“Some of the time? Oh, great. Great.”
She crossed her arms. “Jeez, I’m not a three-year-old.”
“Daytona Beach is totally nuts during spring break. It’s not safe.”
“I’ll have my phone and pepper spray with me the whole time,” she insisted. “Besides, that’s why Vivi’s parents told her to bring a friend—so we can look out for each other.”
“That would be a hell of a lot more comforting if I didn’t know your track record.”
“Mom already said I could go.”
“What?”
“Look, I already talked to Mom, and I promised to be super-responsible and extra-careful. Video chats every night, updates every time we go someplace new—she’ll always know where we are. We have to touch base with Vivi’s aunt at least once a day, and I swore not to leave Vivi’s side the entire time,” Lucia said. “I only didn’t tell you because I knew you’d be like this.”
“Because, apparently, I’m the one with all the common sense in this family.”
Without another word to her sister, Elisa got up from her bed and stormed into the kitchen, where Alejandra was working on dinner.
“Mom.”
“Yes, dear?” she asked, not looking up from what she was doing.
“Did you seriously tell Lucia she could go to Daytona Beach?”
She sighed. “I was wondering when you’d flip out about this. Yes, I did. And don’t try to change my mind—Julieta already did.”
“Mom, you know how Lulu is. She could get hurt.”
“You can get hurt doing most anything,” she said. “Hand me the pickled jalapeños.”
Elisa grabbed the jar out of the fridge, handing it to her mother as she said, “Lucia’s not mature or responsible enough for this. I wouldn’t trust her to go to Cleveland alone, let alone Daytona Beach.”
“I used to go on vacation with friends all the time when I was a girl,” she said with a nostalgic smile. “Remember the stories?”
“Yes, Mom. Those stories were usually prefaced with, ‘If you ever do this, I’ll beat your ass.’”
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic? It’s not as if I’m letting them run off completely by themselves—I’m not an idiot.”
“Have you ever even met Vivian’s aunt?”
Her mother deflated, admitting, “Well, no. But I have met her parents, and I trust them. So long as they see her aunt at least once a day, and she sees them to their room every night, I don’t see the harm in letting them stay in a hotel. Especially not if Vivi’s parents are paying.”
“Oh yeah, Lulu with unsupervised access to a building full of young, male tourists, a hot tub, and unlimited room service. That can only end well.”
Mom glared at her. “You watch your mouth. Your sister should get to have a bit of fun, and I’ve made it very clear that if she betrays my trust on this trip, there will never be another.”
“There shouldn’t be a first.”
“Elisa, I’m her mother. Not you.”
Mom went back to cooking, effectively ending the conversation.
She couldn’t believe her mother was being so incredibly stupid. Exasperated, Elisa left the kitchen and stepped outside the apartment, fishing her phone out of her pocket. Leaning against the wall in the hallway, she dialed her father’s number.
“Hello?”
“Papa, it’s Elisa—I need your help.”
“Is something wrong?” Miguel asked.
“Not yet. Look, it’s kind of a long story, but the short and short of it is that Lucia’s going to Daytona Beach with her friend over spring break, and her friend’s parents aren’t going with them. I mean, her friend’s aunt will be there, but they’re not staying with her, they’ll be in a hotel on their own, and…and I don’t know, I just have a bad feeling about this.”
Miguel paused. “Does your mother know about this?”
“Yeah. I tried to talk to her, but she’s fine with it. I thought maybe if you talked to her—”
“Lisa, you know your mom.” He sighed. “How do you think she’d take it if her ex-husband called to talk her out of something he wasn’t even supposed to know about—but did, thanks to one of her daughters asking him to interfere on an issue she’d already decided?”
“I know, I know, but…I’ll tell her it was all my idea. I’ll make sure she yells at me and not you. Just—just stop this.”
“What makes you think I can?”
“You’re Lucia’s father. If Mom won’t listen to me, maybe she’ll listen to you.”
“I agree with you completely. I think this is a terrible idea. But both Lucia and your mother are incredibly stubborn. And even if I managed to persuade Alex not to let her go, we’d never hear the end of it. You know how long Lulu can hold a grudge.”
Elisa was appalled. “So you won’t even try?”
“I don’t see how I could do any good.”
She groaned. “Forget it.”
“I’m sorry, Elisa.”
She massaged her forehead. “I’m—I’m being dumb, right? It’ll be fine.” Even as she said it, she didn’t believe it. Lucia going to Daytona Beach with limited supervision was more than a terrible idea. It was a ridiculous, awful, potentially lethal, piece-of-shit idea.
“I’m sure it will be,” Miguel said, sounding as unconvinced as she felt. “Try not to worry too much about it. Your sister’s getting older—she’s not a baby anymore.”
“I… I know. I guess I’m just… I love Lulu too much to not worry about her, you know?”
“I get it. But you’ll have to stop fussing over her sometime,” he said gently. “Try to just relax and enjoy your own spring break. You’re going to that museum, right?”
“Yeah,” Elisa said. “I’m, uh, I’m going to Pemberley with my art class.”
“I went to Pemberley once, back when I still lived in Columbus. You’ll love it.”
Elisa smiled a bit, despite the situation. “I’ll send you a postcard from the gift shop. We can see what gets back to Steventon first—it or me.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Look, Elisa, I better go—I’m meeting a friend for dinner. He says if I’m late, he’ll make me pick up the tab.”
“Okay. Love you, Papa.”
“I love you, too.”
Elisa hung up, but remained out in the hallway for a while longer, trying to tell herself that her father was right. She couldn’t baby Lucia forever. Maybe Lucia would prove her wrong. Maybe everything would be fine.
She didn’t actually believe it, of course. But she had to keep telling herself that. The only alternative was to worry.
Chapter Twenty-Three
In Which Elisa Arrives at Pemberley
The Alexandra Pemberley Museum of Classical Art was beautiful, and well worth the two-hour drive. The tour guide told them that the architecture was inspired by the old Baroque style, and the place was elegant, sophisticated, and massive. Steventon had an art gallery, but it was small—local artists and the occasional traveling exhibit, if they got especially lucky. One could easily get through the entire museum in an hour or so. But Pemberley? You could get lost in Pemberley. According to the tour guide, he actually had.
“Now, you will all receive a tour of one exhibit every morning,” he said, walking backward as he led them through a hall full of sculptures by local artists, somehow avoiding bumping into anything. “You are, of course, free to visit the rest of the museum on your own time if you wish. Now, we can get anywhere from a handful to a couple thousand visitors each day—attendance spikes when we open a new exhibit, as well as on Sundays and holidays, when admission is free. We’ve been very fortunate to have some extremely generous donors and volunteers that allow us to keep the museum accessible for everyone.”
He kept talking while Elisa and her classmates wandered the room, gazing at each sculpture. They were all beautiful—her favorite was one made of blown glass in the center of the room, which resembled an odd, colorful bouquet. She was
reading the plaque about the artist when she heard the door to the museum open and the lady at the desk greet the newest guest. This wouldn’t have caught her attention at all if she hadn’t picked up the familiar names.
“I didn’t know you’d be coming today, Miss Fitzgerald—oh, and you brought Mr. Charles with you. Always a pleasure.”
No. Way.
Elisa spun around so quickly it drew the attention of her classmates, looking back toward the entrance.
She spoke before she could think.
“Darcy?”
Darcy looked like she’d been struck by lightning when she saw Elisa. Bobby froze behind her, eyes wide. They stood there in the doorway staring at Elisa while she stood there in the gallery, staring right back. Together, the three of them must have looked like the world’s most surprised wax figures.
Now the rest of the class was watching them, but Elisa was too shocked to care.
The tour guide didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss and, in fact, approached Darcy with a broad, genuine smile.
“Darcy,” he said. Elisa couldn’t help but gawk; the whole situation was just way too weird. “I didn’t realize you had a friend in this tour group. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know,” she said faintly.
The tour guide turned to the class. “This is Darcy Fitzgerald,” he explained. She waved awkwardly. “Alexandra Pemberley was her great-great-grandmother.”
Of course she was.
“Her mother used to be the director here,” the tour guide continued. “The family’s been heavily involved in the museum’s operation since its opening.”
“Wait—wait, Darcy, is he saying you…you run this place now?” she said, blindsided.
Darcy found her voice. “No, no. I, uh, I’m too young for that, and I’m quite sure I have no talent for it. A family friend is the director now. I’m only involved because my ancestor’s name is on the building.”
The tour guide smiled. “Darcy’s too modest,” he said. “She’s on the board of trustees.”
Darcy looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. “Again—just because of my family. It’s practically a figurehead position in my case.”
“You know more than you let on,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “I mean, you practically grew up here. I’ve known you since you were small enough to fit inside a backpack.”
“Thomas, please—you’re making me blush.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll let you go.” He chuckled, watching Darcy hustle away, Bobby close behind.
As she reached the end of the room, Darcy glanced over her shoulder at Elisa, hesitating just for a moment, brown eyes flickering with an emotion Elisa couldn’t name, and then left.
“How do you know Darcy?” the tour guide asked her. The rest of the class had turned their attention away from Elisa and back to the sculptures—thank goodness.
“I—uh—we had a class together last semester,” she said, not wanting to get into the full truth of the matter with a complete stranger.
“Oh, when Darcy was staying up in Steventon, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m glad she’s made some friends,” he said. “We all love her, but she’s not always the most sociable with people her age.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Oh, the rest of us who work here at Pemberley. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said she grew up here. Her mom used to bring her and her sister with her at least once a week. I remember board meetings where Darcy would sit in the corner with her books waiting for her mom to finish up. Now she’s on the board herself, and she always tries to contribute as much as she can. She’s always been such a nice girl.”
“Uh…yeah.”
Even though she didn’t wish Darcy was dead anymore, she was still stunned to hear someone willingly describe her as “nice.” Though now that she thought about it, maybe it made a little sense. As rude as she could be toward her peers, Elisa had never once seen Darcy talk down to any of the servants at Netherfield, or even so much as snap at a waiter. Maybe Darcy simply thought to put forth more of an effort with people working for or with her.
The tour moved on, the guide pointing out where the gift shop, the café, and the restrooms were, but all Elisa could think about was Darcy.
She had known Darcy lived in Columbus, but she’d figured—it was a big city; what were the odds of bumping into her? But she didn’t just live in the general area. Her family had founded the very museum Elisa was here to see, and apparently, she was around a lot. And Bobby was with her, too. She wondered when he’d come back from Cape Cod—after the whole vanishing-act fiasco, she’d unfriended and unfollowed him on all social media, not trusting herself to not write, “What the hell is wrong with you?” on his wall where everyone could see it.
So much for a relaxing spring break.
…
Before the class headed back to the hotel for supper, Elisa ducked into the gift shop to find a postcard to send to her father. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised when she saw Darcy in there, too.
At this point, she could probably crash land on a desert island and Darcy would have a summer home there.
“Darcy,” she said quietly. “Hey.”
She seized up, and her voice came out quiet and awkward. “Hey,” she said. “I’m…uh… You look lovely.”
Dressed in an old “Go Bucks” T-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, with her ugliest, most comfortable boots, Elisa certainly didn’t feel lovely. But somehow, she could tell that Darcy meant it, and that made her smile, even if only a little.
“Thank you,” she said. “You do, too.” Darcy pretty much always looked great. Back before the letter, she had found that to be one of the most obnoxious things about her.
“I—I didn’t—I didn’t realize you were going to be here,” she stuttered. “I hope I’m not making things awkward or unpleasant, or…”
Elisa shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m visiting with my art history class.”
“Are you—are you here for the entirety of your break?”
She nodded. “We’re seeing one exhibit per day. Won’t cover the entire museum, but…”
“That’s a shame. The entire museum is beautiful. I couldn’t pick just a handful of places to show you.”
“Too bad you’re not our tour guide, huh? Hey, maybe that’s a job for you here,” she said, laughing, trying to sound casual.
“If you…” She cleared her throat. “If you want to see anything that’s not on your schedule, let me know. I know this place like the back of my hand. I’d be happy to…to… Um, but, no pressure. If you don’t want to, that’s—”
“No. No, I’d… I’d like that,” she said, and she was surprised to find that she really meant it. “I never knew your family was into this stuff. Art, I mean.”
“My mother lived for this museum.” Darcy chuckled. “She adored my father, but I think Pemberley was her true love.”
“That’s sweet, in a way,” she said. “Passion like that for your work is…is hard to find.”
Darcy nodded. “That’s what I think, too.” She paused, before adding, “Gianna would probably be thrilled to see you, by the way. She thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread.”
Elisa blushed. “Wish my actual sisters thought of me that way.”
“Would you like to come over for lunch sometime while you’re here?”
“Sure. That’d be… That’d be really nice. I’d love to see Gianna.”
“How does tomorrow work?”
“Tomorrow works great.”
Darcy’s face broke out into a smile. A radiant, relieved grin. She’d never actually seen Darcy smile before.
It hit her that she’d do almost anything to keep that smile there, now that she’d seen it.
“What time will you be free tomorrow?” Darcy asked.
“The school stuff is set to end around twelve thirty.”
“How about we meet back
here after that, then?”
“It’s a date,” she said.
Before Darcy could reply, Bobby emerged from the bathroom, approaching them.
“Hey, are you ready to— Elisa?” Bobby said, suddenly noticing her. He still looked surprised to see her here. Maybe he was just surprised to find Elisa and Darcy having a civil conversation. To be fair, it surprised me, too.
“Hey, Bobby.” Her words came out clipped, almost cold. She had moved past the stage of homicidal fury, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still irritated with him for what he did to Julieta. Darcy may have intervened, but he didn’t have to listen.
“How have you been? It’s been a while.”
“Yeah. It has. I’m… I’m good. Been better, but I’m good.”
“How’s… How’s Julieta?” The way Bobby said Julieta’s name, Elisa knew that had been all he’d been wanting to ask from the moment he saw her.
“She’s fine.”
“I… I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us—between me and Julieta, I mean. I’ve wanted to call her, but the way things ended… I figured she wouldn’t want to hear from me. But, um, how’s her job going? Does she—does she have a boyfriend now, or—”
Elisa cut him off. She didn’t want to hear this.
“Bobby, if you want to know how Julieta’s been doing, you should talk to her. Given your track record, you could use the practice.”
He promptly shut up, averting his gaze. There was an awkward pause before Darcy cleared her throat again, saying, “S-so, um… Bobby and I were just about to head home. I’ll—I’ll meet you here tomorrow at twelve thirty, right, Elisa?”
She nodded. “Right.”
“See you tomorrow, then.”
They turned to go, leaving Elisa alone in the gift shop. She wasn’t sure what to make of the last few minutes. Not only did she have a conversation with Darcy that didn’t leave her wanting to kill something, but she’d agreed not just to have a meal, but also tour Pemberley with her. And she was actually looking forward to it.
I’m just glad to be making nice. Nothing more to it.
Yeah, a second voice in her head said. You keep telling yourself that…
Most Ardently Page 24