First Impressions: A Contemporary Retelling of Pride and Prejudice

by Debra White Smith

  “Yes, sir,” the pair said in unison as they stepped aside.

  He looked up at the twins—identical except Klynell had green eyes. Larnell’s were nearly as black as night. Both men were every bit as intimidating as Dave remembered. They were also every bit as respectful. Funny thing, they always insisted on calling him sir—even before he hired them. They could have squashed Dave with a flick of their wrists. Instead, they chose to venerate him as the benefactor who helped them get an education.

  While Dave stood six feet, the hulking men towered over him by half a foot. Their dark-skinned arms rippled with enough brawn to take down half a dozen men each. Dave had been thrilled when the two of them walked out of their house, dressed in tank tops and gym shorts. Not one muscle was hidden.

  He smiled at the Deadly Duo and gave them the thumbs-up sign. “Remember, we aren’t here to be polite,” he said.

  Klynell nodded. Larnell’s white teeth flashed against his shiny skin, the color of rich coffee. “We’ll take care of everything, just like you said, Mr. Davidson,” he said, his thick lips firm.

  “Just call me Dave, okay?” He doubled his fists and held them up. Both young men knocked their fists against his as if they were beginning a championship game. Dave pressed the bell again.

  The doorknob rattled, and Dave prepared himself for the confrontation. The door swung inward. Eddi’s sister, dressed in a policeman’s shirt and a pair of leggings, stood on the other side. She looked at Dave as if she recognized him but couldn’t quite remember where she’d seen him.

  “Linda!” Dave said. “I wasn’t expecting you.” But it might be for the best, he thought. “Is Rick here?”

  “Yes, he’s—”

  “Who is it, babe?” Rick’s drowsy voice floated from close behind. He appeared in the doorway, his eyes droopy and bloodshot.

  He stiffened and glared at Dave. “What are you doing here?” Rick demanded.

  Dave crooked his finger toward the Deadly Duo and pushed against the door. “Excuse me, Linda,” he said.

  She gasped and scooted back.

  “Hey, you can’t just barge in like—” Rick looked behind Dave. His eyes widened. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  Larnell and Klynell, their faces impassive, moved to either side of Rick. Dave closed the door and turned the deadbolt with an ominous click. Offering a humorless smile, he observed Rick, who glanced from one hulk to the other and back again.

  This couldn’t be better if we’d rehearsed it, Dave thought.

  He eyed the apartment and was glad to note no signs of extra money, no hint of opulence gained from drug dealing. The place appeared to be a typical bachelor flat, replete with worn plaid sofa and love seat along with a big-screen TV blaring the latest preseason football game. A bowl of popcorn and the smell of butter rounded off the whole cozy scene.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Dave Davidson?” Rick’s voice wobbled out in a pathetic quake.

  “Well,” Dave purred, “I came to chat with you. But since Linda’s here, I believe I’d like to chat with her, first.” He offered a reassuring smile toward Eddi’s sister.

  She licked her lips and backed toward the kitchen.

  “No need to be afraid,” Dave said. “I’m here to help.” He tilted his head. “You can think of me as your . . . summer Santa, if you will.”

  Klynell and Larnell both laughed. The rhythm of their mirth took on a nefarious nuance as they each laid a hand on Rick’s shoulders.

  “Call the police, Linda.” Rick commanded.

  She lunged for the kitchen, and Dave grabbed her arm. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Rick,” Dave said. “Not unless you want me to inform them about the marijuana you probably have.” He narrowed his eyes and watched Rick, whose face drained of all color. Dave smiled again. His hunch had proven correct. Linda struggled against his hold and began to whimper.

  “Let go of her!” Rick demanded and jumped forward.

  Dave looked at the Deadly Duo. “I think your new friend needs a trip to the little boy’s room,” he said and pointed toward the room’s far doorway. “It’s probably that way. Keep him in there until I come for him. Okay?”

  “Right, boss,” Klynell said.

  “Rick!” Linda cried. She stumbled back and bumped into the wall. Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked at Dave as if she expected the worst.

  “I’m pregnant,” she pleaded. “Please don’t—”

  “Linda!” Rick hollered again as the twins dragged him into the hallway. “Dave, if you hurt her, I’ll—”

  “When have I ever hurt anybody, Rick?” Dave mocked. “I believe that’s your usual role, isn’t it?”

  He turned back to Linda, released her arm, and held up his hands, palms facing her. “Linda, I’m not here to hurt you, honey,” he said softly. “I’m good friends with your sister, Eddi. I already knew you were pregnant. That’s the reason I’m here.”

  “You know Eddi?” Linda asked and her agitated breathing slowed.

  “Yes. You and I briefly met at a play practice in London, remember? I’m the guy who’s playing Darcy.” Dave infused his words with a British accent.

  “Oh!” Linda nodded. “I remember you.” She appeared to wilt against the wall. “What are you doing here?” she asked and glanced toward the hallway.

  “I came because Eddi went to the altar this morning in church.”

  “Oh,” Linda answered, her blue eyes blank.

  “She was crying,” Dave explained. “I figure you know as well as I do that Eddi’s not the crying sort.”

  “Uh-huh,” Linda agreed.

  “I went down and knelt beside her. She was praying for you, Linda,” Dave explained.

  “For me?”

  “Yes. She said you were pregnant and planning an abortion.”

  Linda looked down. A Gatorade advertisement burst from the television. She walked toward the large TV and pressed a button. The screen went black. Silence claimed the room—a silence broken only by the refrigerator’s faint hum. Linda moved toward the sofa, pushed aside a woven throw, and settled onto the couch’s edge.

  “I guess Jenny told Eddi,” she mumbled.

  Dave nodded. “She said Jenny called on her cell right before she walked into church this morning.”

  “She didn’t waste any time, did she?” Linda’s lower lip protruded in that barracuda line Eddi often displayed. “I must have just hung up with Jenny when she called Eddi. I told her not to tell anyone.” Linda pressed her fist against the couch’s arm.

  A series of rumbles and bumps echoed from the hallway. Rick’s muffled holler followed, “Linda!”

  “She’s fine!” Dave bellowed, never taking his attention from Linda.

  “Everything’s okay,” Linda called.

  “I think you should count yourself lucky.” Dave walked toward the love seat and sat down. “You have two sisters who care enough about you to agree to pray for you.”

  “It’s my life and my choice.” Linda lifted her chin. Dave would have vowed she was closer to fifteen than twenty.

  “I can’t say I agree with abortion,” Dave said, “but I’ve got enough sense to know I can’t stop you . . . if that’s what you really want.”

  “It is,” she defended, yet her lips trembled.

  “Is it what you want or what Rick has talked you into?” Dave asked.

  Linda averted her face and picked at the throw.

  “What do you really want, Linda?” Dave asked. “Just tell me. I’ll even help you find a home for the baby if you’d like to place it for adoption. I’ve got contacts all over the U.S. I’m sure we could find—”

  “No!” Linda riveted her attention on Dave. “If I have it, I’m keeping it. I couldn’t stand to release it for adoption.”

  “But you can bear to end its life?” Dave asked and felt as if he might be winning this battle much easier than he’d anticipated.

  “That’s different,” Linda said. “I won’t ever get to see
the baby that way. But if I ever saw it—”

  “God sees it,” Dave said.

  She looked down and kneaded the throw. “I know.” The words were barely audible.

  “So . . . let’s just pretend I really am your summer Santa . . .” Dave said, infusing every word with kindness and hope, “ . . . what would be your very first choice in all this?”

  Linda observed Dave as if he were a fairy she’d stopped believing in years ago, and now she’d discovered he really did exist. “Are you saying you’ll make it happen?” she asked.

  “I’m saying I’ll make it happen,” Dave affirmed.

  “Okay, then.” Linda looked into Dave’s soul. “If you really think you could make it happen then . . . what I wanted to do at first was, well,” she shrugged, “you know, get married.”

  “That’s exactly what I figured,” Dave asserted.

  “Rick says that’s old-fashioned,” Linda said with a sad smile.

  Dave stood. “It’s called doing the decent thing,” he growled. “Back in the good ol’ days there was a thing called a shotgun wedding. Ever heard of it?” he asked.

  “Uh, no,” Linda said.

  “It’s where the father of the bride makes sure his daughter’s honor is defended when the cad who got her pregnant takes responsibility for what he’s done and marries her!” Dave stomped toward the hallway. “In case you’re wondering about those two black, beautiful hulks I brought in with me . . .” he paused at the doorway and turned back toward Linda, “they’re my shotguns.”

  Linda looked at Dave as if he really were her fairy. “You mean you’re going to—”

  “I’m going to make Rick Wallace do what’s right, and I’m going to make sure he treats you like a queen.”

  “But wh–why?” Linda gasped. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Because I know your sister,” Dave said and marched down the short hallway. And I love your sister, he added to himself.

  Dave paused outside the closed door he assumed was the bathroom. He tapped on the wooden panel. “It’s me,” he said.

  The door opened and Klynell smiled down at him. “We kept him here, just like you said, boss,” he said.

  “Good.” With a villainous grin, Dave entered the cramped bathroom and closed the door.

  Larnell towered over Rick, who huddled in the corner by the shower stall as if he feared decapitation. Too bad that’s illegal, Dave thought. He crossed his arms.

  “From what I understand, Mr. Wallace,” he began in a deceptively calm voice, “you have a child on the way.”

  “Who told you—”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Dave interrupted. “The thing that matters is that I care.” He stepped toward Rick and motioned for the Deadly Duo to move in, as well. “I’m tired of watching you refuse to take responsibility for your actions. And,” Dave examined his fingernails, “I’ve decided it’s time for you to grow up.”

  “Listen, you!” Rick lunged forward.

  Klynell barred him with one beefy arm.

  “You have a choice here,” Dave said and never blinked. “You can either marry the woman who’s carrying your child, stop the marijuana smoking, and start going to church like you promised our grandfather you would, or I’m going to hire a private eye and find out stuff about you you’d rather your police chief didn’t know.” Dave grabbed Rick’s collar and leaned within inches of his face. As he calculated, Rick’s breath was laced with alcohol. “Take your choice,” he snarled.

  Rick looked at Dave as if he were a monster he’d stopped believing in years ago—and now discovered the monster really did exist.

  “I . . . I . . .” he hedged.

  Dave released his shirt.

  “I guess we—we could get married,” Rick stuttered. “It’s not like I don’t have any feelings for her. It’s just that—”

  “Now you’re talking.” Dave stroked the side of Rick’s face. “Somehow, I knew you and I would come to an agreement.” He backed away. “To make sure you do what you’ve promised, I’ve arranged for my friends here . . .” he slowly appraised the Deadly Duo, “ . . . to keep an eye on you. They’ll be sleeping in your living room for a few days. Then they’re moving into the apartment across the hall from you.”

  “But that place isn’t empty,” Rick argued.

  “It will be as of Wednesday.” Dave assured. “I offered a financial incentive to the manager and the current tenants for them to move to another apartment in the complex. Congratulations,” he cooed, “for the next few years, you won’t be able to sneeze without my knowing about it.” He patted Rick’s face again.

  “B-but this is like prison!” Rick croaked.

  “Oh no,” Dave said, “this is a piece of cake compared to prison. Believe me, Klynell and Larnell are perfect gentlemen . . . when they want to be.”

  The twins smiled on cue. Dave reminded himself to reward them with a bonus.

  “Guys,” he continued, “your first assignment is to go through every drawer and crevice in this apartment. Any drugs you come across—flush them.”

  Rick released an oath.

  “If you find any hard drugs, I want to know about it.” Dave jabbed his index finger against his chest.

  Rick’s face contorted, and a vein bulged in his neck. “I tried to tell you when George died,” he hollered, “I don’t do hard drugs, and I never have.”

  “If there’s any sign of drug dealing,” Dave continued as if Rick had never spoken, “let me know.”

  “I don’t deal drugs!” Rick screamed, his dark eyes emphatic and desperately honest.

  For the first time in years, Dave believed him. “Okay,” he said.

  “Why won’t you believe me?” Rick demanded. “I told you when George died I didn’t have anything to do with his going off into hard drugs. I’ve never done anything but smoke some pot—that’s it!” Rick lifted his hands. “I did give some pot to George! I’ll admit it. There!” He flipped his wrist as if he were tossing information between them. “When he started wanting the harder stuff, I told him he’d have to get it elsewhere. All I ever gave him was marijuana because that’s all I’ve ever done.”

  “It’s still illegal,” Dave insisted and felt as if a chunk of ice in the center of his soul was beginning to thaw.

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” Rick said.

  Dave narrowed his right eye as a supposition turned to certainty. “Could you quit if you wanted to?” he asked.

  Rick’s gaze faltered. “I don’t know. I’ve gone stretches without it before—long enough for my urine to be clean for drug screening tests at work.”

  “Maybe you need some help quitting altogether, then,” Dave offered, and for the first time since George’s corruption he experienced compassion for Rick Wallace.

  “What are you suggesting?” Rick asked.

  “There are all sorts of drug rehab programs,” Dave said. “If you’re addicted to marijuana, I could arrange for you to get involved in a program. My ministry would take care of expenses.”

  “Why would you do that?” Rick asked.

  “Because you’re going to be a daddy soon. You need to be straight.”

  “But what about my job?” Rick asked.

  “Nobody on your job needs to know,” Dave responded. “We can keep it all as discreet as possible.”

  Rick produced a barely discernible nod. About the time Dave thought he was going to fully cooperate, he lifted his chin with a little too much cocky assurance to suit Dave.

  “I’ll think about it,” Rick said as if the choice were his.

  Dave’s fists clenched. Even though he might be working through some of his attitudes toward Rick, that didn’t mean the guy had completed any form of metamorphosis. Until he did, Rick still needed to understand he’d never be allowed to con Dave again.

  “Put him in the shower, guys,” he ordered.

  Rick sputtered and struggled against Klynell and Larnell as they stuffed him into the stall. A shampoo bottle toppled off t
he ledge and rattled to a stop against the fiberglass tub.

  “One thing you’ll learn about these fellows,” Dave said as he leaned into the stall, “is that they don’t take ‘no’ or ‘I’ll think about it’ for an answer. The four of us will get along sooo much better if you understand that from the start of this little operation.”

  Dave hesitated before following the impulse to turn on the cold water. Rick’s rebellious glare provided the catalyst for him to act out the urge. “Time to cool off, lover boy,” he drawled and then twisted the water knob. Dave slammed the shower door in unison with Rick’s howling protest.

  Thirty

  Eddi stood outside her townhouse, watering her potted plants that hung from an iron holder. Her parents and Jenny were scheduled to arrive in an hour, and Eddi wanted every element of this visit to shine—especially for Jenny. She had invited Calvin over for dinner so he could get better acquainted with her parents.

  According to Jenny, she and Calvin had been on the phone every day since he emailed her asking for permission to call. Eddi and he had repeatedly chatted during play practices about the progress of his relationship with Jenny. Given his comments and Jenny’s, Eddi was beginning to suspect that Calvin would be her brother-in-law by this time next year.

  She moved the water hose to the next hanging fern and waited while the basket filled with water. The smells of soil and running water accompanied the swish and whir of traffic along London’s main highway.

  Eddi’s mind wandered to Dave, as it had been so apt to do the last few days. After their hurried conversation at the altar two weeks ago, he and Eddi had exchanged only the words necessary for the furtherance of the play. Dave had arrived at the last few play practices without so much as a glance her way. When he didn’t even inquire about Linda, she convinced herself he was determined not to associate with the likes of her family. She was at last certain that her family issues plus the tongue-lashing to which she subjected him had annihilated all hopes of their ever developing a relationship. From that understanding, Eddi purposed to never give Dave reason to suspect her growing feelings for him. She didn’t think she could endure his categorizing her as just another woman who’d chased him.