by Lily Kate
“The two of you are so funny,” Caroline says again, grinning from ear to ear as she disentangles her fingers from mine. “I just love it. Anyway, the man you saw walking in the door is named Carlos. It wasn’t a gunshot wound.”
“What was it?”
“Well, Carlos is a nurse here at the hospital. Turns out, Shane opened the door for him too fast. Carlos was looking at his phone and walked straight into it; the situation ended with a pretty decent bloody nose.”
“But—”
“He’s perfectly alive and is already home. In fact, the only reason he came back was for a tissue.”
“That can’t be the same person I saw. There was so much blood, you don’t understand.”
“Sorry, but there are no gunshot wounds here.” Caroline shrugs. “But Carlos will be at the game tonight! I’ll have to introduce you.”
“This is...” I hesitate. “So embarrassing.”
“Stop worrying. Anyway, Dr. Darcy caught you as you hit the floor. He had me wait here with you just in case—he wanted to stay, but he was late already.”
“I’m fine, really.” I feel my face warming as the situation sinks in from start to finish. “This is really embarrassing.”
“Don’t say that! We’ve all been there. I fainted during the first operation I watched.”
“Yeah, but I’m guessing it wasn’t a bloody nose.”
I pinch the bridge of my own nose, thinking mortified would be a great word to describe my state of mind right now. Not only did I make a fool of myself by eavesdropping on Caroline and Jack’s potentially first romantic conversation ever, but I got myself invited to their kickball game, almost interrupted their car-ride-alone time together, and then proceeded to pass out in Jack’s arms at the first sight of blood.
I don’t know why I suspect Caroline and Jack would be a good fit, but it just feels like something I need to encourage. Maybe because she’s pretty and perky and sweet, and she’s smart and well-adjusted, and basically everything I’m not. Jack’s parents would approve of her, whereas they’d never approve of anyone like me. As a kindergarten teacher, I don’t quite fit into the Darcy Family Hall of Fame.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, trying to return to the reason I’d come here in the first place. “I should probably skip the game tonight—”
“Too late,” she interrupts, shaking a good-natured finger in my direction. “I already added your name to the roster. You’re stuck with us!”
“I’m still a little woozy.”
“Here.” Caroline hands me orange juice and a little lollipop. The kind doctors give out to children for being good sports during shots. “This might help. Maybe you didn’t eat enough this morning.”
“Oh, I ate plenty,” I drawl. “In fact, Jack cooked breakfast for four, and it was only two of us—”
“Dr. Darcy cooks?”
I freeze, watching a smile creep onto Caroline’s face. I probably shouldn’t have insinuated I’d slept over at Jack’s. “It’s not what you think,” I tell her. “I was giving him a ride to work, and—”
I pop the sucker into my mouth—for no reason other than it gives me something to do.
“Are you sure you’re feeling up to driving?” Caroline asks as I struggle to my feet and stumble toward my purse. “You can rest here for a while longer if you’d like.”
“I’m good,” I say, collapsing against the door frame. “I’m really, really great, thanks.”
“Okay, well, I have to get to work, so I suppose we’ll see you tonight?”
I nod, and then conclude with the dumbest finger wave known to man.
Caroline probably thinks I’m a few fruit loops short of a box. It’s highly likely she assumes that Jack Darcy only spends time with me because I’m a charity case. Or maybe it’s because I’m a weird medical mystery and he wants to research me with that big, fat, super-smart brain of his. I’m sure I’m an anomaly.
I make my way out of the hospital, one hand shielding my eyes to avoid any future run-ins with blood. I make it through the front doors after bumping into no less than seven door frames along the way. But I haven’t fainted, which makes this journey a stunning success.
When I reach the outdoors, however, my success is short-lived.
I glance around, searching for my car. I have my phone and keys in my purse, but the car that matches the keys has vanished.
“Just saw them tow something that might’ve belonged to you,” an old, creaky-looking guard says from behind me. “Black Nissan?”
“No! Seriously? I mean yes, that’s mine.” I clutch my keys and furiously press the alarm button in hopes my horn will go berserk. “I don’t have time to have my car impounded. I parked in a thirty-minute parking spot.”
“You parked in a fifteen-minute slot, and it had been there for nearly an hour.” He sizes me up. “Did you lose track of time?”
“I guess you could say that.” I glance at my phone, unfortunately confirming the accusations. “Well, shit.”
I pause, thinking for a moment, and scroll through my contacts. I instantly think of calling Jack, but that won’t do a whole lot seeing as he’s working here, and his motorcycle is at home. I thumb through my phonebook to the next best option, hit dial, and wait for the one person to answer who I know will not let me down.
“Dad?” I say once he picks up. “Say, a weird thing happened today.”
“What’d you do this time?”
“What’d I do? I wish you had more faith in me,” I say, cringing because I know what’s coming next. “I’m just calling to say hello.”
“Hello, and...?”
I let out a sigh of frustration. “I’m sorry. I’ll call more often.”
“What do you need, honey?”
“I got towed at the hospital. Long story.”
“Good, you can tell us about it over tea.”
“Tea?” I shake my head, then realize my dad can’t see that. “You’re not bribing me. Forget it; I’ll walk home.”
“I’m on my way, pumpkin. Don’t you dare move.”
“Dad!”
“I’m not sitting through high tea alone, honey.”
“Are you taking me hostage?”
“I’ll pay the impound fees on your vehicle and give you a ride.”
I bite my lip. The offer is a good one, and he knows it. “Fine, you have a deal. But I can’t stay long because I have a game tonight.”
“What kind of game? Bingo?”
“Dad. Come on. I know sports.”
“What’s your favorite sport?”
“The uh...” I hesitate. “One with the ball.”
“See you soon, pumpkin. By the way, it’s the Darcy’s today.”
“I’m reneging on our deal.”
“Too late.”
Chapter 7
ALLIE
“It’s so good to see you.” Mrs. William Darcy forces a smile. “It’s been too long, Allie.”
“It has.” I agree out loud, but inside, I’m vehemently disagreeing. It hasn’t been long enough. “How are you?”
She studies my appearance, her beady eyes drinking in my disheveled clothing and wild-looking hair. After all, I basically swept the hospital floor with my ponytail when I fainted, and I haven’t had time to shower since this morning. Thanks to my father holding me hostage for my mother’s tea date this afternoon.
“Oh, you know,” she says eventually, dismissing me with a flick of her fingers. “I’m ever so busy. Just last week I flew to Paris for a conference, and no sooner did I return than the Russians wanted an in-person update from the research team, so...” She sighs heavily. “I jetted off to Moscow for twenty-four hours. Needless to say, my work here has been left in shambles.”
“Now, dear, don’t exaggerate.” William Darcy smiles at his wife, preening as his eyes skim over her svelte form. The sharp white suit she’s wearing probably costs more than a month’s worth of my salary. “Her work is a ravishing success. In fact, she’s receiving one of the mo
st prestigious awards in the industry in a few weeks.”
“Congratulations,” my dad murmurs as my mother raises her eyebrows and gives her own fake smile back. “That’s incredible. William, you’re a very lucky man.”
William Darcy leans back in his chair and barks a laugh while his wife pretends not to hear. Meanwhile, I struggle not to roll my eyes. All of this—the afternoon high tea, the awards, the travel dossier—it makes no sense to me. But the posturing is as much a part of their lives as breathing. It’s as if they can’t turn it off, this parading around of accomplishments.
My father is the only exception at this table. He’s the only non-doctor, aside from me. My mother is a neurology specialist while both of Jack’s parents are researchers at the top of their respective medical fields.
“How is your work, Franklin?” William asks. “Keeping the kids in shape these days?”
My dad goes by Frank. The only people to ever call him Franklin are Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Somehow, the pair seem to think that my dad’s choice in career as a law professor at one of the state’s most esteemed universities is subpar. As if he’s an underachiever of some sort, which is laughable. I can only imagine what they think of my choice in career.
“It’s fine,” he says. “Going very well, thanks for asking.”
“What are you working on?” Mrs. Darcy presses. “Are you a part of the new legislation about equality in the workforce for women?”
My dad frowns. “No, I’m focused on teaching.”
“A mighty job,” Mr. Darcy roars, looking pleased as he slings his arm around his wife’s chair. “Somebody’s gotta teach the next wave of ambulance chasers. Isn’t that right, Franklin?”
Kathleen Darcy exhales sharply, as if my father’s answer is a personal attack on her. “It’s very important, Franklin. Women in the workforce—”
“I know it’s important, Kathy,” my dad interrupts. “I have a daughter in the workforce, after all. I want nothing more than equal rights for her.”
“Yes, but...” Kathleen glances over at me once more, her eyes flicking to a strand of hair that’s come loose beside my face. Then, in a whisper that’s loud enough for everyone to hear, she murmurs to my parents. “Can we really call Allie’s job a career? She wipes children’s noses for a living.”
“Actually, that’s not what I do—” I start, before deciding the breath isn’t worth the argument. I’ve explained what a kindergarten teacher does too many times to count, and it just doesn’t sink into the Darcy’s minds. Maybe their IQ’s are too high. “You’re right,” I say, heavy on the sarcasm. “Teaching the youth of our nation is not important.”
“Oh, Allie, of course that’s not what my wife meant,” Mr. Darcy says. “She’s just saying that as a career, there’s not much room for advancement.”
“That’s also not true,” I murmur, and then stop, reminding myself to spare the air.
My mother has a look of murder on her face, so I shut up for good. I decide that reaching for a macaron and shoving it in my mouth is a much better way to spend my next few minutes on this earth. I don’t care what the Darcy’s think of me, but my mother sure does.
“Allie’s got a lot going for her. She’s relatively young, quite attractive,” Kathleen begins. “William, can you think of any men in the club that are looking for an engagement?”
I hold up my half-eaten macaron. “Excuse me?”
“The club is an excellent place to find a husband,” William says with a beaming smile. “You’ll make some man very happy, and he’ll be able to provide for you. We have lots of families with excellent breeding at the club.”
“What are they, dogs?” I blurt out. My mother doesn’t look pleased at this, but I don’t much care. I hold my tongue around the Darcy Duo plenty for her. There’s a reason why Jack and I stay as far away from our parents as possible. “I’m not interested in, uh, breeding, or engaging in anything.”
Kathleen winks at my mother. “I thought the same thing, too, at her age. And then I met William.”
My mother diverts the conversation with a story about how she met my father. Meanwhile, I focus on mashing a finger sandwich to bits on my plate. My father watches in amusement, and it’s only when my mother shakes her head at me that I toss a napkin over it.
This is the reason that Jack and I bonded. Our mutual dislike of this lifestyle. Spending time with our parental units is always the same. The Darcys want to show off their highfalutin careers, while my mother is desperate to keep up with the Darcys.
My dad is like me. He’s a little better at keeping his mouth shut than I am, but only because he’s had years more practice. He and I tend to look at these events much like we’d watch a circus.
Enter Jack Darcy. He’s five years older than me, so I can say I’ve known him since the day I was born. We grew up together and mutually decided we wanted to be polar opposites of our parents. It became our quest, our mission, to have normal lives and fulfilling careers. It’s only the bonds of family that keep us tied to these social obligations.
By the time my mother has wrapped up her story, I’ve worked myself into a bit of a grumpy mood. I’m feeling disgruntled about everything: not only does everyone think I have a dud of a career, but they think I need a husband to fix things. The kicker is that while I love my career, I wouldn’t mind a relationship—and I’m failing at that, too.
“You know, getting married isn’t everything,” I say, as my mother finishes her story. “I’m happy with my career. I’m happy being single.”
“Nobody said you weren’t happy,” William soothes, ever the peacemaker. “We just want what’s best for you, Allie. We’ve known you since the day you were born. We’re like family.”
“We’d do the same for our own son,” Kathleen says with a nod. “We want what’s best for the both of you. After all, the two of you are like siblings.”
I wrinkle my nose, thinking it feels odd to hear Jack’s mom talk about us being as close as brother and sister. At least, it’s odd after the thoughts I was having about Jack and his very dazzling abdomen this morning. “Sorry.”
“We can ask around at the club.” William looks over my head to my father, as if he’s arranging a business deal. “What do you say, Franklin?”
“I think Allie is capable of finding someone for herself,” my father says with a sardonic smile. “If she so chooses.”
“If she chooses?” My mother glares pointedly at me. “Of course she’ll choose someone. She can’t live the rest of her life on a teacher’s salary!”
“Dad’s a teacher!” I say, balling my napkin into my hands. “I mean, a really ritzy sort of teacher, but still. I do just fine for myself. I like my life.”
“Honey, you live in a one-bedroom apartment with yellow walls.”
“So what, mom? I’m happy there.”
“If Allie’s happy, I vote we let her live her life and stay happy. Isn’t that what parents want for their children?” my father asks with a wink in my direction. “How is Jack doing, by the way? Just as handsome as always?”
Yep, I respond automatically in my mind. Just as handsome as always, not that anyone in this room cares about my opinion. I opt to sit back and get my fill of finger sandwiches. The Darcy family is paying, and it’s my small way of rebelling.
“Jack is doing well,” Mrs. Darcy says. “I have a feeling doors will be opening for him in the research field soon.”
“Research?” I blurt out. “But he likes the hospital work.” I tried to stay out of this, but defending Jack comes naturally to me. We’ve always had each other’s backs. “He got into medicine to save lives, not work in a lab.” At my mother’s horrified look, I quickly add, “His words, not mine.”
“That’s our boy,” William says with a good-natured grimace. “Stubborn. Just like his old man, I suppose. No matter; he’ll find a wife soon, and she’ll whip him into shape, just like Kathleen did for me. As a matter of fact, we have the perfect date selected for him.”
; “What are you talking about?” I mumble around a mouthful of sandwich. “A date for what?”
“Well, as I mentioned, my wife is receiving an award, and we expect Jack to come to the gala in support of her. Of course, he’ll need an appropriate companion for such an evening.”
“Naturally,” I drawl, and my father bows his head to hide a smile.
Underneath the table, I see my mother’s foot snake out and stomp on my father’s toe. All may look perfect on the outside at Casa Jenkins, but underneath the surface, we’re a mess. If the Darcy’s only knew the truth, they might not invite us to their precious club any longer.
“And who is this woman?” I follow up, once I’ve swallowed my food. “Does Jack know about her?”
“He will,” Mr. Darcy says. “In fact, I think both of you know her. Sandra Swank?”
“You’re setting Jack up with Sandra?” I gawk at the pair of them. Sandra Swank was a fancy pants witch who’d asked Jack to prom. “Why? It didn’t work last time you did that. Sandra spent the whole night making out with Billy Friedman.”
“They were children last time and didn’t know any better,” Kathleen says. “Sandra made a mistake. This isn’t prom, this is part of an adult engagement.”
“You are throwing engagement around a hell of a lot,” I say, and earn a dagger-filled glare from my mother. “Have you really not considered letting us live our own lives?” I look around, mystified. “Jack is a doctor for crying out loud. He’s got his shit figured out. He doesn’t need you setting up his life.”
“It’s more like we’re helping along the courting process,” Kathleen says, her voice quiet and sharp. The tone it takes on when she’s getting her way no matter what anyone says next. “He’s old enough to find a wife.”
“I know. I’m helping him.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m helping him,” I say. “I thought of setting him up with a woman at the hospital, so I’ve been coaching him on how to have a great date.”
Nobody at the table looks amused, including my father.