“I used to go to Eddie’s for a beer with boys after work and sometimes Chris would be there. He loved to brag about how often your mom came to ‘visit’ him even from the shelter. I heard he went in to work drunk the day after her death, ranting and raving, almost got fired. I assumed you’d gone back into foster care. She probably told him George Darcy liked you, and it wasn’t a secret you’d been adopted. He probably didn’t think about it again until he saw the article in the paper about you taking over for your dad as CEO.” He smiled. “Nice picture. I knew it was you right away.”
“It never occurred to me that she’d been in a relationship when we were at the shelter. It makes sense that he knew who I was that way.” Will shook his head. So many things he hadn’t known about his mother, and many that he never would.
There was something he had to do now, though. “Thank you,” Will said, holding his hand out. “Thank you for coming.”
Mark nodded, his dark eyes alight. He couldn’t have been that old, but his face was deeply lined. Clearly he’d led a difficult life. But unlike Will’s mother, he seemed to have dug himself out of it.
Will turned to go, but was stopped by a rough, calloused hand on his forearm. “Will,” Mark said, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Will turned to face him. “What?”
Mark’s breath was coming a little harder. “I have kids now,” he said quietly. “And if they were treated by anyone the way I treated you…”
“I forgive you,” Will said. “It was rough, I’ll admit it, but the Darcys were the best parents a boy could wish for, and ultimately that’s what everything led to. It was all worth it in the end to have them as my parents.”
Mark heaved a sigh of relief and nodded, his mouth turned up in the slightest of smiles as they parted ways.
Anne would be smugly triumphant. She loved being of use almost as much as her mother did. If it weren’t for her fiancė David, Mark might never have worked up the nerve to reach out to Will. It was a small world, really, that Anne’s David not only worked at Mark’s auto shop, but was Mark’s son. When David had heard Mark talking about George Wickham and what he knew, he’d urged him to come forward and he’d told Anne.
Will had hoped that his pictures would provide some reasonable doubt that Chris Younge was telling the truth, but he was sure that having a third party offer personal testimony had probably sealed the deal. And Younge hadn’t come across looking credible after Will’s offer. Will was pretty sure that anybody watching today’s episode of Let the Truth Hurt would know that Younge’s accusations were nothing but a pack of lies.
The episode would air in a couple of days. For now, he wanted to do nothing so much as go back home and sleep. He’d gotten up at three to get ready for his appearance on the show, and now that the stress was over, he was ready to collapse. But first, he had to let his family and Elizabeth know how it had gone.
The text to Ana was easy. Nailed it, he typed and hit “send.” He knew she’d pass along the message to his parents. Sure enough, a moment later, he got a response. Knew you would. Go bro! He smiled.
Elizabeth’s text was a little trickier. He kept writing and deleting, trying to find just the right words. Finally, he wrote, Went as well as could be expected. His evidence was crap. Came across as a leech.
Her response was almost immediate, making him think she’d probably been sitting there waiting to hear how it went. And Mark?
He showed up. Will had been a bit nervous until the last minute, hoping that Mark really would come. He’d still had a lingering hesitancy to rely on Mark completely. But he had shown up. He really was almost a new man. We talked. He’s a good guy.
You’ve forgiven him?
Yeah. Mark had never been cruel to him, and as a child, he’d thought that was enough, compared to many others in his life. As an adult looking back, he could see how hurtful being treated as invisible had been. But Mark had come to the same realization and apologized, and Will really did truly forgive him. If only his mother had had the same chance.
I love that about you.
A thrill ran up his spine at the words. Did she mean it that way? He was glad to be able to give her one more piece of news. Positive he’s not my father. Unlikely to find bio father, but don’t care. Dad is more than enough.
Your family is wonderful, Lizzy texted back. I love them, too.
The meeting with the Board of Advisors started uncomfortably, but once Will had given them a summary of how the show had gone, they were much more inclined to wait the situation out. The show would air within a few days, as there was very little time between filming and broadcasting of Let the Truth Hurts.
“That’s about as good as an admission of guilt,” Marcus Crawley said. “At least as far as the public opinion goes. I’m sure nobody will still believe Younge after this.”
Emily Banks agreed. “I thought you’d demand a paternity test, but I don’t think you even need it now. It was clear that he was lying about your childhood. But, if he was willing to take a paternity test and it showed he really was your father, would you have gone through with it? You’d have paid his medical bills?”
Will nodded. “Yes, as long as they came from a legitimate hospital and I could pay them directly. I wasn’t going to just send him a check.”
“That sounds like it was a wise decision,” Marcus Crowley said.
The others around the table were nodding.
“I was uncomfortable, I’ll admit, with such a young CEO and the clear nepotism of taking over the position from his father, even if his eventual ownership is inevitable,” Leonard Bailey said, not looking at Will. “And this whole scandal just seemed to prove my point. But he seems to have survived unscathed. I’m still not comfortable with either his age or his credentials, but on this, at least, I’ll rescind my complaint. He’s done an excellent job by any other benchmark.”
“Chris Younge’s accusations were obviously lies from the start,” Will said, gazing directly at Leonard until the older man met his eyes. “There was absolutely no reason to believe some unknown man’s baseless rants without any sort of real evidence to begin with. It may be fodder for the news, but it shouldn’t have been taken more seriously than that. Now, I may not be able to do anything about my age, but in terms of credentials, I think taking on the position of CEO and succeeding a year out of business school and while my father was gravely injured more than proves my abilities.”
Leonard gave a little chuckle. “It does indeed. Very well. You have my support.”
Will felt entirely vindicated; Leonard had been his biggest detractor. If he’d decided to give in for now, the rest should be easy. And to actually get a compliment out of him was always a bonus.
Sure enough, there was a bit more discussion, and then the board decided that the situation would run its course without further damage to the company.
“If anything,” Borami said, “it might provide some benefit. There’s a huge human interest story in George adopting Will as a boy and in Will’s rags-to-riches story of going from homeless to foster care to adoption. People might have a bit more respect for him that he’s experienced poverty.”
“Even if he himself didn’t work his way out of it,” Leonard said wryly.
“That’s true,” Will said. “I had every advantage once I met my father, and I’m grateful for it. And even before that, I made a friend who helped me along the way. I hope one day to be a friend to other kids in that situation.”
“And of course,” Marcus said, “there’s his work at the homeless shelter. Shows he hasn’t forgotten his past and that he’s helping others in the same situation.”
The others concurred, and Will felt his shoulders relax. This was probably the best meeting of the board he’d had since he first became CEO.
Richard, who had been quiet until now, piped up. “Yeah, he’s just like Cinderella.” Arun snorted, but everybody else seemed to ignore the remark.
On second thought, perhaps the meeting had g
one on just a bit too long. He glared at Richard, who grinned angelically back.
George Darcy, who had remained quiet until now, gave them a nod, and everyone went silent. He might no longer be the CEO, but he retained ownership of the firm and had hand-selected the board. “Thank you all for coming. I think we’ve settled this situation the best we can for now, and I expect it will blow over soon.” He stood, which was the signal for them all to stand.
Will shook his head, smiling to himself. His father might no longer be the CEO, but he slipped back into his old role so easily. Will didn’t mind. Dad was still the owner, and he hoped it would stay that way for a long time. Now that things with Younge were settled, though, Will knew that he wanted to keep his position as CEO. He’d talk to his father and give his final answer as soon as he could, but there was something more important he had to do first.
Will couldn’t wait to talk to Lizzy in person. He’d texted her to tell her the board meeting had gone well, but he couldn’t give her all the details by text, and by the time the meeting had let out, she was at work. She was working an evening shift Friday until late and the early morning shift Saturday, so Will wouldn’t be able to see her in person until Saturday afternoon.
Saturday morning, he decided the best way to keep busy while waiting for Elizabeth was to stop by the new shelter. After a quick call to Richard―in which he pointed out that if he was Cinderella, Richard was probably the fat mouse―he stopped by a local bookstore on his way over.
When he walked into the new rec room, a few of the kids glanced up briefly, then went back to their activities. He walked over to a knot of kids who looked to be in kindergarten or early elementary. He put the box he’d brought on the floor by the kids.
“Hey,” he said, “anybody want to hear a book about some silly penguins?”
Two kids perked up. “Okay,” one said.
He sat down on a couch, and the two kids sat on either side of him. He opened Mr. Popper’s Penguins, and read, “It was an afternoon in late September. In the pleasant little city of Stillwater, Mr. Popper, the house painter, was going home from work.”
“I thought this story was about penguins?” the little girl asked.
“Of course it is, stupid,” the boy said, grabbed the book and shutting it on Will’s hand. “See the cover? Penguins!”
“We’ll get to the penguins,” Will said with a grin. “You just have to be patient.” He waffled for a moment about whether to address the name-calling, but decided to let it go this once in the interest of getting on with the story.
Will continued reading about Mr. Popper, his family, and his penguin. And then penguins. He noticed after a while that several other children had dropped what they were doing and were crowding around the couch, squishing the first two children, sitting on armrests, or leaning over the back. He kept his smile to himself, but he couldn’t help remembering how eagerly he’d lapped up the stories that Lizzy had read to him as a boy in a similar situation.
He read chapter after chapter, drinking from the water bottle he’d brought along, until he could manage no more. He’d gotten through more than half the book, a feat he was rather impressed with himself for, but he needed to call it a day.
Will was gratified at the groans and cries of “Oh, no!” when he finally stopped. He looked up, laughing, and met the eyes of Lizzy standing near the doorway, watching him with a smile.
His heart stopped for a moment, then began to race. How had she known where to find him?
He got up so quickly he almost dislodged some of his friendliest listeners and apologized quickly. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and I think I’ll be able to finish,” he said. “Then I’ll have to pick another book for next weekend.”
“Can we read something with dogs next?” one boy asked.
“No, cats!” a little girl said.
“Dragons!” another little girl cried.
He laughed. “Well. We’ll see. I know some great stories with all of those! In fact, I know one with a cat and a dragon.” He had already decided on My Father’s Dragon next, but at the moment he was a little distracted.
He smiled at Lizzy and gave her a “just a minute” sign, then turned back to the kids.
“Who wants to borrow a book?” he asked.
Many of the kids raised their hands, and they crowded back in close again.
“Okay, I have picture books for anyone who doesn’t read much yet,” he said, putting out the picture books in a pile. “And chapter books for those who do.”
He interceded when a few kids tried to take several books instead of just one, until all the books were distributed.
“I’ll be back tomorrow to read you the rest of this story, but it will probably take you a bit longer to read your books. When I come back next weekend, if you’re done, you can give me back the book you have and get a new one, okay?”
He stood up, brushed himself off, and walked over to join Lizzy.
“Hey,” she said with a smile.
“Hey. How did you know where I was?”
Lizzy shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. I strung Richard up by his toenails until he told me.”
Will laughed. “In other words, you asked and he told.”
“Got it in one! So . . . are you free to leave?” Lizzy asked, glancing around.
“Are you asking if I’m being held prisoner?”
“Funny guy. No, I mean, is there anything else they need help with?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t really have a plan, just came by to read to them for a bit. I was killing time until . . . well, Jane said you weren’t available until the afternoon. I was going to do some tutoring, but I’ll come by later for that.”
They walked out the door into the bright sunshine and to Will’s car. Will held the door for Lizzy, then went around to let himself in and started the car. She didn’t say anything about how she got to the shelter, so he hoped that Jane had given her a ride and that they weren’t abandoning Jane’s car in the lot, but he wasn’t about to ask. He had a plan.
“I love that they offer tutoring,” Lizzy said as he backed the car out. “It’s so easy to get behind in schoolwork if you miss a few days, and it’s got to be hard to keep up when your home situation is so shaky.”
“Yeah. It’s mostly homework help, but if it helps kids do well in school when everything else is stacked against them . . . I wish they’d had some of this stuff back when I was here. Or, you know, at the old shelter.”
Lizzy bit her lip. “I knew,” she said slowly, “that things weren’t . . . good. But I didn’t know how bad. And I didn’t know how to help.”
He laughed. “You were absolutely perfect anyway, you know. Maybe a little too perfect sometimes. You brought me food, you brought me a coat and boots, and you gave me something to look forward to.”
“I wish I’d thought to bring you shoes,” she admitted. “I thought about that years later when I’d look at our pictures. Your shoes were held together with duct tape. I didn’t even notice at the time.”
“I thought women always noticed people’s shoes.”
Lizzy laughed. “I would probably have noticed if you were wearing Jimmy Choos.”
“The duct tape worked surprisingly well.”
Lizzy giggled when she recognized where Will had driven them: the parking lot of their old park.
“Are we taking a trip down memory lane? Again?”
“Yes, totally.” He grabbed her hand and half-dragged her as she squealed with laughter. They raced down the path and collapsed, panting, onto their bench.
Will waited until he’d caught his breath, then turned to her and took a deep breath.
“Lizzy, I adore you. I think I’ve loved you since we first met at this very park. And now that we’ve found each other again, I don’t ever want to say goodbye.”
Lizzy’s eyes were wide. Will hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake. He was sure, or almost sure, at least, that she felt the same way about him. But he couldn’t take it back
now, and he didn’t want to.
“I’m not always good at talking about my feelings. I guess that’s why we knew each other for so long but knew so little about what was really going on in each other’s lives.” He swallowed. “And we’ve been on such a roller coaster, from my stupid attitude when we first met again, to our friendship and adventures together, to our romance. So I want to make sure I’ve said it loud and clear. I love you, Lizzy. I want to spend our lives together. Will you marry me?” He held his breath at the end. He’d gone back and forth, wondering if it was too soon. Would he scare her away, proposing already? But he was absolutely certain that he wanted to marry her and couldn’t imagine waiting another minute.
“Oh, Will.” Her answer was almost a sigh. “I’ve been falling in love with you for ages, and I didn’t even know you were my George. When I did . . . well, once I got over being angry at you, anyway, it was like all the pieces fell into place. The George I loved as a child, and the Will I love as an adult. I love you, too, so very much.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”
“Oh,” she gasped, laughing. “Yes! It’s a yes!”
He pulled her close and kissed her lips lightly. He could feel her smile against his mouth, and then she kissed him again. This time he closed his eyes and let himself feel nothing except Elizabeth’s soft, delicious mouth, her delightful scent, her little hum of happiness, and the tingling warmth of her body in his arms.
“My Lizzy,” he whispered. His experiences had been so completely different as George Wickham and as Fitzwilliam Darcy that it was sometimes hard to reconcile the two lives he’d lived. Nobody else truly knew him in both. Even the Darcys, for all they’d meant to him, didn’t really know George Wickham, for he’d begun to change by the time he met them. But Lizzy―Lizzy knew all of him. She had loved the boy and loved the man. He had loved her in each life, too. It was a miracle, really―one he was very thankful for.
A Good Name: A Modern Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 29