Over You (A Mr. Darcy Valentine's Romance Novel)

by H. M. Ward

  I pull out my phone to text Colin. I only say I need to talk with him. It pains me to ask him for money, but for Dad, for the sake of my family, I have to.

  * * *

  Later in the evening, I'm still in my chair in Dad’s hospital room, re-reading one of Gwen's novels on my phone. At Dad’s insistence, Mother went back to the apartment for a quick nap. I promised I’d call her if anything changed.

  “Beth! We’ve got great news,” Jane says as she and Mary rush into the room. “We just got back from hospital billing. They called us in to let us know the hospital has given us a grant large enough to cover all our hospital bills—including Dad's transplant! Well, after it comes.”

  “Are you serious?" Relief hits me like a two by four, and I let out a rush of air. The knots in my stomach untie and I sink back into the chair. "That’s great, but I don’t remember applying for a grant? I didn’t even know the hospital awarded grant money.”

  “That’s what I said,” Mary says as she walks briskly toward me, a smile on her face and a bounce in her step. I haven’t seen her happy in too long. No, it’s not happy—it’s hopeful.

  “What did they tell you about the grant?”

  Mary shrugs as she sits on the windowsill, looking down at the cars in the parking lot below. “They said the hospital gets donations from time to time. Bestowing a grant to a family in need is not unusual and can be done at their discretion.”

  Something doesn’t sound right. I have the worst luck in the world, followed by the rest of my family, so how’d we win the jackpot here? I feel my brow wrinkle and try not to sound ungrateful, but I have to know. “Why’d they choose us?”

  “Does it matter?" Jane's voice is sharp. She followed Mary inside and has been standing at the foot of Dad’s bed, arms folded around her middle as if cold, eyes narrow and careful. I’ve never seen her so defensive, so afraid. "As long as it’s helping Dad, who cares where it comes from.”

  Mary tries to hide her shock and turns back to the pane of glass, but I see her reflection—how her young face crumples in pain seeing her sister’s gentleness washed away in a matter of days. It was Jane’s trademark quality. Even while everyone else loses their shit, Jane is always sweet and gentle. To hear the bark in her voice stings.

  “I’m sorry," Jane says quickly, seeing our reaction. "I didn’t mean to...” Her voice trails off and her breath hitches.

  "It’s okay, Jane. You can’t repress awesomeness like that for decades and expect it not to slip out every now and again. Besides, I like this bold, new Jane.”

  “Me too,” Mary chimes in, following my lead. “The next time you see Cameron, you can rip him a new one.”

  Jane’s eyes well with tears at the mention of Cameron’s name. She still hasn’t heard from him. With all that’s happened with Dad, I'm no longer certain who she's crying for—probably both of them.

  Blinking back tears, she forces a smile to her face. “There’s more good news. The hospital placed Dad on the top of the transplant list this afternoon and they've already found a donor.” She beams at us, barely able to keep her smile contained to her face. It’s like Jane ate a spoonful of sunshine.

  “They did?” I push up from my slouch, hanging on her every word.

  Jane nods. “They’re going to do the transplant operation tomorrow morning. Dr. Wade will be by soon with more details. I’m not supposed to know. I sort of overheard it while I wasn’t eavesdropping on the nurses in the hallway.” She shoots us a sheepish smile.

  Mary laughs and drops a booted foot to the floor while draping her arm over the other knee, still half perched on the windowsill. “Jane, I’m supposed to be the badass punk in the family! Get your own MO.”

  “Do you think it’s true? I mean, it wasn’t speculation? Dad’s locked it?” I ask Jane.

  She nods. “It’s legit. I saw her typing it into the computer as the surgeon told her about it. The kidney is from an organ donor who died today in a wreck. It’s being flown here now.”

  I start shaking and cover my mouth with my hands. Tears form in my eyes and I laugh. “It’s over?”

  Jane walks over to me, arms spread wide, and nods. “It’s over. Everything is going to be all right.” She embraces me for a moment before I feel Mary plow into us. The three of us stay there for a moment, hugging, crying, and laughing the pain away.

  * * *

  I want to share the good news, so I pull out my phone to call Mother but see an unsent text from earlier. I thought I asked Colin to call me, but it’s still there, unsent. I frown, my brain falling down a rabbit hole of questions as I settle back into the chair.

  This morning, none of us were a match, and our only option was to wait for a miracle. By this evening, not only has Dad moved to the top of the transplant list, but they've also found a donor, and we've been awarded a grant to pay for it. Something feels fishy about this. My first suspicion would have been Colin—that he'd used Frey Oil money to save us—but he still doesn't know for sure that none of us are a match. I told him we were being tested to make sure there wasn’t an error previously.

  I look up at my sisters. "Not to sound like an ass, but… I'm relieved about the grant and the donor, and, of course, we'll accept help from wherever it's offered to save Dad, but…” I pause trying to figure out the best way to say it. “Haven't you guys wondered how this happened so quickly?"

  At my question, Mary looks at Jane and ducks her head. Jane’s eyes dart to the side and she turns away, rubbing the back of her neck.

  I slam my feet to the floor and practically jump out of the chair. "You know! OMG! How could you not tell me?”

  Jane rolls her shoulder and offers a smug look, while Mary smirks at me from behind those dark bangs.

  I’m on my feet, charging toward them. “Spill it! What else do you two know?"

  Mary jumps up next to Jane to try and ask something, but I don’t let her. “Tell me. Now.” From the way she’s acting, it’s got to be something awful. Like the grant money came from human trafficking or something.

  Mary swallows hard and tries to look at Jane. I step between them. “Mary?”

  She breaks. "Fine, we overheard some nurses talking about a massive donation. They said that the hospital received it earlier today from an unexpected source.”

  “Who?”

  Jane places her small hand on my shoulder, so I turn to look at her. Her eyes are kind again, careful as if this might hurt me.

  “The money came from the Darcy Foundation."

  I freeze in place as the world falls to my feet, crashing against the linoleum like a giant gong. My jaw hangs open and words fail me.

  Mary raises an eyebrow at my reaction. “Well, that caught your attention real quick.”

  She studies me as I try to play it off. “What else did they say?”

  “They were talking about a condition of the donation—that a portion of the money be used anonymously to pay the debts of a particular patient in full. If this patient weren't made an immediate priority, there would be no money at all. Apparently, the donation is build-a-new-wing huge, and the hospital administrators were more than willing to agree to get their hands on the larger gift.”

  “The patient?”

  Jane presses her lips lightly and replies. “Considering the timing, that patient has to be Dad." She pauses, thinking. "If it wasn't Darcy, who else do we know who could afford to do this for us? I don’t know any billionaires willing to stick their neck out for us other than Colin. Maybe Cameron, but he’s on my shitlist until he grows the balls to explain why he ran out on me.”

  “About Cameron," I begin, "it’s not entirely his fault—”

  “Beth, Jane, look! Dad’s waking up.” Mary calls out.

  I move to let them have time with Dad and tell him the good news. I don’t know how I’m going to explain all of this to Mary or Jane. They don't know how I feel about him, though I'm certain they suspect the truth. They also don't know Cameron planned on proposing, but Darcy talked him out of
it—and into breaking up with her instead. Maybe they’ll think Darcy donated the money to the hospital out of guilt. I don't think so. Something tells me it's more than that, especially since he did it anonymously. It was by chance we found out about it at all.

  I force myself to push all thoughts of Darcy aside. I’ll have time to think about all this later. Right now, it's time to focus on my family.

  CHAPTER 34

  “You know, Beth, I like that shade of green on you.” Colin points to the mud mask on my face. “It brings out the color of your eyes.”

  “Knock it off, Colin.” I dip my spoon into my cereal. “Some of us don’t have naturally perfect skin like you or Jane.”

  Jane smiles. “You’re so sweet, Beth.”

  “Sweet nothing. It’s the truth.” I watch Jane poke at her plate of fruit.

  Dad's surgery was a success, and he's getting stronger each day, but as life gets back to normal, Jane is finding it difficult to get over Cameron. Helping at Dad’s office only provides her a little bit of a distraction. As much as it pains me, I encourage her to help Mother and Mrs. Frey with wedding plans. Anything to keep her busy.

  Oddly enough, neither Jane nor Mary says much about me actually following through to marry a man I don’t love. They seem sad about it, but they don’t question me, tell me I’m crazy, or anything else. It’s like they understand why I’m doing it.

  I can’t let him go up in flames. I can’t let his family destroy him. I’m the only one who can stand between them, and I’m hoping that’s enough.

  It’s early in the morning and we’re all sitting around the breakfast table—even Colin, who has always been more comfortable with my family than I am.

  Only Colin and my mother are fully dressed, the rest of us enjoying breakfast in the clothes we slept in. Mary’s wearing boxers and a faded black Ramones concert t-shirt. Jane has pink curlers dangling from the ends of her hair and a matching frilly, nightshirt that pokes out from beneath a cotton candy colored robe. I'm wearing a tank top, pajama pants, and a bright green mud mask. It’s female central.

  “Colin, you must help me convince your mother to pick the table centerpieces first.” Mother dabs the corners of her mouth with a napkin as she finishes her brioche. “We can’t even think of the décor for the rest of the ballroom until we have the centerpieces selected.” We were all shocked when Mother agreed to help Mrs. Frey plan the wedding, even graciously accepting Mrs. Frey’s offer to foot the entire bill without protest.

  Mary slurps loudly, gulping the remaining milk from her bowl. “Mother’s right,” she says sarcastically, milk dripping from her chin onto the table. “It’s all about the centerpieces. No one gives a fuck about the bride anymore. That’s so 2015.” She waves a jaunty wrist and giggles.

  Colin stifles a laugh as Jane snorts fruit out her nostrils.

  “Mary! Mind your manners!” Mother frowns, scolding her youngest daughter. But it’s softened when she kisses Mary's forehead before grabbing a dishrag off the counter.

  Colin nibbles at a piece of rice bread with cinnamon sugar on it. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Bennet. I agree completely. You know, maybe I should call you Mother Bennet?”

  I try not to laugh, because it rolls right off the tongue and plummets like a stone to the floor. “What a lovely idea.” I put my elbows on the table and fold my fingers together, watching the conversation unfold.

  “I’d love that,” Mother beams. “I’m excited about the wedding. I’m so glad it’s coming so soon, and we don’t have to wait two years like most of New York insists on doing. Thank God your mother’s a Texan. An engagement lasting more than a month down there is half way to forever. Planning an event like this so quickly is a challenge, but I know we can do it. It’s been a rough few weeks for us, and we can certainly use some—dear, Lord!”

  There’s a loud flapping and a tiny gray object zooms through the kitchen. Mother ducks, screaming and waving the dishrag at the object.

  “Lucy! I told you to wait in our room!” Mary cries, scowling at the bird. “You’re so impatient.”

  The pigeon lands on the table. She tilts her head to the side watching Mother duck behind the counter in a panic. “A bird, Mary? You let a bird into the apartment?”

  “Mother, you’re overreacting,” Jane says as she gently strokes the pigeon’s head. “Sweet little Lucy wouldn’t hurt anyone. Would you, Lucy?”

  Mother’s eyes grow wide. “You named her after my mother!”

  Mary places her tattooed arms behind her head, locking her hands. “Yep. She looks like Grams, don’t you think? Tiny, plump, gray hair.”

  “I wouldn’t figure you to be the type to cage a bird in your room,” Colin says to Mary. He takes a big bite of his rice bread and mumbles, “Aren’t you more of a free-range, cage-free, it's-better-in-the-wild kind of activist?”

  “I don’t keep her caged.” Mary swipes a few of the crumbs falling from Colin’s plate and throws it to Lucy. “I tried letting her go. She keeps coming back. That’s not my fault.”

  “Mmm, these are delicious, Mother Bennet. Did you make this loaf?”

  “Thank you, Colin. Yes, I did,” Mother replies, popping up from behind the counter.

  I shake my head at Mother’s reply and whisper, “Bakery down the street.”

  “Stop feeding the bird!” Mother cries at Jane. “That’s why she keeps coming back.”

  “But she’s hungry.” Mary gives Mother a look that says of course we have to feed her. Who else will?

  The doorbell rings, and I push myself from the table, chuckling as Mary and Mother continue arguing. I can’t believe I actually missed this.

  “I’ll get it. It’s probably Sandra. She said she’d bring by the documents Dad wanted to see before she goes into the office this morning.”

  When I open the door, my mouth falls open in shock. Cameron and Darcy are standing in the foyer.

  I stop. My legs won’t move. William Darcy looks unbelievably sexy in a simple sports coat and jeans. Were his eyes always so incredibly blue? Coupled with the dark hair falling in his eyes, he’s breathtakingly beautiful. He’s smiling kindly, unguarded as if he thinks no one is watching. That’s when he glances up and his eyes lock with mine, my heart tries to skip over beats and trips, landing somewhere in my socks.

  Darcy blinks with surprise, and then his lips twitch slightly.

  My hands fly up to my mud mask. I let out a yelp, slamming the door closed in their faces.

  “Who was that?” Mother asks, visibly trying not to scold me for slamming the door.

  “It’s Cameron and Darcy.” I say his last name as if it’ll conjure a spell to keep him out of my heart. As if last names keep people distant and unloved.

  Do I love him? Where’d that come from? Panic settles in my stomach. Colin’s here. Darcy is here. And, dear God, what does Cameron want?

  “No.” Mother’s voice comes out in a shocked whisper. Jane turns greener than my mask.

  “Yes. I’m afraid so, Jane.” I’m going to puke. I keep my back to the door and press my palms against the cool wood.

  Mother gasps as her eyes bounce from me to Jane. “Everyone stay calm.”

  Calm? How can I stay calm? I just slammed the door in Darcy’s face. Eventually, someone is going to open it, and I’ll have to face him again. What will I say? Oops, my hand slipped?

  I’m as anxious as Jane looks.

  With her composure regained, Mother starts barking orders. “Jane, go change. Beth, you'll help her. Mary, take that…that…”

  “Lucy,” Mary says patiently.

  “Dear, Lord! Take Lucy to your room. I’ll bring Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy into the sitting room.”

  As I trail behind Jane to our room, I hear Mother say, “Colin would you mind helping me entertain?”

  When mother’s back is to me, I frantically shake my head at Colin. He can’t be alone with Darcy. “That’s a bad plan,” I mouth to my best friend.

  He ignores me. “Not at all, Mother Benne
t. I love entertaining men!” He sounds so flamboyantly gay that I wonder how she doesn’t know.

  “Colin!” I shoot a death stare at him, but he just smiles in return and goes into the sitting room.

  “Mother, don’t you think—”

  “Go help Jane and join us after you’re dressed.” She’s got rosy cheeks and a smile on her face that practically sings ‘double wedding.’

  After Mary forces Lucy back into her room, she joins Jane and me, watching us run frantically around the room as we dress. “I know why Jane’s freaking out, but what’s your excuse, Beth?”

  I wipe a wet towel over my face, rubbing off the remainder of the mud mask. I try to keep my voice steady, but the words come out way too fast. “I’m not freaking out. What makes you think I’m freaking out? They caught me off guard, that's all, and I’m excited for Jane. Cameron’s finally back. Can you believe it? Aren’t you excited? I’m excited.” I’m talking too fast.

  Mary raises an eyebrow. “Uh, huh. And your sounding like Alvin from The Chipmunks on a caffeine high and putting on that sexy red blouse has nothing to do with William Darcy sitting in our living room. Sure.”

  My face heats up and turns almost the same shade as my blouse. I go into the closet, reminding myself to breathe, and dig out a pair of dress slacks and matching heels. “No, not at all.”

  “Are you still concerned about what Grant told you about him?” Jane’s delicate features pinch with worry. “Maybe we should send them both away.”

  “No!” Mary and I yell in unison.

  “It’s not that,” I say, letting out a breath. I sink onto the bed next to her. “Jane, I was wrong about him. You were right. Darcy’s a very kind and thoughtful man.”

  Jane’s perfectly arched brows rise in surprise. “So what Grant told you wasn't true?”

  “No. That rat-bastard lied to me. A lot.” I frown, thinking about it. Sometimes it’s easier to believe pretty lies than ugly truth.

  “I was wrong about him, too,” Mary jumps in and then adds, “I'm certain he's the reason for everything at the hospital. If Darcy were the evil corporate puppet I thought he was, he wouldn't have taken the time to help people like us. We’re ants compared to him, but for some reason he saw we needed help and stepped up.”