Adapt

by Melanie Rachel

  “It feels pretty good to me, too,” she replied quietly. She took his arm and steered him back towards where they’d parked the car. “Now, you need to give me the grand tour of your amazing house outside the bedroom, and we need to eat something. I’m starving.”

  Will slung an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to him. “You’re always hungry,” he groused affectionately. “I’ve never dated a woman with such an appetite. I have no idea where you put it all.”

  Elizabeth clucked at him. “I work all the calories off, Mr. Darcy. I believe you’ve played a significant role in those endeavors recently.”

  “Well then,” Will replied, straight faced, “let’s get you some food.”

  Chapter Four

  “I know we have to go back to New York for the holiday,” Elizabeth said as she strolled the hallway of the beach house with Will, “but I want you to know that this has been amazing.”

  The interior of the house was designed to appear like a rustic cabin, with hardwood floors and rounded beams in the ceilings. There were thick area rugs placed in front of two large stone fireplaces with long wooden mantles. The decoration and finishes brought the vast scale of the rooms into proportion and created a kind of coziness. Even the colors were warm and inviting. The kitchen, the most contemporary room in the house with its quartz counters and stainless-steel cooktop, made ample use of blue and green sea glass in the backsplash and northern red oak for the hand-hewn floors.

  Elizabeth was fascinated by the art that adorned the walls, much of it by local artists and in every conceivable media—watercolor, oil paints, multimedia, paper, sculptures in stone and bronze. She was continually drawn back to a large charcoal rendering of the house from the vantage point of the water. The house in the drawing was missing the southern wing which, Mrs. Reynolds had informed her, had been added a decade after the artist’s depiction. Otherwise, the house and the yard down to the shoreline were unchanged. She felt the permanence of the place in the dark, assured strokes.

  “There’s a completed version of this in my parents’ room,” Will said quietly as he reached up to touch the frame. “It used to hang here, but I think it was my mother’s favorite.”

  As they reached the landing, Will trailed one hand along the polished wooden bannister as they began the descent towards the dining room.

  “I’ve loved all of our time together these past two weeks, Will,” Elizabeth told him, almost shyly. “Thank you.”

  “Elizabeth,” he said slowly, “this doesn’t have to end. Thanksgiving is in two days. You could just stay. We could move you in over the holiday, before FORGE officially reopens.”

  She glanced up at him and patted the bannister on the other side of the wide steps. “Did you and Richard ever slide down these?”

  He nodded. “The wax made them especially fast. We broke a really expensive vase once, and that was the end of that.” He reached out to offer her his hand. “Please don’t give it a try. I have no idea how far you’d fly before you landed.”

  She laughed a little. “Am I that obvious?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.

  “Yes.” He frowned. “So you’re determined to move back to your apartment?”

  Elizabeth took his hand. “Will,” she said gently, “the paparazzi have all but disappeared, and you’re going back to work. There’s not a reason to stay.” She held up her hand as he began to protest. “I know it already feels as though we’ve been together forever, but it hasn’t really been that long.” She leaned back into his chest, and his arms automatically closed around her torso.

  “I’ve known you almost three months, and we’ve spent a lot of that time together,” he insisted.

  Elizabeth turned to offer him a quick embrace. Then she reached up to place a hand on his cheek. “I’m not saying it won’t ever happen.” She waited until he met her gaze. “Truthfully, it might not even be that long in the grand scheme of things, but . . .” She pulled away so that she could look him in the eye. “It’s too fast for me. Let’s give this another three months and see where we are then. You’re going to be busy with family over the holidays, and so am I. Besides, I think your sister might need some time to get used to the idea. She might be a little disconcerted to come home and find a squatter.”

  “You wouldn’t be a squatter, and she wouldn’t mind,” Will tried to reassure her. “She’s going to love you.”

  “Mmm,” Elizabeth hummed. “The apartment is hers, too, isn’t it?”

  He touched her hair tenderly. “It is,” Will replied with a nod.

  She leaned her head into the hand stroking her hair. “Then you need to discuss this with her as a future possibility.”

  “She won’t mind,” Will began, but Elizabeth interrupted him, placing one hand on his chest.

  “Will,” she admonished, her expression reproving, “how would you react if you went on a business trip, and when you returned, your sister told you she had moved her boyfriend into the apartment?”

  He stilled and blinked a few times.

  Elizabeth smiled widely. “See?” She kissed his nose and led him downstairs. When they reached the bottom, she told him, “You are a man who plans things. So enjoy yourself. Make all the plans you want to make.” She squeezed his hand. “Just don’t expect them to happen overnight.”

  Elizabeth was almost regretting her resolve to remain on her own when Will dropped her off at her building. He walked her up to her apartment, of course. They stood awkwardly in her living room, neither one wishing to separate from the other. Had the room always been this small?

  “Will,” Elizabeth said at last, “I know you have to go. I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow to meet Richard. I’ll even let you drive me back.”

  He growled. “I will never understand why you want to take the train all the time.”

  “I will never understand why you don’t,” she quipped.

  Will sighed and drew her in close. “G should be home by now.”

  Elizabeth pulled back. “You didn’t pick her up?” she asked, scolding, “Will!”

  Will shrugged. “She told me not to. In fact, I was quite firmly put in my place. She’s evidently a woman now and doesn’t need to be coddled. She didn’t even want Jerry.” His phone buzzed, and he checked it briefly before replacing it in its holster. He frowned, and she tried to recall him to the conversation.

  “Is she taking the train?” Elizabeth asked. “Your sister?”

  “No,” he said. “She’s reserved a town car at the airport. Total waste when Jerry’s just sitting at home waiting to be called.”

  She laughed softly. “Poor Jerry could use a day off now and then,” she said. She took his hand and walked him to the sofa where they sat. “Did her boyfriend come with her?” Elizabeth had thought the whole trip to meet the family had sounded less than certain and was unimpressed with what Richard had told Will about the man. Not that she was about to say anything. Not your place, Bennet, she’d told herself. Will was already tied up in knots about this new man in his sister’s life.

  Will shook his head, and when he spoke, his voice revealed his disdain. “Apparently at the last minute, he bailed. Something about his mother being sick.” “Maybe Juraj is afraid of the big brother and the Marine cousin.”

  Will snorted. “Or the senator uncle.” He leaned over and kissed her again, this time a deep, passionate kiss that left them both gasping for air.

  “Well,” Elizabeth said with a smile, still a little breathless, “we can’t all be Marines.”

  Major Richard Fitzwilliam strolled along the Senne as the sun came up, making his official farewell to the city. His duffel was packed, his dress blues laid out on his perfectly made bed. He’d need to head to the airport in a few hours, and he wasn’t looking forward to the madness of the crowds headed for New York this week. The general’s last dig, he thought sourly, to schedule my separation date on the busiest travel day of the year.

  Even his father hadn’t been able to get him a first-class seat.
The best tickets had been sold out for months. Still, he had a desire to be home for his first Thanksgiving in years, and he was willing to put up with it. Maybe I can just get some sleep, he thought with more hope than belief.

  When he arrived at the terminal, he waited in the long line to check his bag. There was no way there’d be bin space left for it by the time he boarded and took his last row seat. He could feel his legs cramping already. His phone buzzed against his leg and he pulled it out of his pocket.

  As much as you don’t deserve it, enjoy your flight.

  It was Bennet. He grinned and typed back, No marching bands and cheerleaders with short skirts waiting for my arrival?

  Her reply was quick. Dirty old man.

  He chuckled. You expected . . .?

  Her response was just as fast as the first. Gratitude.

  He snorted. Gratitude? For what?

  This time, the reply was nearly instantaneous, as though she’d started typing before he’d asked the question. Are you at the counter yet?

  Just about. Richard waited a few seconds while the next attendant became available. She waved him over, and he dropped his duffel on the scale. He proffered his passport and military ID to her and she typed something into her computer. She smiled.

  “We have an upgrade for you, sir,” she told him.

  Richard was shocked. “Really? I tried for days to get . . . “

  The phone buzzed again, and he glanced down at the screen. You’re welcome.

  He let out a little laugh, taking the coveted first-class ticket from the young woman with a nod and his thanks. Once he was through security and found his gate, he pulled his phone back out. How?

  There was a bit of delay this time before her answer appeared. Mayor of Brussels wouldn’t let an Order of the Crown winner go home coach.

  Richard didn’t mention he thought Bennet had flown coach. Even my dad couldn’t get a first-class ticket for me.

  He could almost hear the pride in her voice through the words that appeared on his screen. I asked nicely. Did he?

  Richard laughed out loud. Senator Fitzwilliam never asked for anything, and he wasn’t nice at all. He reached the gate and collapsed into the last remaining chair, earning him a dirty look from a young businessman who’d been two steps behind him. Does this mean I have to be polite?

  Wouldn’t dream of it. Truce for TG. After…

  Oh yeah. Game on. See you at the airport? he typed.

  See you there. Safe travels, Richard.

  Elizabeth was nearly out the door, a taxi idling outside, when her phone rang. When she saw Kit’s name, she answered. “Kit, I’m just on my way out, can I . . .”

  “Lizzy?” she heard her sister ask in a voice shaking with adrenaline. Elizabeth stopped dead, instantly on alert.

  “Kit, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m at the township police station . . .”

  Elizabeth’s heart rate sped up significantly. “What happened?”

  “It’s Kaylie. She’s in trouble.”

  Elizabeth released a breath she hadn’t meant to hold.

  “And she says she won’t talk to anyone but you.” Kit sounded as though she would burst into tears at any moment.

  “Kit,” Elizabeth replied, confused, “I don’t even know Kaylie.”

  “She says she’ll only talk to you. Lizzy, I think her stepfather . . .”

  “I’m on my way,” Elizabeth snapped, and abruptly ended the call. Her focus was now entirely on her fears for the timid girl who had asked how to protect herself. Why didn’t I talk to her after? Why didn’t I talk to her teachers? I knew something wasn’t right. I got so wrapped up in my own petty drama I completely forgot about her. It took her less than fifteen minutes to arrive at the station in Montclair.

  “Thank you for coming so fast,” Kit said, grabbing Elizabeth’s hands. Her eyes were rimmed with red. “I just didn’t know what else to do. She wouldn’t tell me much, but I insisted she go to the police, and now she won’t talk to anyone but you.”

  “It’s okay, Kit.” She saw a sign forbidding phones in the back rooms and handed hers over to her little sister. “Would you just call Will for me? Tell him I was delayed and will call him later?” She was sorry to miss Richard’s homecoming, but he would understand. “Oh, and call to make sure Jeremy at the front desk of Will’s building got the delivery for Richard? His number’s in my contacts.”

  “Sure, of course,” Kit replied, “just please go see Kaylie. They said you should go to the main desk and they’ll take you back.”

  The room she was led to was set up more as a small living room than the interrogation room she’d been expecting. There was gray carpet, several blue sofas, and a few overstuffed armchairs scattered around a cheap coffee table. At the far end of the room was a young girl staring out a window that overlooked the parking lot, her palms flat against the casement, appearing for all the world as though she wished to leap out of the building and fly away. From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw a female officer sitting in one of the chairs. The male officer who’d brought her stayed in the hall and quietly shut the door behind them.

  “Kaylie?” she said, breaking the silence in the room. The girl didn’t turn. “Kaylie, Kit said you wanted to speak with me. We met at the Career Assembly, remember?”

  The figure at the window turned slowly to face her. Elizabeth wasn’t sure what to expect, but it hadn’t been this. Kaylie wasn’t wearing her glasses, her blouse was torn where the shoulder met the sleeve, and she was sporting a deep red mark certain to develop into a spectacular bruise on one side of her jaw. On the windowsill was an abandoned ice pack sitting in a pool of water. She stared blankly at Elizabeth.

  “Kaylie?” she asked again, very carefully. Just as Elizabeth was about to wheel around on the officer and demand the girl be taken to the hospital to be treated for shock, Kaylie’s face crumpled, and she began to sob. Elizabeth covered the ground between them in five long strides, put her hand gently behind Kaylie’s head, and drew the girl’s face into her shoulder. She wrapped her other arm around the girl’s back.

  “Hey, shh,” she whispered, just as she had for her sisters, years before. “You’re okay now.”

  Kaylie sobbed as though her heart was breaking. My fault, Elizabeth thought, stunned and guilty. I saw it and I did nothing. When the sobs at last began to slow, Elizabeth helped Kaylie to the sofa. The officer was standing now and reached out to help guide the girl, but Kaylie snatched her arm back. Elizabeth and the officer exchanged glances as she helped Kaylie to a seat and crouched in front of her.

  “What happened, Kaylie?” she asked softly. “Kit said something about your stepfather?”

  Kaylie had ducked her face behind her long black hair and nodded. “He doesn’t like me,” she cried. Her hands were trembling. “He hates me.” She hiccupped. “I want to live with my dad.”

  “What happened?” Elizabeth asked again gently. Her stomach twisted painfully. She had no idea what she was doing. She didn’t know any psychology and hoped she wasn’t asking the wrong questions or pushing Kaylie when she shouldn’t. She wished Jane was here. At least she had some training.

  “You told us to use what we had,” Kaylie whispered.

  Elizabeth nodded. “I did,” she confirmed.

  Two large brown eyes gazed up at Elizabeth steadily, gauging her reaction. Elizabeth just waited. The explanation came out in machine-like bursts. “I only had me. He hit me and I fell. I got up, but I couldn’t run away. He’d just find me again. So I ran at him. I finally ran at him.” Her face began to clear a little as she said it. She blinked owlishly. “He was surprised.”

  Elizabeth stifled an admiring laugh as she considered the tiny girl. “I’ll bet.”

  Kaylie took a deep breath and the rest spilled out. “I pushed him as hard as I could. He didn’t move much, just enough to have to put one foot back.” She frowned. “It was probably more from the surprise than the push.”

  Elizabeth fought to keep her f
ace passive. She nodded encouragingly. Telling her story seemed to be helping Kaylie, and she had no idea what else to do, so she would simply try not to interrupt. Instead, she gave the girl her undivided attention.

  “He stepped on his son’s skateboard and lost his balance.” She gripped Elizabeth’s hands tightly. “He fell all the way down the stairs.” Her breath was coming in short gasps now. “And I ran out of the house and called Kit to come get me.” Elizabeth tightened her hold on Kaylie’s hand and leaned in close.

  “Kaylie,” she said in a low, soothing voice. “I’m proud of you.”

  Kaylie choked on a sob. “Really?” she forced out, her voice hopeful, two fat tears working their way out of her eyes.

  “Of course,” Elizabeth said, squeezing Kaylie’s hands and looking her directly in the eyes. “You used what you had. You protected yourself, and then you got help.”

  Thus encouraged, Kaylie blurted, “But the police said he told them that I just pushed him for no reason! He wants me sent to jail.”

  “Kaylie,” Elizabeth said firmly. “It’s not your fault he stepped on a skateboard. Besides, he can’t deny the mark on your face.” She could feel how thin Kaylie’s hands were, and her anger surged. I’d bet he outweighs her by at least a hundred pounds.

  “He told the police I walked into a door.”

  Elizabeth snorted. “Well, at least he’s original.”

  Kaylie shook her head, bewildered.

  “Sorry,” Elizabeth apologized. “Not the right time. That was meant to be ironic.”

  “Oh,” Kaylie breathed, a small smile beginning to develop.

  Elizabeth placed a hand on the girl’s knee. “Honey, nobody who sees you will believe you walked into a door,” she said reassuringly. She carefully turned Kaylie’s face to the side to get a better look. She frowned. “Unless the door has knuckles and ripped your shirt.”