The Best of Fools (Jane Austen Book 2)

by Marilyn Grey

  "Yeah, I don't know."

  "Don't doubt yourself," he said. "That's where failure begins."

  "Well, I'll try my best."

  He looked at his phone. "Ready?"

  I nodded and we gathered a few things for our overnight stay in the cottage, then got in his car. By the time he parked at our first destination, which was a surprise for me, it was already dark outside.

  "Is this a neighborhood?" I said as we got out of the car.

  "Yes." He took my hand. "Want to show you something."

  We walked down to the corner of the street.

  "This," he said, "is a park I used to play in when I was boy." He pointed across the street. "And down that way is the house I grew up in. Care to see it?"

  "Oh, I care all right."

  I followed his lead as our hands swung in the cold October air. I tightened my scarf as he pulled me closer and put his arm around me. We stopped in front of a little stone house with ivy climbing the sides.

  "This is it," he said. "And back there is a tree house with spiral stairs. When I was a kid and my parents would argue about this or that, I'd climb up there and fall asleep watching the stars. It was much more peaceful than the war inside the house."

  "I thought they parted on peaceful terms?"

  "They did, but they definitely had their moments." A light turned off in the house. "I've never shown a girl this house."

  "How many girls have there been exactly?"

  "One that matters."

  I smiled. "Good one."

  "We best be getting on. I have the key to the cottage, so we can check in whenever we'd like, but I have something there I want to show you."

  "So many surprises." I nodded toward the house. "Can I see the tree house?"

  "Oh, someone lives here. I don't know."

  "Come on." I pulled his hand as I walked into the grass.

  He pulled me back. "What if they see us? Last thing I want is for either of us to get in trouble for trespassing."

  "It's an adventure," I whispered. "Come on."

  He hesitated with each step, but eventually I got him to the backyard. Thankfully no motion detecter lights went off and it stayed dark enough to hide us. He wanted to show me and leave, but I insisted that we go up and see the inside. With major caution, constantly looking to the house and back to me, he climbed the steps behind me. The tree house was old, but I could tell it was beautiful in its prime. Spiral stairs leading up to the top. Tree branches spilling out of the enclosed house section. Miniature windows. It looked like a real wooden house that got stuck in a tree, but the inside was just a plain box tiny enough that he had to duck his head, but large enough that I still had an extra inch between the ceiling and mine.

  He sat down in the corner and spread his legs so I could sit between them. We cuddled there for a few minutes in silence, then he whispered, "It's a lot smaller than I remember."

  "What's this?" I pointed beside us.

  "Oh, I forgot about that." He touched the carving. "I carved Carpe Diem into this in Latin."

  "Is Carpe Diem something special to you?"

  "Just jump in. That's what it means to me. Tomorrow may not be what you expect, so jump in before it's too late."

  "Why did you write it as a kid?"

  "Have you seen Dead Poets Society? Is that what it's called?"

  "Of course. Classic line. I think it was even voted in the top movie quotes by the American Film Institute."

  "My parents were too consumed in their own issues to pay much attention to me. Even now we're a bit estranged. So I sort of retreated into myself for a few years and when I started middle school I fancied this girl and didn't have the courage to tell her, then a queer little bloke snatched her up for the school dance and I never had the chance again. After that I decided to stop holding back and try to jump in, even if it didn't come natural in the moment."

  "So it doesn't always come natural for you to seize the day?"

  "Does it for anyone?"

  "I guess not."

  "Like now. You." He kissed the top of my head. "Remember when we were walking out of the airport and I walked away from you?"

  "In the parking garage?"

  "Right. Well, I wanted to come back and ask if you would like to get a bite, but I couldn't do it. Then you stopped me on the side of the road and I was kidnapped."

  "Aren't you glad?"

  "So, then I came home and got the tattoo over my heart. Carpe Diem." He paused and the rustling tree branches filled the silence, then he cleared his throat and continued, "I wanted to have a permanent reminder to always take chances. Not pile up regrets."

  "I'm glad we found each other," I said, leaning my head back so my cheek touched his neck.

  He looked down at me, his eyes darkened by the night as he cradled my head. The moonlight hit his face in all the right places, glistening in the whites of his eyes and setting a blue glow on his face. He licked his lips and held his bottom lip in, then moved toward me so I could taste him.

  Our gentle kiss soon escalated into a passionate hair pulling embrace. Somehow I ended up straddling him as his hands moved from my hips, to my back, to my hips again. Then he stopped and stared at me with such gentle intensity that I wanted to melt right into him. My hair blew across my face and he pretended to snap a picture. I closed my eyes, willing my mind to store this one forever, vividly, so I'd always remember every detail about this moment. From the warmth of his lips against mine to the slightest sparkle in his eyes and the way it felt inside to be in love with him. Everything about him. And to be loved just as much in return.

  He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me like it was the last time he'd ever kiss me. His hands slowly moved down to my jacket as he unzipped it without taking his lips off of mine. Without thinking, I took off his jacket and tossed it to the side. Then he moved my shirt down my shoulder and kissed every inch of exposed skin.

  It was cold outside, but the treehouse was now filled with heat as our heavy breathing increased and our hands roamed every inch of each other. Part of me worried when he slowly pulled my shirt off, then gently lifted me and set my head on our jackets and shirts, but when he looked into my eyes I couldn't stop myself. Every part of me wanted to be with every part of him.

  The moonlight bathed the muscles on his arms and chest as he lowered himself on to me and kissed me all over. I held my palm over his heart, over the inked Carpe Diem, and when I glanced up at him I saw his hand against the Latin carving he etched into the wood when he was a boy.

  So many emotions flooded my heart. Deep affection. Curiosity. Intrigue. Passion. Excitement. Trust. Devotion. Attraction. Desire. Gratitude. Hope. Joy. Contentment. Love. I literally felt like I needed to open the floodgates and let it all pour out, but instead a single tear traveled down my cheek and into my hair while I whispered, "Alistair."

  He stopped, looked deep into my eyes, and whispered back, "I don't want to use words. Close your eyes and feel my love for you."

  I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around his back, and felt the profoundness of his love as he melted into me.

  Chapter 48

  Goodbyes are the worst. Time, thank you very much, did not cooperate. And before the weekend really had a chance to begin it was over. And it was painful to say goodbye to his sweet smile, knowing I wouldn't get to feel him for another few months.

  When I got home Sunday, almost at midnight, Donovan picked me up and pried for details during the entire ride home. I didn't tell him everything. I had no idea how far his relationship with Han went and I wasn't about to open that up for conversation. Which was strange. It was the first time I couldn't tell Donovan about one of the most beautiful experiences in my entire life.

  He parked in front of my apartment building, turned the car off, and of course, like his typical Donovan self, asked exactly what I didn't want to tell him.

  I shook my head. "There's no way I'm talking this stuff with you. Or Autumn for that matter. Some things need to stay private
."

  "You did, didn't you?" He smiled, thankfully. I thought maybe he'd be mad or upset. "If you didn't, you would've slapped my arm and told me not to be ridiculous."

  I slapped his arm. "Don't be ridiculous."

  "Do you think you'll marry him?"

  "Carpe Diem."

  "What's that mean?"

  "Who knows what tomorrow brings." I stared out the window and imagined the treehouse, the moonlight, his face. "I don't need a ring or a paper from the government to confirm what my heart already feels."

  "Which is?"

  "Which is ... half of me lives in a little flat on the corner of a quiet Bristol street."

  "Wow, Jazz." He leaned into the steering wheel and grinned. "I've never in my life seen you like this."

  I laughed. "You look like a kid who's got cotton candy dangling in front of him."

  "I'm happy for you." He glanced over his shoulder to the street, then back to me. "You finally let love in."

  "Miracles occasionally happen."

  "So now what?" he said.

  "What?"

  "What now?" he said.

  "I don't know. What about you and Han?"

  "Guess we'll take it one day at a time. She isn't as emotionally-driven as I am, so I'm just taking it slow to make sure she's comfortable."

  "You were right, by the way."

  "I always am." He smiled. "But why this time?"

  "You're such an arse." I picked up my bag and opened the car door. "It's definitely worth it."

  "Huh?"

  "Love." I grinned as I stepped out of the car. "It's more than worth it."

  Unfortunately, I was right back at 1812 the next morning. Bright and early. And I hadn't spoken to Alistair, although he did sent me a good morning message while I was still sleeping.

  Han and Brooke took care of the shop over the weekend and when Brooke walked in while I was drinking my coffee and hoping for the caffeine to kick in, she immediately said, "Jane. Did you see the sales?"

  "Sales?" I sipped my coffee. "I didn't look yet."

  "La la land," she said. "We sold a ton of clothes. Han sewed a bunch all weekend to keep up with sales. I helped in the evenings and we managed to make enough to restock the shelves."

  "Like how many?"

  "Over thirty. People are loving it more and more. Mostly men coming in and either getting stuff for themselves or their girlfriends and wives. It's really taking off."

  "All that over one weekend? Are you messing with me?"

  She handed me an envelope. "Cash sales are here. Credit card sales totaled $563.97 for the weekend."

  "That's good. Not amazing yet, but I guess it's working this time."

  "You're not as excited as I thought you'd be."

  "Oh, no, no. I am, trust me. Just exhausted from jet lag and lack of sleep."

  "How was your trip?"

  My mind went back to our late night in the cute thatched cottage. Waking up later than we intended and falling back asleep in each other's arms. I missed him already. Our memories were already starting to feel like dreams. And this ... the store, work, oceans, time zones ... this was reality.

  "Jane?" Brooke snapped her fingers in front of my eyes. "Earth to Jane."

  "Sorry." I shook my head and set my coffee on the counter. "What did you say?"

  "How was the trip?"

  "It was perfect. Too perfect. I hope I can handle being away from him until December."

  "Will he visit in December?"

  "Yeah. He's not super close with his family, so he wanted to come and spend it with mine."

  Speaking of Alistair, I hadn't heard from him since my last text two hours ago. I sent him another one, just a simple note to let him know I was thinking of him.

  Brooke disappeared in the back as I turned the sign to open and put the chalkboard out front, which now had black and yellow balloons tied to it. Cute touch. Probably Brooke's idea. If the clothing continued to sell I would definitely need to consider hiring more people, but now I wondered if securing myself here would be wise. What if I needed to move there to be with him? Could I take the store?

  I really didn't want to choose between the store and him. Of course I'd choose him, but I loved owning my own fashion line and I wanted to see where it would take me. Somehow maybe both could work out.

  Han entered from the back and gave me a hug, which I didn't expect, but gladly accepted. After normal greetings she went to the back to find Brooke. I watched her walk away, wondering if one day I'd consider her a sister of sorts. Autumn said Donovan and Han were like sugar and Alistair and I were spice.

  I kinda liked that.

  Maybe I was never the sweet girl to steal Don's heart, but I happened to run away with someone else's.

  Man, I missed him like crazy.

  "Time," I said while staring at that dreadful second hand. "Please be my friend and skip ahead to December."

  If only, right?

  Chapter 49

  Four weeks from my trip to England and it felt like five years. Three entire days passed without Alistair and I connecting on the phone or video and our messages were rare too. I missed him. He missed me. It didn't feel good. At all. So I rushed home Friday night to talk to him, but by the time I closed the store and got home he was asleep. I tried calling him with Skype, hoping maybe he'd answer the call in his sleep and I'd get to listen to him breathe, but he didn't.

  So I sent a quick message saying I was sorry and maybe we could talk tomorrow during the day. Saturday. Brooke and Han would both be at 1812 and I could probably sneak away to talk whenever he could.

  It took my forever to fall asleep that night and when I did my dreams were pure nightmares. I mean, the hellish of all hellish nightmares. There was a fire and Alistair was stuck in the house. I tried to go in and save him, but ended up flying out of a window and crashing to the ground. When I woke up from the dream with my entire body shaking, I eventually went back to sleep only to dream that he died in the fire and when they found his body he was naked with another girl.

  So, yeah ... I woke up wanting to stay awake and never sleep again.

  He didn't message me in the morning and I hated that it affected me so much. A few months ago I was tough Jane. Resilient-ish. Able to not fall in love and get my heart broken. Now I worried, maybe unrealistically, but I couldn't help it. My boyfriend lived in another freaking country and our conversations were getting more and more infrequent. When we did sneak in a conversation it was often so quick and rushed ... so not romantic. We should've been together. Passionately intertwined with each other. Waking up to a warm body on the bed beside us.

  My fears were coming to life and it made me become a person I didn't want to be. I was losing focus at work, tripping up the steps, stopping at streets that didn't have stop signs, eating way too much sugar, and going to bed much earlier than normal.

  Then he called.

  I rushed across my room and picked up the call.

  "Jane," he said. "I'm eating lunch. A short break from work here. I miss you."

  "Hey." It was only the beginning of the call, but I was already dreading the end.

  "Why so serious?"

  "You know why." I sighed. "This is horrible. It's only been a few weeks and things feel all weird."

  "I'll be there soon. Christmas is right around the corner. Hold on for me, okay? We can make it."

  "I can't do this, Alistair."

  He breathed into the phone, but didn't speak.

  "I need to see you or feel you or at the very least hear you. This is killing me."

  "It's killing me too, Jane." I could barely hear him.

  "I think your phone is breaking up or something. Maybe it's Skype?"

  "Jane?"

  "Hey. Are you there?" I said.

  Crackling, buzzing, and ... "Jane? Can you hear me?"

  "I'm here. Can you hear me?"

  Static, his voice, more static.

  "I can't hear you."

  Silence.

  I thr
ew my phone on my bed and stared at it. Then picked it up and checked to see if he messaged me. Not yet. I tossed it back to the pillow and took a shower, hoping the water would wash away the pain in my chest.

  Later that night I stopped by my parent's house. The front door was unlocked, so I went right in and found Mom at the kitchen table with a friend.

  "Jane." She jumped up, screeching her chair in the process. "I didn't expect you, honey."

  "It's fine. I wanted to stop by and see Eddie, check on you and Dad. Nothing major. No need to bake or make tea."

  "Jane?" her friend said, holding her cheeks in her hands. "Jane...."

  I looked at Mom, then back to the creepy lady. "Yes?"

  Mom came beside me and took my hand, sandwiching it between both of hers. "This is Julia. I didn't know you'd be here, but she planned to see you before she left."

  I blinked at the woman and found my eyes naturally gazing down her chest to her stomach. My original home. Images flashed. Nightmares of my conception, of her pain, of my birth.

  She didn't stand. She just sat there and she couldn't even look at me. Yes, he raped her. I wasn't making light of her painful experience at all, but she carried me inside of her, felt my feet in her ribs, and watched me take my first breath.

  "How could you let me go?" I said. "How could you just leave me like that?"

  "Jane." Mom touched my shoulder.

  "I wanted better for you than I could give," the stranger said as she stared at her knees.

  "But I'm your daughter. I know it's a messed up situation. Mom told me everything." That was awkward. "But still ... didn't you at least want to be in my life?"

  "It's ... you don't ..." She looked to Mom, then finally made eye contact with me. "I just—"

  "It's okay," Mom said, but it was too late. She was already running for the door. Mom almost went after her, but stayed with me instead.

  "It's painful for her, Jane," Mom said. "You shouldn't have said that."

  "Mom. Seriously? I was being honest. That's how I feel. I want to know."

  "Just imagine being in her shoes. She was severely abused by her father. Her own flesh and blood, only to be raped and left in the basement to bleed on the floor until I came and called the cops. Imagine when she found out that she was pregnant. She wanted an abortion, Jane. She begged me to tell her it was okay to abort you, but I told her I'd take care of the baby and she could worry about herself. Try to get back on her feet. I knew if she aborted you that she would feel even worse. But just think what it might feel like to stare at the child that was conceived when you lost your virginity to your father in a cold, dark basement." She stopped to hug me and stayed there with her head against mine. "I know it's hard for you, sweetie, but you need to see things from her perspective too."