Possibilities: A Contemporary Retelling of Persuasion

by Debra White Smith

  He imagined the blonde being strapped in a wheelchair, unable to move or feed herself for the rest of her life. Alone. Totally alone. Except for her parents. One day, they’d be gone. Then what? Her brother and sister-in-law hardly took care of their own children. How would they manage a quadriplegic?

  He thought of the flighty Helena. She was barely responsible enough to guard her own safety, let alone a paralyzed dependent’s. Frederick imagined her accidentally tipping Louise’s wheelchair down a massive flight of stairs. Then he saw himself pulling the wheelchair back to safety and keeping Louise from flopping down the steps.

  Wrapping his fingers around the cold bedrail, Frederick paused near Louise while Mrs. Grove touched her cheek. “Honey?” she crooned.

  Louise’s lids drifted open. She focused on Frederick and offered a weak smile. “Hi,” she whispered, her eyes dull.

  “Hi.” Frederick’s eyes stung, and the weight of responsibility would not be denied.

  “Oh, Louise,” Martha whimpered. “I’m right here. Mama’s right here,” she added as if Louise were three.

  Louise never acknowledged her mother. Her attention remained on Frederick. “Don’t leave me,” she begged. “I love you. We—we were going to get married. I just knew it.” Her face crumpled. “Please don’t leave me for her,” she cried.

  Martha fell silent. Frederick glimpsed her from the corner of his eyes. She’d traded tears for a gawk.

  His face stiffened.

  “Please say you’ll marry me like you promised.”

  “Louise, I . . .” Frederick shook his head and garbled out something that made no sense. How Louise could have ever convinced herself that he’d promised to marry her was an enigma.

  “I’d love to have you as a son-in-law,” Martha said, her voice thick. “I know Charlie would, too. And you’re as good as gold to stand by Louise like this even though—”

  Eyes wide, Frederick looked at Martha, who was once again absorbed with Louise. Like her daughter, she’d already assumed the marriage was a done deal. The weight of the moment overpowered him as the responsibility piled up in stifling conviction. He imagined the horror of being a quadriplegic, especially if you really believed a man loved you and dropped you because you were crippled. He understood what it felt like to be alone in such a situation, even if Allie had dumped him before the land mine explosion. He also knew the heartbreak of dreaming of Allie, reaching for her, only to remember he was stranded in bed and she was never coming back.

  In the desperation of the moment, he believed the most honorable thing to do was be there for Louise—even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness. After all, she wouldn’t be paralyzed if he hadn’t used her and then told her how to get on top of the plane.

  “Please . . .” Louise begged as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. “Please don’t leave me. I promise if you’ll marry me, I’ll make you the best wife ever.”

  Frederick’s sleep-deprived mind struggled with a ragged jumble of “shoulds” and “what ifs.” He wondered if he could live with himself if he left the twenty-year-old with no options of matrimony and no future. Even if he and Allie became blissfully wed, Frederick wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing what he’d done to Louise . . . knowing he’d abandoned her.

  “Of course,” he whispered and gently kissed her hairline.

  Martha wept. “Such a wonderful young man. So wonderful,” she said between sniffles. “I could never ask for a better son-in-law. Just wonderful.”

  Louise’s face relaxed. She licked her dry lips, swallowed, and closed her eyes. A satisfied smile played around her mouth.

  The nurse reentered and moved to the head of Louise’s bed. “I’m sorry but your time’s up,” she stated, her eyes compassionate, her words as unyielding as her face. “She’s going to ICU. Please check with them about their visitation schedule.”

  Frederick urged Martha away from the bed and walked into the hallway. Clinging to Frederick, Martha once again rested her head against his shoulder. She dabbed at her nose with a tattered tissue and mumbled something about Frederick’s being a prince.

  A surreal numbness seeping into his soul, Frederick steered his future mother-in-law back toward the waiting room. While his remorseful heart convinced him he’d done the honorable thing, his mind insisted he’d fallen into a dreadful trap he had no way of avoiding. When he spotted Allie sitting by Mr. Grove in the waiting room, a swell of confusion nearly took him down. Frederick knew the crazy circumstances had overtaken his life like a rapid river flood that sweeps through and destroys in seconds.

  His exhaustion from earlier that day attacked him tenfold. Frederick’s gritty eyes grew heavy with fatigue and grief.

  Mrs. Grove slumped in the chair next to her husband and said, “Frederick Wently is the most wonderful man who ever lived. He just told Louise he’d still marry her no matter what.” She gripped Frederick’s hand and looked up at him as if he were Superman.

  Charlie Grove turned his flushed face toward Frederick. A trickle of tears collected in the creases under one eye. Not even the flood of admiration crossing his features could bolster Frederick.

  “You have no idea what a relief that is,” Charlie said. “As long as we’re alive, we’ll be there for her, but then what?”

  “I know,” Frederick mumbled, and finally had the nerve to look at Allie.

  Her stricken expression added to Frederick’s frustration. Minutes before, he’d wondered how he could sleep at night knowing he’d left a woman who was a quadriplegic because of him. Now he wondered how he’d ever sleep knowing what he’d done to Allie.

  “I—I’m sorry,” he gasped and shook his head. “I—I—” Frederick gripped the back of his neck with both hands and stared at the floor. “If it hadn’t been for me this wouldn’t have—”

  “No!” Allie exclaimed.

  Both the Groves jumped.

  Frederick’s gaze snapped back to her. He never remembered Allie sounding so forceful.

  She leaped to her feet and doubled her fists. “You can’t blame yourself!” She stomped her foot and the sound filled the room with a slap.

  “But you don’t know everything, Allie! You just don’t know.” Frederick lifted his hands. He teetered on the precipice of blurting everything . . . about how he’d used Louise . . . about his brutally telling her he didn’t care if she broke her neck . . . about how all this had driven someone so immature and fragile into doing exactly what he’d said.

  Frederick clenched his teeth and decided he didn’t have the stomach to tell the awful truth. Not now anyway. In Afghanistan, flinging his body between his crew and that land mine had ranked him an American hero. His treatment of Louise was anything but heroic.

  “I’ve got to go,” he mumbled and strode from the waiting room.

  “Frederick, wait!” Allie called.

  “No! I can’t!” he barked over his shoulder and rushed toward the exit.

  “Frederick!” she cried. “Please!”

  Frederick lunged into the star-studded night, and the automatic door blocked Allie’s voice.

  Twenty-Five

  Allie was certain this ordeal was a nightmare she’d awaken from. But as she stood at the closed hospital doors, she understood that the dream scenario was nothing but wishful thinking. A siren’s screaming raked along her nerves and insisted that all was reality, right down to the bizarre fact that Frederick had agreed to marry Louise. Allie felt like she was going to throw up.

  A paramedic pushed a gurney through the hospital’s automatic doors, on it a screaming infant and a bruised and bedraggled mother. Allie couldn’t take any more trauma. She turned her back on the victims and decided the time had come for her to go home. When she stepped back into the waiting room, Jim Bennington was talking with Louise’s parents.

  His face shadowed, Jim glanced toward Allie and then walked closer. “They said Frederick is marrying Louise,” he said, his voice low. “I didn’t even know they were that serious.”
>
  Allie shrugged and was so disheartened she couldn’t even cry. “I guess there was more there than any of us knew,” she said.

  “Guess so.” Jim shook his head and glanced toward Louise’s family. “These guys all need a place for the night. I’d offer my townhouse, but Frederick’s there and I’ve only got two bedrooms. Anyway, Frederick was supposed to call his sister and see if they can stay at Elton Mansion.”

  “Oh, of course they can,” Allie replied, before remembering the mansion was no longer hers to offer. She could have really used her third-floor haven tonight. The ache for her old home plus the Frederick–Louise business left Allie nearly unable to talk.

  Finally she said, “I meant, uh . . .” she smoothed her icy fingers along the front of her blouse, “that’s—that’s a great idea. I’m sure Darren and Sophia won’t mind in the least. They seem like a nice couple.” Her smile felt as sincere as plastic.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Jim asked.

  Allie peered at the alert man before her. Last night Jim was but a shadow of a soul compared to tonight. When he began exercising his medical authority, the man had fallen into his element and taken charge. The change in his demeanor was nearly miraculous. Ironically, Allie could better relate to last night’s Jim . . . the forlorn guy who could find something depressing in every rhyme.

  “Allie?” Jim prompted.

  “I . . . I’m not feeling very well.” She eyed Mr. and Mrs. Grove and Helena, who’d moved to her parents’ side. The three of them had finally stopped staring and crying and fainting long enough to talk to each other. “Would you be able to take care of them—make sure they get to Elton Mansion? I need to go home—back to Macon.” Allie’s face felt wooden; her heart, like stone.

  “Sure, but are you going to drive all the way back alone?” Jim checked his watch, and his straight hair fell over one eye.

  “You need a haircut,” Allie mumbled and didn’t realize she’d voiced her thoughts until Jim chuckled.

  “How right you are,” he said. “I was going to try to make that happen tomorrow.”

  “Sorry.” Allie looked down and thought she might have gotten embarrassed if she hadn’t been so distraught. “I didn’t even realize I said it.”

  Jim put his hand on her shoulder. “Believe it or not, Allie, you’ve helped me more in the last couple of days than you will ever know.”

  “I have?” she asked, her voice dull.

  “Yep. And I’d let you shave me bald if you wanted to.”

  Allie managed a tired smile. “All I did was listen, I guess.” She shrugged.

  “You did more than that. Last night you told me it’s time to get on with my life. Nobody else has said that.”

  “Really?”

  “No. Not even the counselor. At first I was aggravated at you. Then sometime last night after all that Robert Frost business—I think it was about three or so—I realized you were right. I’ve decided tonight to go back to work full time.” He toyed with the stethoscope. “The head nurse just told me they need an ER doctor here. I might apply. I think it would be a good change for me. Help to get my mind off of Felicity and onto making a difference.”

  Even though his words sounded solid and his face held more light, Jim’s eyes still reflected a trace of the darkness. And Allie knew that he was having a good evening, but his future still held its share of struggles.

  “Well, good,” she said and couldn’t believe the turn in their fortunes. Last night Allie had been thinking that Jim was nearing the edge. Now he seemed to be regaining some balance, and she was the one nearing the edge.

  The baby’s distant screaming accompanied the sounds of a frenzied staff working to save lives. The waiting room smelled like stale coffee and stagnant cleaning fluid. Mrs. Grove had started weeping again. The fluorescent glare off the over-polished floors threatened to give Allie a headache. And every bit of it pushed her to the brink of hysteria.

  “I . . . I really need to go,” she repeated and backed toward the exit.

  “Sure,” Jim replied. “Like I said, I’ll take care of everything here.” He looked around. “Whatever happened to Frederick, anyway?”

  “He left,” Allie stated and stiffly walked toward the exit.

  “Oh.” Jim’s hollow reply was loaded with all sorts of questions that Allie didn’t even want to think about. “Well, he probably didn’t get far,” Jim said. “We’re in my truck, and I’ve got the keys.”

  Within an hour and a half, Allie entered the guesthouse. She slung her canvas bag onto the couch and kicked her backless sandals across the room. They slammed into the coffee table and flopped against the area rug. Allie looked down at the spring outfit she’d donned this morning and was tempted to tear the thing off and rip it to shreds. She’d bought the gauzy blouse after her haircut and hadn’t worn it until today. Allie never wanted to look at the top again; it would forever remind her of the day Frederick promised to marry Louise Grove.

  This morning when she left for the flight with Frederick, Allie had twirled around in the dress and hoped the feminine appeal wasn’t lost on him. His appreciative grin and the invitation for her to ride in the copilot’s seat had fueled her hopes. But now Louise would forever be riding next to Frederick.

  Allie slammed the door and pulled at the hair she’d so meticulously styled before leaving for Atlanta. Somewhere in the middle of her journey home, she had begun to cry. And she’d wept until her eyes were bleary, her lids puffy. Even now, new tears streamed down her cheeks and marred her vision.

  Blindly she stumbled into the kitchen, only to step on something crunchy that cracked beneath her weight. Allie looked down to encounter a floor strewn with food. Crackers, bread, and a box of Cheerios cluttered the path between the kitchen cabinets and the back door. At the pet flap, a hunched-over, ring-tailed visitor stared at her like a disobedient child waiting for his parents’ verdict.

  “Great!” Allie hollered. “Just great!” She picked up the box of Cheerios and hurled it at the coon. “Go ahead!” she screamed. “Eat it! Eat all of it!” As the cereal box crashed against the door and slammed to the floor, the coon was just slipping out the pet flap. Allie ran to the door, kicked the Cheerios out of the way, and examined the sorry excuse for a latch. To say the thing was defective was a joke.

  Her face heating, Allie twisted the deadbolt, whipped open the door, and snatched up the box of cereal. She threw the Cheerios onto the back porch and yelled, “Just eat me out of house and home, why don’t you! Now I don’t have any cereal left!”

  She slammed the door, fell against it, and slid to the floor. Allie pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and tilted to her side. Fresh sobs wracked her body. And in the middle of all the misery, Allie knew this must be Frederick’s way of paying her back for what she did to him. Aunt Landon was right. He really was a heartbreaker.

  Twenty-Six

  The next morning at ten, Allie sat in her bed with her laptop and tried to decipher today’s emails. After deleting the usual junk mail, she rubbed her swollen eyes and focused on the remaining messages. Allie peered at Aunt Landon’s latest email a full ten seconds before deciding not to open it right now. Another one from Sarah Hamilton appeared more inviting and much safer.

  Allie clicked on the message and waited to read Sarah’s brief communiqué. As the message opened, Allie remembered sending her friend an email yesterday morning stating that Sarah had been right about Frederick’s not being a womanizer. Now she absorbed Sarah’s response and wished she’d read Aunt Landon’s email instead.

  Like I said, Allie, I think Frederick’s gold. If he’s still interested, grab him and don’t let him go. You know I know a good man when I see one. I married Larry, didn’t I?

  Over & Out!

  Diana Ross

  Under normal circumstances, Allie would have chuckled over Sarah’s signature. But today she found no humor in it. Instead, her eyes filled with fresh tears while her stomach felt full of lead. Her face
tightening, Allie hit Reply and typed, “It’s all over. He’s marrying Louise.” She pressed Send without even bothering to sign her name.

  Allie swiped away the tears and clicked on Aunt Landon’s email. As usual, she was singing the same tune:

  Allie,

  I haven’t heard a peep from you, and that worries me. I know you’re probably aggravated at me because I keep warning you against Frederick. But I can’t tell you enough how strongly I feel. Call it women’s intuition or what you like; I just have a hunch he’ll eventually hurt you. Honey, please don’t do something we’ll all regret later!

  Much love,

  Aunt L

  Allie hiccoughed over a sob. She grabbed the box of tissue from her nightstand, pulled out a wad, and scrubbed at her cheeks. When the tissue was wet, she used the freshly laundered sheet to dry the last round of tears.

  After hitting Reply, Allie’s trembling fingers rested on the keys. “Not to worry,” she wrote. “He’s marrying Louise Grove, Macy’s sister-in-law.” As with Sarah’s message, she didn’t bother to sign it.

  The phone rang. Allie looked at her cell phone and debated whether or not to answer. There was no name to indicate who it was—only a number. After Brent’s phone call Sunday night, she cringed every time the phone rang.

  But the reason she’d cringed was because she didn’t want Brent to interfere with her relationship with Frederick. Presently there was no relationship with Frederick, so there was no need to hesitate—except for the fact that Allie wasn’t interested in any romance right now.

  She answered the phone on the sixth ring and wasn’t surprised when Brent’s voice floated over the line. Allie forced her words to a normal tenor and commended herself for sounding only stuffy-nosed. After the usual “Hellos,” “How-are-yous,” and “Isn’t the weather nice?” Brent cleared his throat and hesitantly said, “I was wondering, um, if you aren’t busy tonight, if you’d like to go out for dinner and a movie.”