilney right now.

Instead, Edward was merely sensible. He asked, "Will the General be OK with that? I don't want to lose my job because of your love life."

"Who's talking about my love life? It's quality of life. I'm a grown man. I shouldn't be still living with my father. And you have all that room," Henry said. That response really would have made Edward laugh a lot. Maybe if he could remember it in the future, he'd be able to enjoy laughing heartily at it. But Edward was still miserable, and miserable people don't laugh at their friends, no matter how ridiculous their friends were being.

"Well, OK," Edward said. Fishing for sympathy, he added, "Once Elinor moves her things out." Surely Henry would realize the extent of his personal tragedy now. Elinor was really moving all her things out.

Henry smiled blithely and said, "Thanks, Edward! I'll write Cathy and tell her at once. She'll be thrilled."

And Henry said he wasn't moving for the sake of his love life? Edward could so easily make some comment about Henry and Catherine's friendship, but he still could only concentrate on the idea that Elinor was going to be so out of his life that he'd be living with someone else. What about all those poptarts in the kitchen? Would the movers take those away, too?

The phone rang and Henry, still in far too good of a mood for the first day of the rest of Edward Ferrars's miserable life, answered it. "Hi!" he said simply. Not very professional. "Yes, this is Northanger Pianos. ... Henry Tilney, the head salesman. ... He's my father. ... She's my sister. ... Ooooh..." His expression changed; Edward guessed it was the Corleones. "Ed's here. ... OK. ... OK. ... Bye."

Now looking confused and scared at the same time, he said, "It was the Don. Himself. He wants to talk to the General this afternoon. He said it was about Ellie."

"Oh," Edward said. He had told Henry about the planned dinner at the Corleones, but because the General's increased watchfulness over his employees, neither Edward nor Henry had been able to get in touch with Ellie to find out how it went. The Corleones had also not called for Edward since then.

"You also have another appointment with them tomorrow. It's one of their pianos. The Don said 9:30. I'm guessing if there's a conflict you change your prior appointment, right?"

Edward nodded. But now he was afraid for Ellie. Was this good or bad news?

Henry Tilney was now living in a suitcase from Elinor's old room. It was a painful idea for Edward at first, but it was logical. The movers had called and said they were coming the next day. With Marianne's accident occupying all of Mrs. Jennings' thoughts, Robert and Lucy had gone immediately from Rhode Island back to Pennsylvania, just stopping by New York long enough to pick up their luggage while Edward was at work.

Henry was out at the movies with Catherine (some new Mafia movie they were both very skeptical about but were morally obligated to see as huge Mafia-movie fanatics), so Edward was alone in the apartment. Elinor wasn't coming back. His agent and editors had called a few times about details for promoting his book. Apparently the small-press reviewers liked his novel. So that was something going for him. A half dozen people in Greenwich Village would probably actually buy his book and enjoy it. So his stay in New York wouldn't have been completely for nothing. Just mostly nothing.

Elinor Dashwood wasn't coming back. He couldn't go back to Sussex, PA, and marry Lucy Steele. He couldn't stay in New York City indefinitely, tuning pianos and hoping the Corleones won't kill him. He needed something new in his life.

He needed a new book.

He turned on his old computer for the first time in weeks and waited as it slowly booted up. He didn't even have a real idea for a book yet. There were always dozens of characters traipsing around his head, more than willing to come out on the page if he could think of something interesting for them to do. What should they do?

They should fall in love. And they should actually be happy. That was the advantage of being the writer: you could give your characters happy endings, whether they deserved them or not. People who didn't deserve happy endings, like himself, should still be able to live happily ever after. Just because you spend the majority of the story making a mess of things, you shouldn't be denied your happy ending.

With a fresh feeling of empowerment, Edward Ferrars happily went to work.