First Impressions: A Contemporary Retelling of Pride and Prejudice

by Debra White Smith

  As things turned out, George and my aunt didn’t get along. I think Aunt Maddy meant well, but she smothered him. One night they had an awful argument, and George ran away. After a week of us pulling our hair out with worry, George called me. He was at Rick’s apartment. Believe it or not, I was relieved. Even though I knew Rick hadn’t been a model citizen, I was glad George was with somebody I knew and that he was alive. I tried to get George to move in with me, but he wouldn’t. I think he was still mad at me for leaving him, actually. Rick even smooth-talked me into believing he was in church and would be a good influence on George. I was gullible enough and stupid enough to believe he had taken a turn for the better.

  To make a long story short, Eddi, the next time I saw my brother he was high on drugs. I won’t bore you with the details, but essentially Rick Wallace proved that he hadn’t changed a bit. I eventually suspected that he was the one who taught George the “glories” of marijuana, and I’ll go to my grave believing he did it just to spite me. George liked it so much, he started doing harder drugs.

  Eventually, George moved out on his own, and I suspect he was even dealing drugs. No matter how hard I tried to pull him back, George wouldn’t budge. Three years ago, Rick called one day to say a fellow police officer found George in a hotel room in Houston. He overdosed on cocaine and was dead.

  “Oh my word,” Eddi whispered. She pushed away from the computer, rested her head on the back of the chair, and gazed at the ceiling.

  The gold specks blurred together as she recalled taunting Dave about his brother the night Mrs. DeBloom assigned roles. Eddi asked him if his brother jumped to Mrs. DeBloom’s every command as he did. Dave had simply replied, “No, never.” He had also told her his brother was outside Dallas, not the he lived outside Dallas. Eddi remembered Dave acting a little awkward. At the time, she had assumed he was just being distant and difficult.

  A queasy knot formed in her stomach. The Dr Pepper and coffee no longer proved a good mix.

  “How could I have been so cold?” she asked. But I didn’t know, Eddi reasoned. I would have never said what I did if I’d known.

  A new realization dashed aside her mortification. Eddi sat straight up. She gripped the chair’s arms and stared ahead. Feeling as if she’d seen a grotesque specter, Eddi remained rigid. One thought rotated through her mind: I paid for Rick to go to Hawaii with my sister!

  Eddi imagined her little sister high, or worse . . . dead. A slow fire started in her belly. Eddi glared at the wall holding her framed degrees. Not only had she been fooled, she had been manipulated.

  Her head began to ache, and she wondered if Linda were a vital part of the whole manipulation. “Probably,” Eddi decided and mused that Rick might have met his match.

  She glanced at the computer. The rest of the letter still remained unread. Propelled by an unquenchable urge, Eddi leaned forward, found the last line she’d read, and started digesting the rest of Dave’s story.

  Frankly, I wasn’t the most gracious recipient when Rick called about George’s death. I screamed at Rick and told him he was partly to blame because he introduced George to drugs. Rick denied everything and said I didn’t have proof. Really, I don’t have physical proof, but there are things in life you just know. Rick didn’t even bother to show up at George’s funeral. At the time, it made me furious. Now, I think he was probably too scared to be there.

  For a full year I blamed Rick for George’s death. Now that I’ve moved past some of the hard grieving, I can admit that George made his own choices. However, I cannot deny that Rick aided in his initial corruption.

  Frankly, I have been tempted these last few years to hire a private eye to see if I couldn’t take Rick down. I don’t believe for one second that he’s straight just because he’s now a police officer. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were dealing drugs himself. But part of me has wanted peace and wanted to put an end to the whole mess. Now that I’ve seen Rick again, I’m not certain I can live with myself if I don’t somehow make him take some responsibility for his actions. I’ll stop ranting on that subject here.

  My parents always said that God brings something good out of every tragedy. Well, He used George’s death to get my attention and draw me back to Him. From there, I have developed the ministry you were so curious to investigate. I imagine you were in my little building long enough to discover my secret. If nothing else validates my character, I believe my efforts in the last three years will.

  Dave

  Ministry? Eddi thought. She had been so distracted by Dave’s borderline proposal and her own anger that she had forgotten about the brochure. “I never forget stuff like that,” she mumbled. “I must be losing it.”

  She reached for her purse and fumbled past the cell phone. The blue brochure had slipped to the side, next to her wallet. Eddi grabbed the dog-eared brochure and read the caption: “Valley of Hope: Mentoring Troubled Boys to Manhood.” A photo of the dormlike structure on the table claimed the center of the front page. It stood at the base of a hill, surrounded by rolling pastures that suspiciously resembled an area near Dave’s home. The bottom read: “Demo brochure, #3.”

  The attractive promo piece highlighted future plans to build a dorm on Dave’s ranch. It also detailed Dave’s past outreach efforts—including sponsoring teens through drug rehab programs and creating a fund for families in search of lost teens. The last lines on the brochure’s back secured Eddi’s full remorse: “In loving memory of George A. Davidson.”

  She laid the brochure on the desk and accepted a belittling truth. Minutes ago, when reading Dave’s email, she had accused him of blindly believing her mother about Jenny’s engagement without asking for verification from her or Jenny. Yet she had done the same thing. Eddi blindly believed Rick Wallace without consulting Dave. She had suspected Dave of foul play in his little building, only to discover he was running a national ministry. She had believed he was heartless, only to learn he was dedicating his life to charity. She had accused him of being arrogant, only to realize he had dealt with more pain than Eddi could ever imagine. She had prided herself on respecting the poor as much as the wealthy, only to disrespect Dave because he was wealthy.

  “Oh, God, forgive me!” she breathed.

  Eddi propped her elbow on the chair’s arm and pressed her index finger and thumb against her eyes. She contemplated her uneventful life. Aside from having a less-than-functional family, Eddi could say that she was truly blessed. She had endured no tragic losses. Even all four of her grandparents were still living. Although she wasn’t her mother’s favorite child, her father doted on her. Her parents had paid her way through law school. She was realizing her dream now in building her own practice.

  If I had gone through half what Dave has gone through, I might be a little hard to get along with myself, she thought.

  She picked up the brochure and reexamined the back. Dave’s photo claimed the upper right corner. Eddi scrutinized his clean-cut image and recalled the picture of him with Laura Schock on the People magazine website. With a frown, she tried to blot that pink-sequined siren from her mind. The harder Eddi tried, the more troubled she became. There was no way she could ever make herself as drop-dead gorgeous as Laura.

  She stroked Dave’s photo and relived the day of the tornado. She remembered what it felt like to be sheltered in his arms. And his gentle touch when he had wiped away her tears . . .

  With sinking spirits, Eddi doubted Dave would ever extend his offer again—especially not after last night’s insults. Oh well, she told herself, we probably wouldn’t have made it in a relationship anyway. But the words lacked conviction.

  Presently, all Eddi could hope was that maybe Jenny and Calvin’s situation could be repaired. She dropped the brochure back on the desk and turned to her computer. Eddi hit the Reply button to Dave’s email and debated for several seconds how to respond. Finally, the cryptic words came:

  Dave,

  Thanks for taking the time for your explanation. Just so you and Calvi
n know, Jenny is not, nor has she ever been, engaged—or married, for that matter. My mother can be presumptuous at times, for lack of a better word. My sister had been seeing a man named Hal Gomez for about a year. While Hal was hinting about marriage, Jenny had never committed. She recently broke up with him because of Calvin. There’s an old saying, “Quiet water runs deep.” I think that best describes Jenny’s feelings for Calvin. I think most decent people would also agree that if a woman errs, it’s better to err on the side of being cautious in her behavior rather than too compulsive. Oh, and if my mother mentioned money, those are her thoughts, not Jenny’s.

  Eddi’s fingers hovered near the keys. She mulled over other possible commentary, including an apology for her eruption last night. But will he think I’m chasing him? she wondered. Dave had blatantly admitted that he wasn’t fond of women pursuing him. With a decisive nod, Eddi chose to never give Dave reason to add her name to the “Women Who Have Chased Me” list. She signed the email and hit Send.

  Twenty-Six

  Linda had never been so nauseated. Her forehead clammy, she collapsed by the toilet and wished for relief. None came. Her low moan floated along the marble-covered walls, the color of gunmetal. Her friends had insisted the group stay at the Hilton, right on the beach. Their balcony hovered over a turquoise sea surrounded by white sand. While the room was expensive, she and Rick had pooled their money and were managing to keep up the pace of her wealthy acquaintances . . . until yesterday.

  Yesterday morning, Linda awoke with a disturbing case of nausea. While everyone else lazed on the beach, she stayed in the hotel room. Rick insisted on remaining with her. At first Linda had been so moved by Rick’s consideration she was certain he must be falling in love with her. By noon, she questioned her assumptions. Despite her weakened state, Rick pressed her for physical favors until Linda relinquished.

  After a sound nap, she was vastly improved that evening and even enjoyed a night out with the gang. They’d taken a sunset cruise around the island and arrived back by midnight. Everyone else wanted to go to a club. Linda, feeling spent, had declined. Rick protested and told her she was welcome to go back to the room without him. Linda did exactly that. The last glimpse she had of him, he was laughing at something Hallie said. Hallie’s boyfriend looked as disgruntled as Linda felt. She had no idea what time Rick arrived back in the room.

  “I’m going to die,” Linda groaned. She stood up and grabbed a washcloth from the overhead rack, knelt, and crawled toward the bathtub. Linda twisted the faucet and dampened the cloth with cool water. She sponged her face and then rested her forehead against the cold tub. The smell of deodorant soap only increased her nausea.

  “Are you sick again?” Rick’s drowsy voice held an edge of accusation.

  Linda jumped. She looked up at him and didn’t try to hide her misery. “I feel like I’m going to barf.”

  “That’s what you said yesterday morning,” he complained while rubbing his bare chest. “I hope you aren’t going to give me a virus.”

  “Thanks for being so concerned,” she moaned.

  “Whatever,” Rick said. “Look, we’re in Hawaii. This is a gorgeous day. Last night after you left, everyone decided we’d go snorkeling today.” He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “I really don’t want to spend another day in the room.”

  “Of course not,” Linda snapped. “Why would you want to be cooped up with me when you could go snorkeling with Hallie?” Her stomach rolled, and Linda scrambled back to the toilet.

  She sensed Rick’s appraisal as she endured a dry heave. He didn’t offer a hint of consolation.

  “You look awful,” Rick finally said. “What is the matter with you, anyway? I thought you were going to be somebody fun on this trip. But now—”

  “I am somebody fun!” Linda defended with a wobbly voice. She wadded the tail of her satin nightshirt and looked up at him. With her on the floor, his lean physique appeared seven feet tall.

  “I got you a free trip to Hawaii, didn’t I?” she asked.

  “No, I got myself a free trip to Hawaii,” he claimed. “I was the one who talked to Eddi.”

  “And I was the one who told you what to say!” she wailed.

  Rick released a grunt and stomped from the bathroom. While silent tears trickled down Linda’s cheeks, she dabbed at them with the cloth. She hoped Rick didn’t remain with her the rest of today. Even though she hated the idea of his ogling Hallie, she didn’t want a repeat of yesterday, either.

  Silently, she arose, closed the door, and locked it. Linda lowered the toilet lid and sat atop it. She didn’t have to look at her appearance to see she was gray. She now understood what it meant to feel gray. Never had she endured a virus that made her so wretched.

  What if it’s not a virus? The thought invaded her mind and nearly made her collapse back to her knees. A moist flash of heat washed her face, and Linda stumbled toward her toiletry bag on the counter. She fumbled through the paraphernalia until she found the flat, pink disk. Linda examined the pills and counted six she’d missed this month. Frantically, she calculated the days since her last cycle and realized she was a week late.

  Slowly, she raised her gaze until she examined her reflection in the wall-to-wall mirror. Linda’s blue eyes, marred by dark circles, lacked sparkle. Her complexion had indeed faded to a sick gray hue. And her hair hung against her red nightshirt like a limp, matted mop.

  A light tap sounded from the door. “I’m going down for breakfast,” Rick said.

  “Fine,” Linda acknowledged and expected an offer for him to bring her something. A 7Up would have been nice. But all she heard was the sound of the room’s door opening and then clapping shut.

  “Thanks a lot,” she muttered but dismissed him as quickly as the door had closed.

  One of the good things about staying in expensive hotels was they offered shops for visitors. This particular Hilton even had a small drugstore. Linda had purchased a tube of toothpaste yesterday and noticed they had a wide array of toiletry essentials.

  Maybe they have a pregnancy test, she thought.

  Linda rinsed her face and ran a brush through her hair. She dragged herself from the bathroom and donned the shorts set she’d taken off last night. After slipping on her sandals, she got a bottle of ice water from the refrigerator. The cold liquid sliced into her stomach like a spike of ice through a heaving sea. She moaned again.

  Slipping from the room, Linda took the back elevator. The last thing she wanted was any of her friends to see her looking so bad. Linda hurried across plush carpet, through brass-trimmed doors, and around an indoor water fountain before slinking into the store. A quick perusal of the shelves proved the manager had thought of everything. Within five minutes, Linda was back in the hotel room, tearing into the test box.

  After getting a urine sample, she dipped the wand into the liquid, held her breath, and waited. The instructions said one pink line meant she was not pregnant. Two pink lines indicated she was. Linda watched in horror as two pink lines appeared in the test window.

  Her stomach churned anew. She dropped the test wand in the garbage and hung her head over the toilet. This time, the heave wasn’t dry. With a whimper, Linda cleaned up her mess. She downed more water, crept to the room’s window, and grasped the curtain rod. The palm trees, azure waters, and snow-white beach beckoned her to lose herself in their beauty. Linda closed the curtains.

  Welcoming the darkness, she collapsed onto the bed, curled into the fetal position, and closed her eyes. The smell of her perfume on the sheets sent a nauseous threat through her empty stomach.

  What am I going to do? she wailed to herself. I don’t want to be pregnant! Silent tears seeped through her lashes and plopped onto the sheets. With each drop, her dismay grew tenfold.

  Dad is going to be furious! she thought as if she were a fourteen-year-old. All her life, Linda had somehow managed to shift circumstances to her advantage—especially with her mother on her side. Now she had never felt
so alone, so without options. Linda grappled for a simple way out of this situation. Only one choice offered a discreet end to the predicament.

  Linda opened her eyes and peered into the shadows. While she never imagined needing an abortion, the possibility proved inviting. No one would ever know, she mused.

  No one but God. The haunting thought wouldn’t be denied. Linda tugged her knees closer to her chest and tried to erase the years she’d been taught the sanctity of human life. Even though she hadn’t attended church services for months, Linda couldn’t erase the guilt that plagued her soul with the very thought of ending a baby’s life.

  Another idea posed itself. Linda sat up and stacked a trio of pillows against the headboard. She leaned back and gazed across the darkened room cluttered with clothing.

  The notion involved Rick and her doing the honorable thing and getting married while they were away. At first, no one would suspect that Linda had gotten pregnant out of wedlock. Eventually, the child’s birthdate would indicate Rick and Linda’s sin. But since she would be married and on her own, no one would probably mention the discrepancy. She wagered that her family would be too excited over the new baby to unveil dissatisfaction with the child’s parents. Her nausea subsiding, Linda pulled the covers to her chin.

  By the time Rick entered the hotel room, Linda had convinced herself that he would feel the same way. When the door closed behind him, she turned on the lamp. He stepped into the room, looked toward the curtains, and eyed Linda with a familiar leer.

  “Are you feeling worse or just waiting on me to come back to the room?” he asked and crawled onto the bed. Lustfully appraising her, he stroked her arm.

  Linda eyed the brown eyes and dark hair she thought were so yummy mere days ago. Now his looks did little to move her. Instead, she stiffened and resented Rick’s wanting physical favors after his earlier behavior.