Chapter 1

Posted on: 2013-06-12

"They're late. Typical," Elizabeth muttered.

"Let's get another drink. Caroline just texted to say they're 5 minutes away," said Jane.

"Yeah, she also said that half an hour ago," said Elizabeth as she got up. "Another Malbec?"

Jane nodded, and Elizabeth walked over to the bar. The Bennet sisters' obsession with Argentine wine was finally being rewarded with the proliferation of Malbecs all over the city. Elizabeth surveyed the bar as she waited for her order. It was a warm, inviting space that distinguished itself from the hundreds of other wine bars in the city with its richly colored murals and creative appetizer menu. The prices were high enough to ensure the clientele did not comprise of NYU students with fake IDs; yet, occasionally a young couple with a taste for the refined could be spied at the bar. Elizabeth saw one such couple who, judging from their diffident banter, awkward pauses and forced laughter, were obviously on a first date. Their eyes shone with the promise of love not yet attained and dreams not yet realized, and Elizabeth wondered how many years would elapse before the truth of life and love and dreams would dawn on them. Some dreams were unattainable and others yet were disappointing when realized. A happy life was one that tempered exuberant expectations with rationality and pragmatism for there is nothing more damaging to the soul than a mind mired with regrets and doubts. And Elizabeth reasoned, it was impossible to harbor regrets if you adjusted your expectations to account for the possibility of failure and rejection.

Elizabeth thanked the bartender for the drinks and headed back to the table. In her absence, the rest of their party had arrived, allowing Elizabeth a moment to assess the new arrivals unnoticed. She recognized Caroline's brother from pictures and thought that pictures did not do him justice. His blond hair and blue eyes gave him the air of a model from a J. Crew catalog, but his disarming smile and infectious laugh allowed him to escape what would otherwise have been Elizabeth's derision. He was happily chatting with Jane, and judging from the smile on the latter's face, Elizabeth suspected the conversation was agreeable for both parties involved. She then stole a look at his friend, who was talking to Caroline and instantly understood the attraction. He was tall with dark hair and eyes and the kind of intense masculinity one expects from perfume ads. His features were objectively handsome, yet lacked the warmth and openness of Charles Bingley. He did not seem the least bit interested in talking to Caroline and in fact, appeared quite bored by his current circumstance. Elizabeth determined that the media heir was likely unhappy to be socializing with the members of the underclass, a thought that only served to amuse her. So she walked over to the table with a small smile on her face, prepared to be entertained by an evening of Caroline's fawning over an unhappy recipient of her affections.

"Liz, there you are!" Caroline exclaimed when she saw her friend approach the table. "Come, let me introduce you. Liz, this is my brother Charles, and this is his friend Will."

"Nice to meet you," said Elizabeth as she shook their hands.

Charles smiled at her brightly. "So Jane was just telling me that you're a writer."

"Trying to be," said Elizabeth with a wry smile.

"That's great! What kind of writing do you do?"

"Freelance mostly, although I've been toying with steadier gigs recently," said Elizabeth.

"Very cool. You and Will will have a lot to talk about. He's in the media business," said Charles.

Elizabeth looked at Darcy. "So I heard."

Caroline jumped in. "Yes. His company owns a little bit of everything. TV, movies, newspapers, magazines."

"Impressive," said Elizabeth with a little more sarcasm than she had intended.

Darcy looked at her, but said nothing. Jane said, "Why don't we sit down?"

Everyone followed Jane's suggestion and sat down. It quickly became apparent to Elizabeth that she was going to become a fifth wheel. Charles and Jane had eyes only for each other, and much to Darcy's apparent chagrin, Caroline commanded his full attention. Elizabeth participated in bits of both conversations, but largely amused herself by observing the interactions. She learned that Charles ran the family business, Netherfield Wine, which he had taken over from his father after his death. He had spent the past five years in Europe understanding the supply chain and operations of their more established vineyards and was back in the States to oversee the company from headquarters. From Caroline's previous stories and descriptions, Elizabeth had gathered that Charles often mixed business with pleasure during his travels, so she watched him intently. Jane seemed smitten already, and Elizabeth was determined to protect her sister if it became apparent that Jane would be another passing fancy. But for now, she was satisfied with what she observed; genuine warmth and an undeniable connection. Caroline was clearly not faring nearly as well, and her exasperation was becoming obvious. Perhaps noticing the deterioration in the moods of his sister and friend, Charles offered to get the next round and asked Darcy to join him.

The bar was becoming more crowded, so as they slowly made their way, Charles said, "How you doing?"

"Ok. Caroline is talking my ear off, as usual."

"Want me to talk to her?"

"Nah, I can handle her just fine."

"Sorry, Will. I thought she would have gotten over it by now." Charles paused and then smiled. "Imagine how bad it would be if you were actually nice to her."

"Hey, I resent that. I am nice to her."

Charles laughed. "I'm only kidding."

"You seem to be having a good time."

"Yeah, Jane is awesome. Do you know she runs her own cafe in the Village?"

"Yes, I was there when she told us, remember?"

"Right, well, it's pretty amazing. She's been in the catering business for ages and finally took the plunge and started her own place. I am going to check it out. It sounds great."

"I'm sure it is."

"I have a good feeling about this one."

"You have a good feeling about all of them, Charles," Darcy pointed out.

"What can I say? I'm an eternal optimist."

"Somehow I don't think that's the word the ladies would use to describe you."

Charles blushed. "So, you talk much to her sister? She seems nice."

"No, I'm not really in the mood."

"Not in the mood for what? Making conversation?"

Darcy nodded. "I'm really not in the mood for another starving artist type who's just looking for a husband to bail her out of her life. I mean freelancing? C'mon. Why don't you just put up a sign that says I'm not interested in a real job?"

"You are being way too harsh. Why don't you try to get to know her before judging her?"

Darcy said nothing, and the two friends grabbed the drinks and headed back to the table. Unbeknownst to them, Elizabeth had overheard most of their conversation. She had been headed to the bathroom, which was on the far side of the bar, and even though she normally would not eavesdrop, the crowded bar gave her no alternative. Elizabeth smirked to herself as she absorbed what she had heard. Darcy could not have been more of a caricature if he tried, and somehow that amused Elizabeth more than it annoyed her. She had had high hopes for this media tycoon, and he exceeded all her expectations. She could not wait for Anne to arrive so that they could laugh at the absurdity together for although her pride was somewhat wounded, she realized the entertainment value far outweighed any other considerations.

When Elizabeth returned to the table, she saw that her wish had been granted as Anne had arrived and was chatting with Darcy and Caroline. "Anne, you're here."

Anne looked at Elizabeth. "You are not going to believe this. Remember how I told you my cousin was moving to New York?"

"Uh huh," mumbled Elizabeth.

"Well, this is him." Anne pointed at Darcy.

"Huh," was all Elizabeth managed to say.

"What a coincidence," chimed in Caroline.

"Indeed," Anne said with a frown.

"How are you related?" asked Caroline.

"Our mothers were sisters," said Anne.

"Well, how exciting!" said Caroline.

"I really should have put two and two together when Liz told me that you had a brother. Bingley is not that common of a name," said Anne.

"Yeah. This is going to be fun!" Caroline practically cooed as she stood up. "Anyone need to go to the ladies'?"

"I'll go with you," said Jane.

"I'll come keep you guys company while you wait in line," said Charles.

Elizabeth sat down next to Anne, unable to comprehend how her friend, who shared her interests and views on almost everything of consequence, could be related to the Darcy she had been witnessing and ridiculing all evening. Elizabeth had met Anne de Bourgh at NYU when she had spoken on a panel on wartime journalism almost four years ago. Anne had waited for her after the panel had concluded and had asked if she could join her for coffee. After a slight initial hesitation, Elizabeth had agreed, and it had been the beginning of a beautiful friendship. That night they had talked for hours about the war, about politics, about religion. They had remained in touch, and Anne had been one of the first to know when Elizabeth decided to relocate to New York from DC a year later. Anne possessed the combination of intelligence, good sense and wit that Elizabeth greatly admired and wished she could emulate. Ostensibly, a wealthy tax attorney and a struggling freelance writer should have had nothing in common, and yet, Anne and Elizabeth defied all odds and became the best of friends.

Anne sensed her friend's turmoil and said, "I see we have shocked you."

Elizabeth recovered her voice. "A little surprised, that's all." She glanced at Darcy. "The two of you are very different. I wouldn't have taken you for relatives."

Anne laughed. "I take it as more of a compliment to me. Darce, have you not been behaving yourself?"

"I don't know what you mean," said Darcy with a frown.

Anne looked at him with a smile. "Has he been frowning like this all night, Liz?"

Elizabeth smiled. "All night."

"Well, he's had to hang out with Caroline, so I guess I can't blame him," said Anne.

"Yeah, I guess," said Elizabeth. So this is the cousin she wanted to set me up with?

"So have you heard about Liz's work yet, Darce?" asked Anne.

"A little," said Darcy.

"She's a writer."

"So I gathered," Darcy said with a little impatience.

"She reported from Iraq during the war."

"Oh?" The subtle change in Darcy's tone was impossible to miss. "How long were you there?"

How's that for a real job? "Four years," said Elizabeth.

"That must have been an interesting experience," offered Darcy.

"That's one way to put it," said Elizabeth.

"How would you put it?" asked Darcy.

"It was a life changing experience," said Elizabeth, her heart beating faster. "In pretty much every way."

Anne noticed the strain in Elizabeth's voice, so she changed the subject. "So Darce, you all settled in?"

"More or less."

"Got tired of Boston, did you?"

Darcy nodded. "I needed a change of scenery. But besides that, we acquired that building on 6th Ave. It's going to be our new headquarter. More space, better lighting. It's about time we moved to New York, anyway. Boston never did make much sense as base camp."

"I see," said Anne. She glanced at Elizabeth, who seemed deep in thought. "Liz, Darce can tell you all about the media world and why it's all going to h***."

"It's just supply and demand," observed Darcy.

Elizabeth looked at him. "You underestimate the intelligence of your audience, I think." She paused, then smiled. "But what do I know, I'm just a freelancer." Elizabeth's phone buzzed, so she got up. "Excuse me. I need to take this."

When she was out of earshot, Anne glared at Darcy. "Ok, out with it. What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Darcy protested.

"She seems mad. Did you say something to her?"

"No. Well...-"

"Darce..."

"I may have told Charles I didn't think freelancing was a real job," Darcy said softly.

"Are you kidding me?!"

"No," Darcy sighed. "Maybe she heard me?"

"You think?" Anne said. "Darce, you are such an idiot sometimes."

Darcy couldn't really protest. "Look, it's just been a long day. Charles dragged me here, and I've been dealing with Caroline all evening. I just assumed Liz was like Caroline's other friends."

"You mean shallow, totally vapid, gold-digger?"

Darcy smiled. "Well, yeah."

"You couldn't be further from the truth."

"Yeah, I'm starting to figure that out."

"You really need to learn how to make a better first impression."

"I know, I know."

Anne replayed his words in her head and realized that the battle for Elizabeth's approval had become a lot more uphill.

"So that was fun," said Jane as they walked back to their apartment.

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes. I think some of us had more fun than others."

Jane blushed. "I had a good time, I'm not going to lie."

"He seems nice," said Elizabeth.

"He does, right? I'm going to see him for dinner this week."

"Oh yeah? That's great."

"I haven't felt this way in a long time. It's like we've known each other forever."

"You seemed to get along really well."

"Yeah. He's very different from Caroline."

"You can say that again."

Jane laughed. "Poor Caroline. It doesn't seem like she made much headway with Will."

"No, I think that's safe to say. I tried to warn her."

"Well, you never know. Maybe he'll come around. He seemed a little out of it."

"Out of it? Jane, I know you want to think well of everyone, but I can safely say that Will Darcy is one of the most arrogant and condescending guys I've ever met."

"Really? That bad? He's a little stiff, as Caroline said, but I didn't think he was that bad."

"Do you want to know what I heard him say?" Elizabeth asked and then repeated the contents of the conversation between Charles and Darcy. "You still want to defend him?"

"No. He shouldn't have said that obviously. But everyone has bad moments sometimes. It doesn't mean he's all bad."

"Maybe not. Don't worry, I can be civil to him. Beyond that, I can't make any promises. Anne is going to be disappointed."

"I guess this was the cousin she wanted to set you up with?"

"Yeah. Well, I thought her track record couldn't get worse, but I was wrong," Elizabeth said, then paused. "There are few people whom I really love and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more I'm dissatisfied with it."

"I wish you wouldn't be so dismissive of people."

"And I wish people wouldn't always disappoint me so much."

"You don't really give anyone much of a chance, Liz."

"Maybe. I'd welcome being proven wrong."

"I just want you to be happy."

"I know. I don't know if it's in the cards for me."

"You have to want to be happy first."

"And you don't think I do?"

Jane looked at her sister and shook her head slowly. "Not really."

"You may be right. Is that so wrong?"

Jane sighed. "I know things haven't gone the way you planned, but you're here now. You have to make the most of it."

"Don't worry, Jane, I'm working on plan B."

"Can I help?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I think I'm on my own on this one."

Jane stopped and gave her sister a hug. "You know I'm here for you, always."

"I know." Elizabeth changed the subject. "So, what do you think Caroline's next move will be?"

"I think she's going to keep throwing herself at him until he tells her to stop."

Elizabeth laughed in agreement. "You just have to let me know when to step in and bring her back to reality."

"Once upon a time, I, Zhuangzi, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, a veritable butterfly, enjoying itself to the full of its bent, and not knowing it was Zhuangzi. Suddenly I awoke, and came to myself, the veritable Zhuangzi. Now I do not know whether it was then I dreamt I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man."
- Zhuangzi, Chinese philosopher

Elizabeth often experienced that state of suspension between consciousness and dreams, those few moments when life holds infinite promise and sometimes, infinite confusion. As the fog lifted from her mind, Elizabeth could distinguish reality from fiction and often wondered, as Zhuangzi had, whether she had been dreaming then or if she was dreaming now. For what was reality after all? Did human beings not all construct their own version of reality, the convenient stories that keep the mind at peace and the heart at bay. Was it still the truth if no one was aware of its existence? If we all collectively choose to ignore what might otherwise be considered reality, could we create our own reality? Elizabeth could not decide, but she knew she had to find the answer. Her reality was untenable, and she knew she had to construct another. The trouble was deciding what should comprise this alternate reality. Elizabeth was a journalist after all; creating fiction was not her forte.

She thought about her sister and Caroline and Anne and how uncomplicated life could be if one's reality intersected with one's dreams. She had no idea if Caroline had always wanted to be a designer, but it seemed to sustain her well enough. Anne seemed to be living the exact version of her life that she had always conceived, as odd as it seemed to Elizabeth sometimes, for who really ever wants to be a tax attorney? But Anne did and always had, and it seemed to make her very happy and content. Where others saw boring minutiae, Anne saw beautiful challenges and elegant solutions, and she delighted in solving the puzzles that most tax challenges usually presented. As for Jane, Elizabeth had never seen her happier. Her love of cooking was really just an extension of her predilection for nurturing, and her cafe was a perfect representation of her ideals. It was cozy, comfortable and a home away from home for countless regulars, from college students to young professionals to old couples in the neighborhood.

So, Elizabeth wondered, what should be her reality?

Her mind wandered to that impossibly complicated place with that hot, arid air and those bright blue eyes, and she allowed herself to drift for a while. That could never be her reality, but she had been happy then, had she not? She could not even remember anymore. Her rational mind would not allow her to dwell on that line of thinking for too long, and she soon scoffed at the idea. Those fleeting moments of happiness would have faded, and she was certain that she was inventing too many scenarios that would never have come to pass. Her present and her future could never contain the elements of her past that had really sustained her, and maybe it was the best possible outcome. It was more practical, anyway. She lived in a world where journalism was dying a slow, painful, inevitable death. It was ironic given the notion that content would rule supreme in the brave new media world, but somehow the whole model collapses when you realize that your content can't be monetized. The issue was not really content, but the type of content that Elizabeth had chosen to make her trade. In a world of instant gratification and constant hedonism, the demand for in-depth analysis was shrinking rapidly for any issue, let alone foreign affairs or conflicts. In this new paradigm, journalists such as Elizabeth were an exotic species that would be looked upon with wonder in another 20 years. Did you know they used to cover wars from the ground, they would say? They would write stories and publish pictures in those things they called newspapers and magazines. How remarkable and quaint.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to suppress the thought that had been cropping up in her head a little too frequently. She almost wished she hadn't made it back.

Chapter 2

Posted on: 2013-06-20

Elizabeth's room, The Hamra Hotel, Baghdad - January 20, 2006

"I have something to tell you." Elizabeth bit her lips nervously.

"Yeah?" Dylan looked up at her from his comfortable position on her lap.

"I got an embed assignment."

Dylan instantly sat up. "Where to?"

"Basra." She paused. "And that's all I can say. You know, protocol."

"Right. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow night."

"And you just thought to tell me?"

"Well, I wasn't sure until this morning, and I didn't want you to worry."

Dylan was pacing. "Yeah, well, I'm worried."

"Look, I can't cover this war from the safety of this hotel room. And besides, remember what happened in October? Nowhere is safe."

Dylan recalled the day a truck bomb had destroyed the lobby of The Palestine Hotel, the terrible hour when he hadn't known whether Elizabeth was safe. He had only known her a month then, but Baghdad seemed to work on its own timeline. A month had been enough. "Ok, I get it. You need to go for the story. But if you worked a steady gig, maybe at the New York Times or one of the networks, you'd have more security...?"

"That wouldn't make sense, and you know it. If I worked for those guys, I'd be forced to report from the hotel or the green zone. And that's not what I came here to do. If I wanted a desk job, I would have stayed in DC."

Dylan stopped pacing, walked over to her and held her face in his hands. "You really want to do this?"

"More than anything. A lot of guys have been writing about the Jameat and the militias in Basra, but I think I have a unique angle here. I'll be safe. And careful. Don't worry."

"Do you guys have a good translator?"

"I don't need one. You don't have any faith in my language skills?" Elizabeth spoke Arabic and French fluently. And a little Farsi, if forced.

Dylan laughed. "I do, darling, but it still helps to have a local."

"Yeah, we have a guy. I'm not an amateur. I have been here almost three years now."

"Right." Dylan sat down next to her. "So I guess this is what it feels like to be in love."

Her heart soared at his words, but she managed to say nonchalantly. "Yeah? What does it feel like?"

"Terrifying."

"That's because we're in a war zone, stupid."

"Maybe."

Elizabeth smiled. "I bet you use that line on all your war zone girlfriends."

"You're the only one, Liz. The only one that counts. That has ever counted."

Elizabeth sighed in satisfaction and rested her head on his shoulders. "You ever wonder if any of this makes a difference? All that we're doing? The romance of invasion and freedom is over. What do we have left? Handful of staff reporters and freelancers still kicking around here. If we tell the truth, they say we're biased. If we don't, then we're government hacks. I feel like I'm speaking to myself sometimes. Like no one cares."

"I've got news for you. No one cares. Or at least not that much."

"Then what are we doing here?"

"That's what I asked you once, remember? Look, I've been doing this longer than you. The one thing I've learned is the moment you need to stop is when you start trying to find some validation. People will listen to you at first, maybe you'll even make the front page or lead the news cycle for a few days. But it always stops. The conflicts go on, but the world caring part you're looking for stops. Save yourself a lot of trouble and stop expecting anyone else to care about your work as much as you do."

Elizabeth said nothing.

Dylan continued, "Don't let it get you down. That doesn't mean what you're doing isn't important. You want to know why I'm here?"

She nodded.

"Because I want to be part of the historical record. When this war is studied 10 years, 50 years, 100 years from now, you and I will be part of the record. Your writings and my photographs will help tell the story of what happened here. Maybe not everything will be as clear or thorough as it should, but it'll be a start. That's our contribution."

"Yeah, I guess. Is that enough?"

"It has to be. But only you can answer that for yourself."

"I grew up wanting to be Christiane Amanpour. I guess I have that in common with Rory Gilmore," Elizabeth said with a chuckle. "She made it look so effortless, and yet, what she was doing meant something. It was inspiring. So I had a plan. I studied languages and international relations and worked my way up the ladder."

"And here you are."

"And here I am. With not a clue if this plan of mine makes sense anymore."

"Reporting from conflict zones isn't for everyone."

"Hey, I can handle it, if that's what you mean?" Elizabeth was offended.

"I know you can, darling. Just because you can doesn't mean you have to. Or should."

"Yeah, I know. Well, we'll see. I'm here now. When this is all over, I guess I'll figure out what's next."

"You will." He paused. "There really isn't any training that can prepare you for what it's like to report from a war, Liz. We all go through it; the questions, the emotions, the doubt. Just when you think you've figured it all out, everything changes again."

"Yeah."

"And no one back home really gets it either. They don't know how to deal with returning troops. They definitely don't know how to deal with people like us, without any visible scars. Not your family, not your friends, not your editors."

"So what do you do? How do you cope?"

"Find a community of like minded people. There's enough of us out there. It's gotten me this far." Dylan got up. "It's late. Let's get ready for bed?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I'm just going to just drop Jane a quick note. I'm going to give you her info ... just in case."

Dylan said nothing, but his eyes registered his disapproval. She watched him as he went to the bathroom, thought for a moment, then smiled as she wrote to her sister.

From: Elizabeth Bennet [ebennet27@yahoo.com]
Date: January 20, 2006 11:51 PM
To: Jane Bennet [jbennet16@yahoo.com]
Subject: Hey

Hey there. Sorry it's been so crazy and that I canceled our phone date last weekend. I was just prepping for this assignment I got. I'm about to go offline for a little while. Don't know exactly how long yet. Will call you when I get back. I'll send mom and dad and everyone else an update too, but just call them and make sure they're not freaking out? I know the TV coverage hasn't been exactly easy to watch lately, but I promise I'll be really careful. The guys I'll be with are the best.

I'm bummed we didn't get to talk. I promise I'll give you a more detailed update on Dylan when I get back. He's such a sweetheart, Jane. I am really falling for this guy. I don't know exactly what that means yet. It's all so crazy here. But for once, I'm trying not to think about 'forever' and just enjoying the 'now.' He's really great... he just gets me. Like he knows how intense and serious (silly serious, as you say) I get sometimes, and he lets me be that way, but also makes fun of me. I laugh so much sometimes it feels wrong. We are in Baghdad after all!

I can't wait for you to meet him. I gave him your info, btw, just in case.

Anyway, talk soon. Hope all's well with you. I want more updates from YOU.
Love,
Liz

"I think they're going to get married, Liz."

"Mom, we don't know that yet."

"But Jane told me that things are going well."

"They are, but that doesn't mean they're getting married," said Elizabeth with a sigh. She would never understand why Jane felt the need to share everything with their mother. "They've only been going out a month, mom. Relax."

"I hope you're not discouraging her."

"I'm not. I like Charles."

"He's really successful, and Jane seems to like him. You guys aren't getting any younger."

"Thanks, mom."

"I'm being serious!"

"I know you are."

"You girls think you have all the time in the world, but if you don't make yourselves available, you'll end up old and alone like your poor friend Charlotte."

"Mom. I promise you, I am not doing anything to discourage Jane from going out with Charles. Ok?"

That seemed to satisfy Mrs. Bennet, so she said, "So how are things with you?"

"Fine. I'm just going to meet my editor."

"Have you thought more about that job with the Times?"

"Yeah. I'm thinking it over."

"You can't just freelance forever."

"Yeah, I get that. I'll figure it out, mom."

"So Jane told me that Charles has a friend. Did you meet him?"

"I did, and I'm not interested."

"You're so difficult. I don't know what we're going to do with you."

"Mom, I really don't have time for this. I have to run to my meeting. I'll talk to you later. Say hi to dad."

Elizabeth hung up before Mrs. Bennet could really protest and took a deep breath. She reminded herself that her mother meant well and rejoiced that she had fulfilled her daughterly duties for at least a few weeks. Jane had infinite patience for their mother's antics and hysterics and consequently, found herself fielding calls at all hours several times a week. Elizabeth, on the other hand, could barely handle a call once every two weeks, but managed to suffer through it mostly for her father's sake. When Elizabeth had returned from Iraq, she had lived in DC for almost three years, and it had nearly driven her insane. Her mother was a woman of poor understanding, no tact and limited intelligence. And although Elizabeth's father counteracted her mother's deficiencies with good sense and humor, he did not have the energy, patience or interest to trouble himself beyond the essential. How her parents had sustained over 40 years of marriage was beyond Elizabeth, but they seemed to manage to coexist without killing each other, which, Elizabeth supposed, was the most anyone could expect from the institution.

Elizabeth walked into The Atlantic office building and made her way to the 21st floor. Her editor Elaine Chen was on the phone, so she waited for a few minutes until Elaine waived her in. "Hi, Elaine."

"Liz, please sit down."

Elizabeth sat down and waited patiently as Elaine finished typing on her computer.

"Sorry. It's been a crazy day."

"No problem," said Elizabeth.

"So... I read your story."

Elizabeth nodded.

"Liz, it's great. You got some really good sources, these citizen journalists. I assume you've spoken to them personally?"

"I have."

"Great stuff." Elaine paused.

"I sense there's a 'but' coming."

"I have to be honest, Liz. Your piece is too long."

"I thought you were thinking of running it as the main story in this month's issue?"

"We decided against it. Look, there's interest here to keep running stores on Syria, but we don't really think it makes sense to devote a whole issue to the topic. So we're going to have to pick and choose. Maybe if you could make it a little shorter...- ?"

"So you want me to analyze this civil war in what, 800 words?"

"I understand your frustration."

"Do you?" Elizabeth managed to say as she composed herself.

"You poured your heart and soul into it. I could feel the passion as I read it. But we're barely staying afloat. And cover stories about Syria are really not going to help our circulation."

"I get it."

"It's an excellent piece of reporting. You should still shop it around. Maybe someone else will pick it up?"

Elizabeth smiled. "That's doubtful." She rose to her feet. "Thanks for the time."

"Liz," said Elaine as Elizabeth reached the door. "I'm sorry."

Elizabeth just nodded in response.

"It's good to see you again, Elizabeth. It's been a while."

"Yeah, umm, well... I've been busy."

Elizabeth squirmed uncomfortably. Doctors made her nervous, especially ones who tried to look into your mind and divine your thoughts. Dr. Sarah Matthews was warm and friendly and competent and more importantly, took her insurance, which was by no means guaranteed in New York. Given the lack of consistent employer, Elizabeth was self-insured with the help of Jane and her parents, a fact that she still vehemently despised. She had resisted fiercely at first, but eventually relented when she realized she had few options and too many problems to solve on her own. The physical wounds had been tended to at a hospital outside DC, but Jane had insisted that Elizabeth also see Dr. Matthews when she moved to New York. Elizabeth had agreed in order to placate her sister, and when she was being honest with herself, she would admit that maybe seeing Dr. Matthews had not been such a bad idea after all. For even though Elizabeth prided herself a rational pragmatist, she realized she ached to speak to someone who would just listen to her without an agenda and without any expectations.

"So, tell me. How have you been?"

"Fine," Elizabeth lied.

"So what brings you here today? I see from my notes that it's been more than a year."

"Right, well, like I told your office when I made the appointment, I just think I need some help with my sleep."

"What kind of help are you looking for?"

"I've been having my dreams again. I wake up in the middle of the night and can't go back to sleep." Elizabeth paused. "Can't you just give me something so I won't dream?"

"We could try some sleep medication, Elizabeth, but I have to be honest with you, I'm not sure that is the real solution here."

"Ok, what then? Some sort of sleep lab or something?"

Dr. Matthews looked at her. "How are you doing otherwise?"

"I'm fine."

"Elizabeth, a lot of times difficulty sleeping is really just a symptom of a mind preoccupied, a mind not at ease. Just humor me and talk to me today. If it doesn't help, you don't have to come back. I can prescribe you some sleep medication or send you to a sleep specialist. But it is my opinion that you won't be able to sleep properly until you solve the underlying issues."

"Ok, fine. What do you want to know?"

"Why don't we pick up where we left off? Tell me how you've been."

"I've really been fine, Dr. Matthews. Not much to report. That's why I stopped coming."

"How are you enjoying New York? All settled now?"

"Yeah, I think so." Elizabeth nodded. "I actually like it here. I didn't think I would. Always thought I was more of a DC girl. But I really like the chaos and the bustle. It feels like anything is possible sometimes, even when things are frustrating. It's almost starting to feel like home."

"Good. And you're still living with Jane?"

"I am, yes. Although not sure for how much longer."

"Really? Why is that?"

"Well, she started seeing this guy. It's still pretty early, but I have a good feeling about this one."

"That's great. How does that make you feel?"

"Great, of course," Elizabeth laughed. "Doc, give me some more credit. I'm not having nightmares just because my sister met someone. I'm really happy for Jane. She deserves someone as great as she is. She's had her heart broken one too many times."

"I wasn't implying you weren't happy for your sister."

"So what were you implying?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to know how these developments made you feel."

"Happy. Really happy. I mean, I'm not going to lie, there's a small part of me that would love to live with Jane forever, but obviously that's not realistic."

"And is that the future you want for yourself? Living with Jane?"

"As opposed to getting married and having babies, you mean?" Elizabeth smiled.

"Yes."

"Yeah. I don't really see that for myself."

"Is that because of Dylan?"

Elizabeth stiffened noticeably. "Dylan has nothing to do with this. I was never that excited about the idea of marriage, and I don't particularly want kids."

"I'm sorry I upset you."

"I'm not upset," Elizabeth shot back angrily and then took a deep breath. "Sorry. I just hate it when you do that shrink stuff. Just sneak it in there like that. Anyway, I'm fine. This isn't about Dylan, it's about me. We don't know if Dylan wanted to marry me, anyway."

"If he had asked, would you have said yes?"

"I don't know. Maybe. He didn't ask me, though. So why dwell on it? It's not important. Can we move on?"

"Sure. So how's work been going?"

"Ok. You read the news. A lot going on."

"Have you been writing about the conflicts?"

"Trying to. Hard to do it from here. Even harder to get it published."

"Have you thought about going back?"

"I have."

"And?"

"Doesn't really make sense. Freelancing is so expensive. Got to pay your own way. My parents helped out with my hotels and stuff when I was in Iraq, but I feel bad asking them to do much more for me. They do so much already."

"Could you work as a staff reporter somewhere? Steady paycheck might help."

"Yeah, I could try. But honestly, what's the point? No one wants long analysis on this stuff anymore. The kind of journalism I want to do is dying. I'm better off figuring out something else."

"Are you going to be happy with that?"

"What are the options?" Elizabeth said. "I'm practical. I get the joke. The rules have changed. I'm working on adapting."

"Ok."

"Look, I actually need to run. I didn't think this was going to be a full session. So..."

"Ok, what do you want to do?"

"You really think talking about this mundane stuff is going to help me sleep?"

"I think so. You can always try this, and if it doesn't work, try some medication."

"Fine, you win."

"Next week, same time then?"

"Sure."

"See you then, Elizabeth."

"Bye, Dr. Matthews."

Dr. Matthews watched Elizabeth leave, then focused her attention on her notes and started writing.

"Man, they are way too cute together," said Caroline with half a frown.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," laughed Richard.

"No, not exactly. I'm just suspicious. This is about the time Charles loses interest."

"Maybe it's for real this time?" said Richard.

"Jane seems into him, don't you think Liz?" asked Caroline.

Elizabeth looked at the happy, oblivious couple dancing to a Bob Marley song. "Yeah, I would say so."

"You guys are ridiculous. Just pretend to be happy for them. Caroline, instead of sulking here, why don't you just come dance with me?" Richard stood up and before Caroline could protest, whisked her to dance floor.

Elizabeth smiled at the discomfort apparent on Caroline's face. Even though it had been more than a month since Darcy's arrival, she had made very little progress, but remarkably that had left her more, not less determined. Darcy did not seem the least bit interested in Caroline or dancing; indeed, he barely looked up from his Blackberry when Richard and Caroline left. Elizabeth saw the frown on Caroline's face slowly melt away as Richard twirled her with exaggerated emphasis. Unlike Anne, Elizabeth actually thought they made a nice couple, and if Caroline ever deigned to inhabit the same planet as everyone else, one in which Darcy was never going to marry her, she might see better prospects staring right at her. When Elizabeth had first moved to New York, Anne had set her up with her cousin Richard for a very awkward blind date when they had both discovered that they shared no chemistry whatsoever and really felt more like siblings than potential lovers. Over the years, Richard had almost assumed the role of the brother Elizabeth had never had and along with Anne, formed the backbone of Elizabeth's social circle in the city. She could often be found in the reception area of Fitzwilliam, de Bourgh & Associates waiting for either Anne or Richard and sometimes both. And recently, with Darcy's arrival, she had the unfortunate luck of having to see that gentleman a lot more than she would have otherwise. She still could not fathom how Anne and Richard could be related to him, and as much as they assured her that beneath the gruff exterior, he was really a decent human being, she really wished he would cease gracing them with his company. He seldom spoke and when he did, his words mostly annoyed Elizabeth. He stared at her a great deal, which Elizabeth assumed only meant she had somehow become the primary object of his derision. He exuded this aura of utter disinterestedness and condescension, and she often wondered what could possibly draw him to such evenings, week after week, when he was fully aware of the company he was to expect.

"So... um, how are things?" Darcy said.

Elizabeth was startled to hear his voice. She had almost forgotten he was there. "Uh, fine."

"Didn't you have some big deadline for your Syria piece this week?"

Elizabeth almost choked on her Coke. Since when does he pay attention to anything I have to say? "Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did." She paused to gauge his interest in hearing more. He was eyeing her expectantly, so she continued, "It was a total bust. They don't want to run it anymore."

"Oh really? I'm sorry to hear that. Why did they pass?"

"It's too long. They don't want to make the whole issue about Syria."

"I guess that makes sense."

"That's ridiculous, and you know it." Elizabeth looked at him with the anger she had failed to direct at Elaine. "Why does it make sense? Why does it need to be this way? They could run 11 issues of nonsense for every one that mattered. That's really all I'm asking."

"Well," Darcy said calmly, a little surprised at her tone, "if no one wants that one issue that matters, then who are we to judge?"

"Says the guy whose company spends all its time chasing the next big reality show."

"Reality shows are profitable because they are cheap to produce and people love them. If we didn't chase the next big reality show, we would be doing our shareholders a big disservice."

"So I guess we don't need to have standards anymore?"

"Shakespeare wrote for the masses. Culture evolves. Just because something has mass appeal doesn't mean it's irrelevant or unimportant."

"Wow, did you just compare reality TV to Shakespeare?"

Darcy smiled. "It's an analogy, Liz."

"Not a very good one. Well, congratulations. You are officially part of the problem."

Darcy's smile vanished. He began to respond, then paused and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Ah, sorry. I've just had a long and very annoying day. Didn't mean to take it out on you."

"No worries. You're entitled to your opinions." He said nothing further, going back to his Blackberry.

"Thanks for clarifying that," she mumbled. I'm glad you think I'm allowed to have opinions.

He looked up at her, and she thought she detected a faint smile that vanished as soon as it appeared. He put away his Blackberry and stared at the dance floor for a moment before returning his gaze to her. "So, you want to dance?"

"With you?" She almost choked on her drink for a second time that evening.

"Umm, yeah, I guess. If you want? I mean, everyone else is dancing."

Elizabeth considered his offer for a moment. "No, that's ok. You don't need to take pity on me. I'm ok just sitting here."

Darcy said nothing further, leaving Elizabeth more than a little confused. She soon excused herself and went to the bar. Darcy watched her, almost glad that he was alone to collect his thoughts. Elizabeth Bennet was wildly inappropriate with her strong, sometimes controversial opinions, flashes of anger and general lack of concern for conventional societal norms. Her arguments were delivered with passion and her rebukes with sarcasm. Her dark, sparkling eyes danced with amusement and darkened with pain, hiding behind them, Darcy suspected, a lot of anger and sorrow and disappointment. She was an impossible enigma and a daunting challenge, and Darcy did not know what worried him more; that he may be unequal to the challenge or that he cared to face it at all.

Chapter 3

Posted on: 2013-06-26

The Hamra Hotel, Baghdad - January 15, 2007

From: Dylan Cooper [DCooper123@hotmail.com]
Date: January 15, 2007 10:20 AM
To: Jane Bennet [jbennet16@yahoo.com]
Subject: Hi

Hi Jane,

You don't know me, but hopefully you've heard of me by now! I have heard so much about you that I already think of you as a sister. As you know, Liz and I are headed back stateside in a month. And I could really use your help. It's a secret (please do NOT say anything to Liz) but I want to marry her. I want to propose to her when we get back.

But I was wondering if you could help me out with a few things? Like what kind of ring would she like? Or is she totally against rings? I have a million other questions I want to pepper you with, but let's just start with that, if that's ok? You can totally just say no, too. I thought I'd get your advice, though, as you're her best friend. But NO pressure at all.

Anyway, I'm really looking forward to finally meeting you.

Take care,
Dylan

"What are you up to?"

Dylan closed his browser quickly. "Nothing, just catching up on some emails."

Elizabeth sat down next to him. "So looks like the surge is for real, huh?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Almost makes you want to stay..."

"Yeah, a little."

"I kind of feel like we're leaving at intermission. Is that bad?"

"Are you changing your mind? You want to stay?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "Nah, I think I'm ready to go. We can always come back, if we want. I could use a little break, just to clear my mind. I have so much material, I could write a book."

"You should."

"Maybe, I will." Elizabeth sighed. "You ever think about what it would be like to have a normal life?"

"All the time."

"And?"

"I don't know. I think it could be cool to have a nice house with a yard on a quiet street somewhere. A regular job. Maybe a couple of kids." He smiled at her. "We could have more than a couple, if you wanted."

"Oh, I see, so you're including me in this fantasy?"

"Well, a guy must have his dreams."

"What if I don't want the house, the yard, the kids. Then what?"

"Then we won't have them. We can choose whatever path we want, Liz. As long as you're there with me, I don't really care. You can make all the decisions for us."

"I knew I loved you for a reason."

"What about you? What do you see in your future?"

"I don't know. Honestly, I really don't. I don't know if I can do this forever. And if I don't do this, then I don't know what else I would do."

"You put too much pressure on yourself. Why do you always need to decide forever? Let's take it one step at a time, ok?"

"Ok."

"So what's step number one?"

"Well, when we get back home, you'll have to meet my family."

"I know, I'm excited."

"It's a test."

"Really?"

"If you can survive that, then I'll know you're for real."

"Darling, I've been living in war zones for the better part of 15 years. You really think I can't survive a weekend with the Bennets?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Well, you haven't met my mom yet."

New York - February 4, 2007

Jane sipped her coffee as she shopped for engagement rings. She knew she was enjoying the process a little too much, especially considering Elizabeth's well telegraphed reluctance to be exploited by the 'wedding complex.' But Jane was convinced that the right ring coupled with Dylan's obvious charms would assuage Elizabeth's doubts and fears. It had been extremely challenging to keep this affair a secret, but Jane took her responsibilities seriously. She had been corresponding with Dylan frequently over the past few weeks, offering up suggestions and thoughts, mostly solicited and sometimes unsolicited. She heartily approved of her sister's choice, for he seemed like the perfect match for her and clearly made her very happy. Elizabeth was prone to bouts of dejection when the world let her down as it inevitably did, and Jane hoped that Dylan would help her see life in a more optimistic light. Jane sent Dylan a few more links and then glanced through the newspaper.

At Least 130 Die as Blast Levels Baghdad Market*
February 4, 2007

A mammoth truck bomb obliterated a popular central Baghdad market on Saturday, ripping through scores of shops and flattening apartment buildings, killing at least 130 people and wounding more than 300 in the worst of a series of horrific attacks against Shiites in recent weeks.

The attack was the work of a suicide bomber who detonated about one ton of explosives in the bustling Sadriya market, in a largely Shiite enclave at 5 p.m., as shoppers finished buying food for dinner and men sipped coffee at cafes nearby, the police said. It was the deadliest single bomb blast since the United States invasion almost four years ago.

Among those dead is an American, Dylan Cooper, a photographer for Reuters ...

Jane almost fell off her couch. She dropped her New York Times and ran to the phone.

* Title and first two paragraphs are excerpts from a real New York Times article by Richard A. Oppel Jr. and Qais Mizher.

"You're being ridiculous, Liz. You've finally lost your mind."

"Really? So you're telling me she wasn't trying to take you back to her room?"

"No, she obviously was. But I wasn't about to go. Why are we still talking about this?"

"Because you neglected to tell me that you used to date her."

"That was like ten years ago. God, woman, get a grip."

"I don't like it when you take that tone with me, Dylan."

"Ok, I'm just going to stop talking while I'm ahead."

"What makes you think you're ahead?"

"You're impossible."

"So everyone likes to tell me."

"Ever considered that maybe it's true?"

"It probably is. But you choose to hang out with me. What does that say about you?"

Dylan smiled. "Nothing good, I'm sure."

"Whatever. You couldn't do better than me."

"Obviously not. Liz, I love you. Can you stop trying to pick a fight with me and enjoy this beautiful day? We don't have many left here."

Elizabeth relented and grabbed his hand. He smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze. They walked to the market, and he went to find food, while she walked to the cafe to grab them some coffee. He was hard to miss with his blue eyes and confident stride, and the locals really loved him. Elizabeth was jealous of his disarming smile and endearing manners, which effortlessly recommended him to strangers. That was a great quality to have as a journalist for it allowed people to trust you, to open up to you, to tell you their hopes and dreams and deepest fears. Elizabeth paid for the coffee and with a shukran was about to walk out when she was blinded by a searing white light and deafened by a loud bang.

Elizabeth sat up, her heart racing and her forehead dripping with sweat. Am I a man dreaming I am a butterfly or am I a butterfly dreaming I am a man? It was always some version of the same sequence of events. She would always dream of their last day together in the market before the blast. The exact conversation was always different, sometimes a version of a real fight they had had and oftentimes, a completely fabricated disagreement. She closed her eyes, hoping she could see him clearly again. He had been so real; his eyes, his smile, his voice. But no vision came before her, and she got up in anger and frustration. She walked to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. It upset her that her last memories of him involved a fight. They had fought so little, and yet, on that day, they had been arguing about something inconsequential. And now, for all eternity, it seemed she was destined to recall all their fights, real or imagined. Was it any wonder she could not sleep anymore?

"Can't sleep?"

Elizabeth looked up to see Jane. "Sorry if I woke you."

"No, I was just going to the bathroom when I saw the light was on. You ok?"

"Yeah."

Jane searched her sister's face. "Have you been dreaming again?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"I'm sorry, Liz. When did it start?"

"A month or so maybe? I don't know why, but they are more and more vivid now."

"I'm sorry. That's terrible."

"Yeah. Well, I went to see Dr. Matthews."

"You did? Was she helpful?"

"I guess. I don't know. She won't give me any meds yet. Wants to see if talking will help."

"Did it?"

"I don't know. We'll see. Maybe it's for the best. I was never one for too much medication, anyway."

"Well, give it a shot. Can't hurt, right?"

"Right. In a weird way, I don't mind the dreams. I feel like I'm beginning to forget him sometimes."

Jane looked at her sister, but said nothing.

"Dr. Matthews asked me a question that got me thinking about something I haven't really considered in a while. I wonder if we would have gotten married. I wonder if I would have been any good at it." Elizabeth paused. "It's stupid. We don't even know if he really wanted that. This is why I hate seeing her. She makes me think about things that are better left alone."

Jane maintained her uncomfortable silence for another moment, then said. "I'm glad you're seeing her again. I think she can help."

"Maybe."

"By the way, I forgot to ask you before we went to bed. Caroline and Charles have this cabin in Vermont. We were thinking it would be fun if we all went up there to ski next weekend. I'd really like it if you came."

"Sure, sounds like fun. Ok, why don't we both try to get some sleep?"

"Good night, Liz."

"Good night, Jane."

"Talk about a captive audience. I'd like to see Will ignore me this weekend," declared Caroline.

"That sounds like a threat," Elizabeth said.

"Well, maybe it is. He has to at least give me a shot, don't you think?"

"Why do you even like him that much? The guy's nothing special," said Elizabeth. "No offense, Charles."

"None taken," said Charles with a laugh from the driver's seat. "I'm going to sit this debate out."

"Good call," Jane said with a smile.

"You wouldn't understand, Liz," said Caroline.

"Probably not," said Elizabeth with a shrug. "Personally, I think you can do better."

"You think so?" Caroline smiled brightly. "Aww that's so sweet of you to say."

"Ok, ok, you don't have to make a thing of it. Man, this is why I'm never so nice to people," said Elizabeth as Caroline reached over to hug her.

"You're not as tough as you like to pretend to be," said Caroline.

Elizabeth just grunted in response. They were still almost an hour away from their destination, and with the sun long gone, the darkness ruled completely. Since very few lights graced the highways this far north, the car's headlight was their only saving grace. The snow was fresh, the air cold and the traffic light. Elizabeth was looking forward to the weekend away from the city. A little change of scenery could probably only help even if the company was decidedly of mixed quality. They had hit some traffic getting out of the city, but it had been relatively quiet for remainder of the journey. Elizabeth saw Charles reaching out to grab Jane's hand, and she smiled to herself. Their affection was obvious and their happiness infectious, even to a relatively cynical observer as Elizabeth. Jane had a tendency to fall in love quickly, and oftentimes the object of her affections was most undeserving. But as much as Elizabeth tried to maintain a critical eye, she could find no fault with Charles. His temperament, his manners, his sense of humor all complemented Jane perfectly, and Elizabeth was satisfied by his reciprocity of her sister's attentions. They were a little too saccharine for her taste, but Elizabeth would not begrudge her sister this happiness when she had supported her through so much darkness over the past six years.

"Do you guys remember my friend Sonia?" asked Caroline.

"Yeah," said Jane.

"She's getting divorced."

"Already? Didn't she just get married a couple of years ago?"

"Yeah. I don't know the full story yet, but she just left me a message to ask if she could crash with me until she finds her own place. Isn't that sad?"

"Yeah. Really sad. They seemed so in love."

"Everyone seems in love when they get married," Elizabeth chimed in.

"Well, I thought this one would last," said Caroline. "Sonia seemed so happy."

"It's hard to know what goes on behind the scene, though," said Elizabeth. "Doesn't everyone just put on a brave face in front of their friends and family? We all spend so much time convincing everyone that our lives are perfect that we start believing it ourselves."

"Yeah, maybe," said Caroline. "I still want to believe that there's great love out there. Someone who can sweep me off my feet. And we'd live happily ever after."

"It'll happen for you, Caroline," said Jane.

"Not with Will, though," said Elizabeth.

Caroline sighed. "Maybe you're right. But I can't help trying. I'm not getting any younger."

"God, you sound like our mother," said Elizabeth with a shudder.

"It's true. And I want kids. I'm running out of time."

"So what you want is a sperm donor, not a husband," said Elizabeth.

"No. I want a husband who can be a father to my future children. Is that so wrong?"

"No, not at all," said Elizabeth. "I guess sometimes I just don't see the appeal."

"Easy for you to say. You don't seem to want or need anyone."

Elizabeth looked at Caroline. "It's not about needing or wanting love. I think our entire culture has conditioned us to believe in a fairy tale. Love isn't about getting swept off your feet. It's about finding someone who can be your partner, your intellectual equal. Someone who understands you and shares your values. Someone with whom you can tackle life's problems. Someone who can make you laugh."

"And you don't think most people in love have that?"

"Who knows? I think most people are just gambling, taking a chance. My friend Charlotte always says that happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. I think she's onto something. How many couples spend more time planning their wedding than discussing the more important aspects of life? Like how are they going to handle their aging parents? Or how do they envision raising kids? What about religion? Or money?"

"It's not romantic to talk about those things, Liz," said Caroline.

"Then I guess you'll be taking a chance."

"At least I'll take a chance. When do you ever take a chance? Have you ever even been in love?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath, then managed to say. "I have."

"Well, you probably weren't so rational then."

Elizabeth didn't respond immediately, so Caroline dropped the subject.

"So Caroline, how's your launch coming along?" asked Jane in an effort to change the topic.

"Great. I think. I don't know, I'm always so nervous at this stage. What if no one likes it? Or worse, no one buys it?"

"You know that won't happen."

"Well, we're meeting with the buyers soon, so we'll see."

"I never understand why women want to spend a $1,000 on handbags," said Elizabeth.

"Because they're beautiful," said Caroline with a laugh. "Come by my loft sometime, and I'll show you the fall collection I've been working on. You may even like something. We're going to be the next Michael Kors."

"Thanks, but I can't afford any of it anyway."

"You, my dear, should just marry rich," said Caroline.

"God, can you imagine me as a trophy wife?"

"No!" said Jane and Caroline in unison.

"Charles, I hope you knew what to expect when you signed up for this ride," said Elizabeth.

"You guys have exceeded all my expectations," said Charles with a smile.

"Wow, those must have been some low expectations."

"Not at all. Besides, I have Jane sitting next to me. How could I have anything but an amazing time?"

Caroline and Elizabeth realized they were both rolling their eyes at the same time and burst out laughing.

"So you guys need to protect me from Caroline."

"Darce, you're a grown man. You don't need our protection," said Anne.

"Don't worry. I'll distract Caroline," said Richard.

"Of course you will," muttered Anne.

"You're too harsh on her," said Richard.

"Do you think we can go any faster? We're only going like five times the legal limit," said Darcy.

"I should have just left you two at home to fend for yourselves," said Anne as she changed lanes to overtake a slower car.

"Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Where are we going?" Richard did his best Abe Simpson impression.

"I wish I could trade the two of you for Liz," said Anne with a sigh.

"Liz is coming?" asked Darcy.

"Of course she's coming," said Anne. "What's your deal with her anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"You act really strange around her. Even for you."

"I don't," Darcy protested.

"C'mon, you stare at her a lot and barely talk. And when you do, you're always getting into arguments."

"I believe that's called having a discussion."

"Well, maybe. But snap out of it. I'm not sure you're making the best impression."

"I hate to admit it, but I have to agree with Anne on this one," said Richard.

"Whatever," Darcy mumbled.

"Real mature," said Anne.

"So... is Liz always like this?" asked Darcy.

"Like what?" said Richard.

"I don't know... aggressively opinionated."

"Yep," said Anne. "You afraid of a woman with strong opinions, Darce?"

"No. She can just be a bit sanctimonious sometimes, no?"

"Sure," said Anne. "All these artistic types are, though. And trust me, she's a real artist with her work. Plus I cut her a lot of slack. She's been through a lot."

"You mean the war?" asked Darcy.

"Yes. While the rest of us were only paying half attention, she was there, in the middle of it. Did you know she was injured in a blast? That's when she came home."

"No," said Darcy, his chest tightening. "When was this? Was it serious?"

"2007," said Richard. "She doesn't really like to talk about it. It was pretty serious. She was in the hospital for a while."

"Oh," said Darcy.

"Are you interested in Liz?" asked Anne. "You're asking way too many questions about her."

"No," said Darcy, a little too quickly. "I was just curious."

"Well, I wanted to set the two of you up, but Caroline is so aggressive and Liz didn't seem too keen, so I've eased up. But if you're into it, just give me the word, and I'll work my magic."

"Anne, you have an atrocious track record and are probably the least subtle person I know. I think I'll pass."

"Fine. Your loss. She's a real catch," said Anne.

Darcy sighed to himself. I know.

Chapter 4

Posted on: 2013-07-10

A knock on the door stirred Elizabeth from her state of semi-consciousness. "Come in."

Charles' head appeared. "Sorry, Liz. Jane's not feeling well, and she's asking for you."

Elizabeth sat up immediately. "I'll be right there."

Anne was still fast asleep, so Elizabeth quietly put on a sweatshirt and went to Jane and Charles' room. Jane was buried under the comforter, but as Elizabeth approached her, she could see her sister was unwell. Her cheeks were pale, her nose red and her eyes bloodshot. She felt Jane's forehead and detected a temperature. She dispatched Charles to see if they kept a thermometer in the cabin. Elizabeth sat down next to Jane on the bed and squeezed her hand.

"I'm afraid you have a fever."

"I feel awful."

"When did it happen? You seemed ok in the car last night."

"I don't know. I woke up in the middle of the night and had trouble breathing. I went back to sleep, but when I woke up this morning, I felt a lot worse."

"I'm sorry, Jane."

"I'm sorry I had Charles wake you up. I don't know what I thought you could do. It just feels nice to have you here."

"Don't worry. I was already up," said Elizabeth. Charles returned with a thermometer, and the verdict was 103 degrees. "You're not going skiing."

Jane smiled weakly. "I figured as much."

"I'll stay with you," said Elizabeth.

"No, I'll be fine, Liz. You go, and have fun."

"I can stay here," said Charles.

"No, it's fine, Charles," said Elizabeth. "I'm not much of a skier anyway."

"You sure?" said Charles. "I would feel bad leaving you guys here."

"Don't be silly. We'll be fine. Right Jane?" Jane nodded in response, and Charles kissed her forehead. Jane closed her eyes, and she was fast asleep within minutes. Elizabeth and Charles closed the door as they left the room.

"You sure this is fine? It's not a problem for me to stay behind with you guys," said Charles.

"No, I think she'll be in bed mostly. No point in us both being here. I'll keep an eye on her and make sure she gets some fluids and something to eat later. You guys have soup here?"

Charles nodded. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Will do."

Jane was asleep again, so Elizabeth settled with her notebook in the living room, the fireplace roaring and the air filled with the sounds of The Flaming Lips. Do you realize - that happiness makes you cry / Do you realize - that everyone you know someday will die. The cabin was filled with the kind of warmth and joy that Elizabeth had not expected. She had envisioned a beautifully decorated, cold space that would make Caroline proud and the guests uncomfortable. Instead, she found something akin to a welcoming home that contained board games and books and worn-out carpets and cherished memories. The Bingleys had spent many a summer and winter day in this cabin, and the evidence of those happy times was present everywhere; pictures of the kids at the lake and the ski lift, drawings from baby Caroline, little league cards of a young Charles, first recital pictures of budding ballerina Louisa. There was a wall in the kitchen that contained markings from years of sibling height measurements, and Elizabeth observed that the measurements stopped once Charles overshot his sisters. The parents had passed away in a car accident some years ago, leaving the Bingley siblings with generous trust funds and a family business. Despite Elizabeth's general distrust of inherited wealth, she had to admit that this cabin was evidence that not all that is inherited had to be sterile tokens of privilege.

A commotion at the door signaled the return of the ski contingent. Elizabeth put away her notebook just as Caroline walked in the door. "Hi Liz!"

Anne followed behind her. "Is this what you've been doing all day? Sitting alone, listening to depressing music?"

Before Elizabeth could answer, Richard appeared. "Ignore Anne. She's just angry because Caroline and I are better skiers than she is. You know how competitive she can get."

Elizabeth laughed. "I know. How was it out there?"

"It was great," said Richard. "Wish you could have joined us. How's Jane?"

"She's ok, sleeping right now. She had a bit of soup and is taking Tylenol. The fever seems under control for now."

Charles came in just in time to hear the update on Jane. "I'll go check on her," he said as he disappeared up the stairs.

"Why don't I make you guys some tea while you get changed?" said Elizabeth.

"That would be awesome, thank you," said Caroline.

"Where's Will?" asked Elizabeth as she walked to the kitchen.

"Parking the car," said Anne. "He wouldn't let me drive back."

"You nearly ran over like five old ladies on the way there," observed Richard.

Elizabeth smiled as she filled the kettle with water, wisely choosing to remain on the sidelines in this argument. She heard the front door and rightly assumed that Darcy had arrived. She tilted her head to see him taking off his boots and said, "Everyone is upstairs changing. I'm making tea. Want some?"

"Sure." Darcy smiled at her. "Thanks."

Elizabeth observed that a smile and cheeks flush from exercise suited Darcy. "No problem."

She expected him to go upstairs to change, so was surprised when he walked to the kitchen and said, "You need a hand?"

"No, I got it."

"How's Jane doing?"

"Ok. She's resting."

"It was nice of you to stay here with her all day."

"She's my sister. I couldn't just leave her here alone."

"Not everyone would have made that choice."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Did you have a nice time skiing?"

Darcy nodded. "Obviously it's not as nice here as the slopes out west, but it was serviceable."

Elizabeth suppressed a laugh. "The east coast is honored that you find its slopes serviceable."

Darcy said nothing in response. He stared at her for a moment, then excused himself.

"So we're really going to cook dinner?" asked Caroline.

"I'm with Caroline," said Elizabeth. "Any of you jokers know what you're doing? With Jane out of commission, I'm not so sure about this."

"Relax," said Anne. "We got this."

"Who's we?" asked Caroline.

"The Fitzwilliam cousins," said Richard.

"Hold on," said Elizabeth. "I've seen you guys in action. I vote for ordering pizza."

"We have a secret weapon," said Anne.

"What?" said Elizabeth.

"Who," corrected Anne, glancing at Darcy.

"Will?" said Elizabeth in genuine shock.

Darcy, who was busily looking through the contents of the fridge, looked up and said, "Don't sound so surprised."

"You can cook?" said Caroline.

"Look, you've even shocked Caroline, and she thinks you're practically a god," said Anne.

Caroline shot Anne a look and then said, "I've never seen you cook before, Will."

"Well, I have a trick or two up my sleeve," said Darcy.

"Can we help?" asked Caroline.

"No, I think we're fine, right guys?" said Darcy with a nod to Anne and Richard.

"Yeah. Maybe you guys can be in charge of drinks," said Richard.

"I think we can handle that," said Elizabeth.

The Fitzwilliam cousins proceeded to overtake the kitchen under the excellent direction of William Darcy. The characteristics that made Darcy a successful executive were at full display. He delegated tasks according to ability and produced an agenda complete with a timeline. Within half an hour, the oven was baking a brie and cranberry bread bowl, the saucepan was boiling water for the pasta and the frying pan was cooking the base for the sauce. Elizabeth marveled at the effortless competency and good humor with which Darcy was commanding his kitchen and wondered whether he brought those same qualities to his boardroom. Charles had decided to sit with Jane, even though she was still sleeping, which most thought was sweet and Caroline thought was a good excuse to not help out with dinner. After ensuring that everyone had a glass of wine, Elizabeth and Caroline found that they could not make themselves useful any further and proceeded to sit on the carpet in front of the fireplace. Caroline caught Darcy glancing in their direction furtively, so she invited him to delegate to his sous chefs and join them for a few minutes. He declined, observing he could only imagine two motives for their choosing to sit together so far away from rest of the party, and in either case, he would be intruding.

"What does he mean?" asked Caroline. "Liz, want to hazard a guess?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure he intends to be harsh, so I think we're better off just ignoring him," said Elizabeth.

"Will, please explain yourself. What do you mean?" Caroline promptly asked.

Darcy smiled. "Well, you either have a lot of things to discuss that you don't want others to hear or you think that you look more appealing in the glow of the fireplace. If it's the first, I would obviously be in your way, and if it's the second, I can admire you better from a distance."

"That is ridiculous!" said Caroline, secretly pleased. "Liz, how should we punish him?"

"I don't know," said Elizabeth. "Tease him? Laugh at him? You've known him longer, Caroline, so you're probably a better judge."

"Oh you can't tease Will. Or laugh at him, really."

"Really? Can't laugh at him, huh? That's rare, and I hope it stays that way. I love a good laugh."

"Caroline is giving me too much credit," said Darcy. "Even the wisest and best of men - or should I say, the wisest and best of their actions - can be ridiculed by someone determined to make a joke out of life."

Elizabeth looked at him. "That's definitely true, but I hope I'm not one of those people. I hope I never laugh at what is wise and good. I love to laugh at nonsense and ridiculousness, but I guess those are the exact qualities you don't have."

"I don't know if that's entirely possible. But I've generally tried to avoid character flaws that might expose me to mockery and ridicule."

"Like vanity and pride?"

"Yeah, vanity is definitely a flaw. But pride... I'm not so sure? If you're truly superior, then should you have to apologize for being aware of it?"

Elizabeth smiled in response, and Caroline asked, "Ok you've analyzed Will enough, Liz. What's the verdict?"

"It's pretty clear that Will has no flaws," laughed Elizabeth.

"I never made that claim," said Darcy. "I'm only human and have plenty of faults. I can be stubborn and inflexible. I don't easily forgive and forget. I think many people probably think I'm resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost forever."

"Implacable resentment is definitely a flaw," said Elizabeth. "But you're safe from me, Will. I can't laugh at it."

"Everyone has a natural defect, Liz, that no amount of education can overcome."

"And your defect is a tendency to hate everyone."

"And yours," he said with a smile, "is to willfully misunderstand them."

"Anyone want more wine?" asked Caroline, bored of a conversation in which she had no part.

Darcy gladly returned his attention to the kitchen, and Anne and Richard just shared knowing glances.

The dream had come and gone, and Elizabeth found herself awake thinking a thousand thoughts all jumbled into a haze. Dinner had been a resounding success, and she had to admit that she was impressed not just by Darcy's technical expertise, but by his patience, his humor and his utter control. She would not have expected such self reliance from a man so clearly born and raised in privilege, but Elizabeth conceded that she hardly knew him, and perhaps, her preconceived notions of wealth contained some flawed logic. And yet, he hardly spoke throughout the meal itself and appeared to be lost in another, more interesting world. The dichotomy was jarring and hard to ignore, and in the end, Elizabeth knew he would always just be the proud scion of a powerful media empire, something she could barely tolerate, let alone respect. She closed her eyes in an effort to return to sleep, but found she could still feel the desert air blowing through her hair. With a sigh, she got up quietly and walked downstairs to the kitchen. As she opened the fridge, she noticed she was not alone.

"Will," she said softly.

"Hey," he said, looking up from his laptop.

"Those are some hipster glasses," she said as she walked into the living room.

"Yeah," he said. "My sister picked them out. I rarely wear my glasses, so I didn't bother getting another pair."

"They suit you," said Elizabeth.

"You think?" He adjusted his dark rimmed glasses self-consciously.

Elizabeth nodded. "So what are you doing up?"

"I had a call with Asia. You?"

"Couldn't sleep," she said as she sat down on the couch next to him. "You mind if I sit here for a few minutes? I won't disturb you, I promise."

"Not at all," he said as he put away his laptop. "In fact, I'm done for now."

"Oh? So what was the call about?"

"The movie business."

"Enlighten me."

"I was just talking to our Asian distributors about our launch schedule for the year. You know these days we make most of our money overseas. You have to think globally; can't afford not to."

"You mean you think globally when it suits your interests," she said, unable to resist.

"Is that bad?"

"No. But what about when there's no obvious profit motive?"

"What do you mean?"

"Businesses and economies have global implications, and yet, news is so localized, especially in this country. How much real news, especially international, does an average citizen get exposed to? All the good publications that still do real news are slowly going away. How will we stay informed in a decade? How do you have a global perspective when you don't even know what's going on?"

"I don't know if the situation is so dire. Some people will make it in the digital world."

"Maybe The Times and a handful of others. Is that enough?"

"I guess we'll find out."

"And where are TV and cable in all of this? How do we have 24/7 so-called news shows and yet such little content that makes any sense?"

"Like I've explained to you before, Liz, it's about supply and demand. If there's demand for specific content, some entrepreneur will figure out how to get that content to the intended audience."

"Maybe." She paused. "What do you think is your responsibility in all of this?"

"I have fiduciary duties to my shareholders."

"And that's it?"

"What else do you want from me?" he asked with some irritation.

"Nothing." She returned his tone.

"You don't mean that. Why don't you just say what's on your mind?"

"You sure you want to know what I think?"

Darcy nodded in response. "I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

She shrugged. "Well, you're not going to like it. Consider yourself warned." She paused. "You're one of the most powerful men on this planet. You control an insane amount of content in pretty much every format. You could do so much with that. Don't you think you lack some vision?"

"You want me to subsidize print journalism forever, is that it?"

"I don't know what the answer is."

"Exactly. Much easier to criticize from the sidelines, isn't it?"

"This is my passion. I put my life on the line and have the scars to prove it. I hardly call that the sidelines."

"Well, good for you. I guess that makes you an expert on the media business."

"No, I am never going to understand business. I just see the stories that never get told."

"No one wants to hear those stories, have you ever thought of that?" He paused. "Do you always have to look at the world this way?"

"And what way is that?"

"So negative. The internet changed everything. A lot of the change is scary, as change always is. But it's not all bad."

"No?"

"Think about how much more democratic content is today. You can be a 29-year old budget wonk who gets to blog for the Post. That could not have happened 20 years ago. Think of that every time you're frustrated by the media world. We still need to figure out how to monetize online content. I'm sure one day we'll get it right."

"You sure about that?"

Darcy nodded. "We've had our ups and downs, but by and large, human beings have figured things out eventually. Technology is disruptive, but powerful. Do you know there are 48 million people who have a mobile phone, but no electricity? I find that amazing. It's easy to get lost in all that's wrong, but do you ever pause to think that here, today, we're a freer, more equal, more tolerant society than in any time in human history?"

"Tell that to a child in Syria or Mali or Congo. Or inner city Chicago, for that matter."

"I'm not saying the world is perfect. I'm just saying that eventually, we stumble on the right answer after we've tried everything else. To loosely paraphrase Mr. Churchill. And I firmly believe the world will be a better place in 50 years than it is today. The trend is hard to ignore."

"I guess that makes you an optimist."

"Maybe," he said with a smile, "but in front of you, I think everyone is an optimist."

"And that somehow absolves you of all responsibility?" she said as she stood up, leaving the question hanging, unanswered. "I'm sorry I disturbed you. I'm going to head back up. Good night."

"Good night," he mumbled, surprised to find himself more intrigued than irritated by Elizabeth and her scars.

The next morning found Jane feeling better, so Charles stayed behind with Elizabeth while rest of the party took advantage of another day of skiing. Jane even sat in the living room for a little while, but Charles insisted she return to the bedroom to rest after a couple of hours. Charles sat with Jane the entire afternoon, talking, laughing, watching TV with the kind of comfortable companionship that made Elizabeth smile. Maybe they would fulfill her mother's dreams after all. All the poor woman wanted in life was to see her daughters married, and so far, not one of the five had obliged. Jane had been unlucky in love more than once, which really baffled Elizabeth for she couldn't imagine how anyone could ever voluntarily leave someone so kind, generous and beautiful in every sense of the word. Mary was in the final year of her Ph.D. in comparative religion and seemed utterly uninterested in the idea of marriage. The youngest two, Kate and Lydia, had been ready for marriage since they were 15, it seemed, but thankfully, no nuptials had resulted from their numerous ill-advised so-called relationships. As for Elizabeth, the notion of marriage scared her, and the idea of love intrigued her, and she wasn't sure to what extent she believed in either.

When the ski party returned in the afternoon, Darcy excused himself, citing urgent business, if avoiding Elizabeth Bennet could be considered that. He realized his excessive attention to her could be misconstrued, as it often had before, and he did not wish to raise expectations that would only end in disappointment. He only joined rest of the party briefly for a pizza dinner that night, but otherwise did not emerge until it was time to return to New York the following day. Charles spent the evening with his darling Jane, leaving the remaining foursome to their own devices. After dinner, they played cards for a while and then unwound in front of the fireplace with a bottle of wine.

"I think I'm going to take that job with the Times," said Elizabeth, following a lull in the conversation.

"Oh yeah? The international desk, right?" asked Anne.

"Yeah," nodded Elizabeth. "Still need to iron out the details, but they just had a bunch of turnover, so need someone with Middle East expertise. And I guess my language skills help."

"That's great," said Anne.

"Yeah, thanks," said Elizabeth.

"You don't sound so happy about it," said Richard.

"No, I am," said Elizabeth. "I'll be working with the guys on the ground and coordinating the stories from here. It should be a good experience...- and a steady paycheck can't hurt. I've been mooching off Jane and my folks for too long."

"But you wish you were on the ground?" asked Richard.

"Maybe. I don't know. It's complicated," sighed Elizabeth.

"You could talk to Will about it," offered Caroline. "Maybe he'll have a perspective that's helpful?"

"Thanks, but no thanks," said Elizabeth. "I don't need advice from Will."

"Yeah, Caroline," said Anne. "We're not talking about Darce or fashion tonight, so you may get bored."

Caroline looked at her for a moment, bit her lip, then said, "You know what, I've had it with you and your comments. I try to be nice because you're Liz's friend, but that doesn't give you the right to be so awful to me. I know what you think of me. I know what you all think of me." She stood up abruptly. "I think I'm going to head to bed." And with that, she was gone.

Elizabeth and Richard turned to look at an ashen faced Anne, who just said, "Can't she take a joke?"

Richard stood up. "I'm going to deal with you later." He followed Caroline upstairs.

"What?" said Anne as she saw Elizabeth continue to glare at her.

"You didn't have to do that."

"She hasn't been annoying you with all that yapping about Darce?"

"A little. But I'm an adult. I try to control myself when I'm annoyed."

"Yeah, you do a great job of it." Anne rolled her eyes.

"What does that mean?"

"Liz, you've been picking fights with Darce ever since he showed up in New York."

"I think it's called having a discussion."

"Funny, that's exactly what he said."

"Why were you talking about me?"

Anne shrugged. "No reason."

"Aren't we getting off topic here?" said Elizabeth. "You're cruel to Caroline. And it has to stop. She may be self involved and annoying at times, but she has a good heart. I'm sure you'll hear more from Richard, but if you don't stop, you're going to answer to me. Ok?"

Anne nodded sheepishly. "Yes, ok. Sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," said Elizabeth. "Apologize to Caroline."