Adapt

by Melanie Rachel

  The glare diminished a bit, and he ran an arm over his forehead to keep the sweat out of his eyes. “Okay,” he grunted, and Elizabeth thought she heard a bit of resignation there.

  “Good,” she said. She kept pace with him but allowed him to take a few steps ahead at the end. As he reached the others, she turned her back and took some jogging steps backwards, indicating with a sweep of her forefinger that she was going to take another lap around the schoolyard to cool down. Her uncle nodded, and she took off.

  Soon, Richard was beside her, jogging at her pace. “How’s the knee?” he asked.

  “Feels pretty good today,” she replied, taking in a big breath and letting it out through her nose. “How long have you two been out here today?”

  “All day,” he said, grinning. “It’s been a blast.”

  She laughed, her arms pumping slowly as she tried to wind down the run. “You’ve been breaking them down, I assume?”

  He nodded and sent her a lopsided grin. “Most fun I’ve had in ages.”

  They jogged along in silence until Elizabeth suddenly announced, “Jane says you two are getting along.”

  Richard didn’t respond.

  “That’s all right,” she continued, “Jane wouldn’t say much either. I’m not going to get involved—it’s not my business.”

  “That’s correct, Bennet,” he grunted.

  “I’m just going to remind you,” she said quietly, “that I’ve seen you looking at women before, and in Brussels, you had a bit of a reputation.” Her stare was a cold one. “Don’t hurt her.”

  “You’re not in the mob, Bennet,” Richard responded lightly. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “We don’t need the mob,” she replied, very calmly. “We have Ed Gardiner.” She ran ahead then, stopping next to her uncle and resuming her at-attention posture.

  Ed Gardiner was speaking with the boys, getting ready to release them back to their parents, when he put a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder.

  “Staff Sergeant Bennet, I’d like to introduce you to the boys who plastered your recruiting posters all over the school.” He intentionally did not go into more detail than that. “You have bettered them by every measure. Would you like to speak to them?”

  Elizabeth considered the offer. What is there to say? Still, it seemed that her uncle and Richard had gone to a great deal of trouble to set this up. It hit her then. Will. His giant paw prints are all over this.

  “Just this,” she finally began. “When you disrespect someone, it can make her or him feel small, but in truth, you are revealing to the world that you are.” She took a breath and added, “But you don’t have to stay small.” Her eyes bored into theirs, and she took her time, making certain each boy understood. “When I was seventeen, I decided who I wanted to be. I’ve had to make that decision over and over and over again. You will, too. You should start today.”

  As the sky began to darken, the parking lot filled with nearly a dozen cars. After the rush of parents signing out, only one kid remained, impatient for his mother to arrive. Elizabeth had changed and was rooting through her bag nearby when Uncle Ed joined the boy who’d lagged behind on the run with her. Uncle Ed allowed him to sign himself out and handed him the letter.

  “Your mother tells me you’ve been giving her some trouble,” Uncle Ed said quietly, staring out into the street.

  “Maybe,” the boy replied tiredly, tugging the cuffs of his sweatshirt over his hands. Ed nodded, face set in a severe mask.

  “You’re angry at your mother?”

  Wallace shrugged and shuffled his feet. “I’m angry at them both. Just he’s not here.”

  Uncle Ed grunted softly. “And your mother is.” He turned his face slightly. The boy was worrying a hole in his sweatpants.

  “Yeah.”

  “You might want to think about that.” He clapped a hand to the boy’s shoulder. “She’s trying. It’s a bad situation all round.”

  “You haven’t any idea,” the boy sighed. “Your parents aren’t divorcing.”

  “No,” Uncle Ed agreed. “But I’ve had plenty of family issues to address. Nobody’s life is perfect, Wes.”

  Plenty of family issues. He sure did, Elizabeth thought.

  When they’d arrived in Montclair, Elizabeth knew she couldn’t afford college. She’d asked Uncle Ed about her college account—he’d not been able to get the bank to release it to her. Even if he was now her guardian, his name wasn’t on the account. They wouldn’t even tell him if the money was still there.

  She had allowed herself to wallow in the unfairness of her situation. Her family all knew where they fit in. She didn’t, not anymore. She wasn’t an athlete, wasn’t a college-bound student, wasn’t the mom. She wasn’t even the big sister in charge anymore, with Jane back. She’d started sneaking out at night almost from the start, finding all the other losers, drinking with them, smoking with them—but that was it. She was determined her coach’s baseless accusations about using drugs would never become reality, but a few beers—that wasn’t the same thing. They weren’t going anywhere, any of them, but at least she had somewhere she belonged.

  Uncle Ed had watched her strangely for a few weeks until he’d appeared in the basement early one morning, so early it wasn’t yet light outside. He’d rousted her from bed, still half drunk, and forced her into a training routine that had left her too wrung out to leave the house at night. She threw up that first day, but her uncle had reignited her competitive desire by timing her runs, running with her, counting out push-ups, training her to do pull-ups, betting her he could do more. He could. They had trained as though they were headed for the Olympics, and when she asked why he wasn’t going in to work, he had said, gruffly, “You are more important.”

  He’d taken a full month off from his business. For her.

  When, at the end of the first week he’d made a comment about not training as hard since the Marines, she’d begun to ask him about the military. For the first time, she had a goal in mind. And it was because Uncle Ed had cared for her. He hadn’t been able to make her feel at home, precisely—but he had taught her how to seek it out on her own. That she was better than she thought. Stronger. Tougher.

  Richard jogged up to Uncle Ed, the movement interrupting her memories. He was back in civilian clothes, car key in hand. He glanced between Ed and the boy. “Should I meet you back at the house, Gunny?”

  Ed nodded once.

  “Hey,” Richard said seriously, holding out a hand, “good work today, Wallace.” The boy swallowed hard before proffering his own. After a firm shake, he trotted off towards his borrowed car.

  “Speaking of disappointments,” Uncle Ed began again as they watched Richard leave, “Major Fitzwilliam over there is hustling to my house in the hope that my eldest niece Jane will be joining us for dinner.”

  A small grin stretched Wallace’s lips. “And she isn’t?”

  Ed chuckled. “Nope. She’s at work tonight.”

  Elizabeth chuckled softly.

  The Audi left the lot in a hurry. No other vehicles entered. Wallace checked his phone again. “Your other niece,” he ventured, eyes on the screen, “she was nice to me today.”

  Elizabeth felt her cheeks warming.

  Uncle Ed grunted. “She’s a good person, Wesley.”

  The boy’s eyes were far away. “I didn’t think about her as a real person.” Aimlessly, he dug a hole in the ground with his toe. “When we put those pictures up.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “I suppose I owe her an apology.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “I suppose you do,” her uncle replied.

  Wesley hesitated. “But you didn’t make us.”

  Uncle Ed shook his head. “Means nothing if it’s forced.” Elizabeth smiled to herself. He had influenced her more than she remembered. She’d spoken those very words to Georgiana Darcy only a few days ago.

  The boy was silent. Elizabeth saw the twin lights of an approaching car and stood to join them
. When she stepped to her uncle’s side, Wallace stared at her for a moment, and she stared back, one eyebrow arched inquisitively.

  “Um,” he said, and cleared his throat, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Staff Sergeant. For, uh. . . ” He flushed. “You know.”

  Elizabeth nodded once.

  “Accepted, Mr. Wallace,” she replied crisply. She thought she detected a very small smile.

  At that moment, he caught the figure of his mother standing by her car and waving at him.

  “I have to go,” he said, then, “thanks, Gunny.”

  “Any time, Wallace.” Uncle Ed gave him a friendly slap on the back. “You know where to find me.”

  He turned back to face Uncle Ed. “Really?” His face was weary, but hopeful.

  “My door is open, young man.”

  “Okay.” He picked up his bag and water bottle. “Good night.”

  Uncle Ed was quiet as he watched the boy jog back to his mother. He allowed his mother to hug him briefly before climbing in the passenger side of the car.

  “Another protégé, Uncle Ed?” Elizabeth asked knowingly. She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. It was getting cold.

  “Maybe,” he replied as they began to stroll to his truck. “There seem to be a lot of candidates these days.”

  “Well, as a graduate of the program,” she teased, “I can give you a stellar recommendation.”

  Uncle Ed scoffed. “Who says you’ve graduated?”

  It was after dark when Will and Georgiana returned to the apartment laden with at least ten vinyl records she was desperate to play.

  “That’s what I need for Christmas, Will,” she said, “A record player to take to school. They still make them, right?”

  “I heard you the first hundred times you told me, G.” He pushed her gently through the front entrance. “I don’t know why I even bother wrapping your presents anymore.”

  Georgiana placed her bags down next to the wall, then turned to her brother. “Thanks for a great day, Will,” she said quietly. “It was wonderful to have some time, just the two of us.” Her eyes widened, “I mean, not that Elizabeth isn’t nice. She is, but . . . “

  Will grinned. “It’s all right, G. Remove the foot from your mouth and use it to stand.” He tossed an arm around her shoulder. “Elizabeth told me you deserved some brother time. If she hadn’t gotten sick, we’d have done it sooner.”

  “Brother time,” she huffed, “more like bother time. What am I, three?”

  Will shrugged, “It’s okay, G, you don’t have to pretend anymore. Everyone wants to spend time with me and my sparkling personality. It’s not just you.”

  His statement was followed by a shriek of laughter and some finger pointing. Will just shook his head at his sister and put a hand over his heart. “You’re breaking my heart, G. Truly.”

  Georgiana’s flight was early, but the pair stayed up late anyway, drinking hot chocolate and watching holiday movies on television. Her behavior was a complete turnaround from the sister who’d arrived before Thanksgiving, and Will knew exactly who to credit. He hoped things had gone well at the high school and that she’d had a productive day. He checked his watch and thought he would send her a text before he went to bed.

  After he and G had said their goodnights, Will took out his phone. He missed Elizabeth, but it would be a few days before they saw each another again. Despite his organizational trip on Saturday, he would need to stay late at work tomorrow and he had early meetings much of the week. At least they had the dinner on Friday to look forward to. He hoped Kit’s dress was all Elizabeth expected it would be. He began to type.

  You awake?

  The reply was quick. She must have been waiting for it.

  I’m here. Where’d you two go today?

  He rolled his eyes, glad she couldn’t see him. St. Mark’s. He sent a photo he’d taken of Georgiana in one of her get-ups. Vintage clothes and vintage music.

  I can hear the whining all the way in Bloomfield, Will. A pause, and then, OMG, the pic is hilarious. Clearly you had a good time.

  Eventually. We did. Thanks. He thought back on their day. It had been fun after G finished all the modeling of weird clothes.

  No problem, he read, and then, hang on.

  His phone rang. “Hello, love,” he said softly.

  “Oh, Will,” he heard her teasing tone, “I just adore that sexy voice. Say it again.”

  He harrumphed. “I may not say anything ever again. It’s too much pressure.”

  She laughed, and the part of him that missed her relaxed a little.

  “Sorry,” she was saying. “I missed you today, but I did get a lot of work done. I also had the opportunity to tell off a bunch of little boys at the high school. Your work, I assume?”

  He blushed, glad she wasn’t in the room to see it. “Well, you were upset . . .”

  “Mmm,” she replied. “Uncle Ed and your cousin seemed to be having the time of their lives. They kept those boys there all day long and brought me in at the end. I didn’t even know what was going on.”

  “How’d they get you there?” Will asked, curious.

  She replied, “You know, I think it was the promise of pull-ups.”

  He was confused. “Who wants to do pull-ups?”

  There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “I think your girlfriend is seriously twisted, Will. What are you doing dating someone like her?”

  “I would love to have your twisted self in my bed right now, Elizabeth,” he replied honestly.

  “Agggh,” she sputtered. “You made me spit out my water.”

  “You brought it up,” he said with a grin, utterly unrepentant. He leaned back against the headboard of his bed and kicked off his shoes.

  “Listen,” she said, growing serious, “I have to go out of town for a few days for an interview.”

  “What?” he asked, sitting up. “Where?”

  “Marin, actually.”

  “Are you going on G’s flight?” he asked hopefully. “Do you need a ride?”

  “No,” she responded apologetically. “They booked me through later in the morning from Newark. Plus, it’d be pretty embarrassing to ride in coach while the Darcy heiress was in first class.”

  He shrugged. “That’s easy. I’d upgrade you.”

  She sighed again. “I was kidding, Will. You know, that thing people do when they’re hoping to make other people laugh?” Her voice lightened. “It’s a winery, by the way. They’re worried about competitors hacking their system for all their wine-making secrets, so they want to hire me to test the security every quarter. I’ll try to get you some free samples while I’m there.”

  “How long will you be gone?” he asked, fearing the answer. Don’t say all week, don’t say all week.

  “A few days.” Will let out a relieved breath. “I have to be back by Wednesday night for sure. Kit’s ready to kill me. I’m not leaving her much time for last-minute alterations, evidently.”

  “If she can’t finish it, I’ll take you out. Shopping with you has got to be better than watching G put on every polyester pantsuit in a very well-stocked store.”

  “Will Darcy,” Elizabeth said, aggravated, “stop trying to throw money at me. Kit has worked hard on this dress. I will be wearing it.”

  He cringed. “Sorry. I’m just desperate not to face Caroline Bingley on my own.” He heard a soft huff on the other end of the line. “Whatever you need to be there with me, I feel a deep, abiding need to provide.”

  “Whatever,” she said glibly, but he could tell she was trying not to laugh.

  “Am I forgiven? God forbid I try to spend money on you,” he pretended to complain. “I promise I’ll never do it again.”

  “Liar,” she replied fondly.

  “If you’re flying out tomorrow, you should get some rest.”

  “You should too, Will,” she chided him gently. “It’s late.”

  “Call me when you land and when you get to your hotel.” His phone b
uzzed, and he checked his text messages. She’d sent him her flight itinerary and hotel information. “Got it. Thanks, love.”

  “Good night, Will. I’ll text when I get in and call in the evening.”

  “Good night,” he said faintly as she hung up. Once he had a moment to think, he realized Elizabeth had changed the parameters of his request. She just can’t resist. A quick glance at the clock startled him into preparing for bed, and soon, he was fast asleep.

  In the middle of a particularly steamy dream about making love to Elizabeth on the deck of a little white sailboat, Will was shocked awake.

  “What the HELL!” Richard was screeching. Someone else was yelling, though it sounded as though it was coming from a television.

  Will cracked one eye open and fumbled for his watch. It was three am. “I don’t want to know,” he groaned, dropping the timepiece back on the nightstand. He rolled over onto his stomach, pulled a pillow over his head, and fell back to sleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Will rubbed a hand over the back of his head and raised a cup of coffee to his lips as Richard thumped his way up the stairs, laptop in hand. He glanced at his watch. Georgiana was in the shower, her small carry-on bag already placed at the front door. They had enough time for coffee before they had to leave, but not much. Jerry had already texted to confirm their departure time. He turned his eyes back to his cousin.

  “Thanks for the help last night, Will,” Richard grumbled. “It’s heartwarming to know you care.”

  Will shrugged. “There was no actual call for help, so I went back to sleep.” He finished the cup and reached for the carafe to pour another. “You started it. Did you really think she wouldn’t retaliate?”

  “My joke was funny,” insisted Richard. “This is just . . . mean.” He sat the laptop down and spun the screen around to face Will. He hit a button and a face, no, a mouth, filled the display. The sound was off, but when the camera pulled back, it revealed a rather attractive older woman in a Marine uniform, screaming something. Will’s blank face clearly irritated his cousin. “That’s the general, Will. The woman who single-handedly made my life a living hell for the last eighteen months of my career.”