by Ari Rhoge
“You're right. You're right!” Jane visibly relaxed.
“She's right!” Charlie joined in. He had taken off his apron, and had walked around the island to knead Jane's shoulders gently. She sat at one of the bar stools now, looking frazzled.
Lizzy held up a bottle of Pinot Noir. “I'm going to go pop this in the fridge.”
“Okay.”
She caught wind of their conversation from where she stood, and glanced over her shoulder to watch them. Charlie was kneeling next to Jane, smiling up at her. “Relax. I'm going to love them no matter what. You know why? Because they're yours. The question is whether or not they'll like me,” he murmured.
Jane cupped his chin. “Of course they will, Charlie. You're wonderful.”
Charlie beamed, and got to his feet. “So are you.” He cradled her cheek, and kissed her.
Lizzy smiled softly, turned around, and placed the bottle in the fridge.
Their parents got there shortly after. It only took 30 seconds for their mother to start fussing. And Tess Bennet was a natural at it, too. She pinched her oldest daughter's cheeks, and tutted, “baby girl, you're so skinny. Aren't you eating anything? I know you have long hours at the clinic —— but you need nourishment!”
“She's a physical therapist, Mom. I'm sure Jane understands how the human body works,” Elizabeth said, smiling. Her father, John, was slicing carrots on a cutting board, and had paused to smirk at her.
“Janie's a strong one. Remember when she used to beat me at arm wrestling?” John sighed, wistfully.
“You let me win!” Jane exclaimed.
“Oh, God — she knows,” moaned their father, pounding both fists on the counter.
“It only took me 20-some years to catch on — no worries,” laughed Jane.
Charlie was introduced afterward. He had stepped outside to take a business call, and came back inside, shaking snow from his boots and shivering from the cold. He beamed at the Bennets. “Hello! I'm sorry, I had to take a call from the Netherfield office. I'm Char— oh!”
Tess was already hugging him. “It's so good to meet you! Oh Jane, you never mentioned how handsome he is. And so hardworking, too — still taking calls on a Saturday night?”
“Guilty,” Charlie said, smiling. His cheeks were pink now.
Dinner progressed very much like a demented quiz show. Their mother, much to Jane's embarrassment, had chosen to sit next to Charlie, and spent the entirety of the meal grilling her daughter's boyfriend with her chin perched in her hands. She rolled out the compliments — it bordered on kissing ass — which everybody, including Charlie, seemed to realize. She couldn't contain herself — Tess Bennet was a proud mama bear. Her eldest had bagged quite the eligible (rich) bachelor.
“What a lucrative businessman you are, Charlie!” Tess gushed.
“Nah, I'm pretty awful, and absentminded. I just employ people who keep me in check.”
“Like Will,” Jane noted, with a smile.
“Yes, Will. Begrudgingly,” Charlie said, laughing.
Tess soon turned her attention to Elizabeth, who had been eating in silence, save for the occasional moment she said something to throw her mother off the route of embarrassing Jane. When this happened, John would glance up knowingly, and Jane would flash her sister a grateful smile. But now she became a target. “Elizabeth, I spoke to Phoebe Lucas the other day. They live in Santa Monica now.”
“Do they?” Elizabeth asked, calmly, taking a long sip of her wine.
“They do! They have a very successful accounting firm down there. Phoebe tells me that Charlotte is in a very serious relationship now. Her boyfriend's rich and successful.”
“He's also kind of a turd.”
“Because he's rich and successful?” John asked, amused.
“No. Maybe. It might be a contributing factor,” said Lizzy.
“Charlie here seems very levelheaded and kind,” Tess pointed out. Charlie looked up and opened his mouth, feeling awkward.
“Charlie's awesome. Bill Collins is kind of a skeeveball.”
“Crap.” John sat back in his chair gloomily. “I didn't take my notebook with me to note your newly expanded vocabulary.”
“It just keeps getting bigger,” Lizzy said, grinning.
“That's what she said.”
Jane winced, “Dad, can we not?”
“Sorry.”
“I think you're just jealous, Lizzy,” Tess said, calmly, twirling her fork into a mound of pasta. “Your best friend's dating someone, and your sister's in a very serious relationship.”
Jane and Charlie both blushed, and refused to look at each other. Lizzy felt sorry for them. It was clear that they hadn't exactly defined their relationship yet — and they certainly didn't need a stamp from Theresa Bennet.
Lizzy sighed, and prepared herself for a conversation she had heard dozens of times.
“It's tough being single, but it would be so much easier if you stopped giving guys so much attitude! You scare them off.” Tess shook her head.
John gave her the thumbs up, and she smiled before turning to her mother. “Mom, I'm fine.”
“You're not. You like being alone too much — and you throw yourself into your job.”
“Well, I love my job.”
“You haven't had a serious relationship since Steven,” said Tess. “It's been three years.”
“I don't want to talk about that.”
“Mary Ventresca has a son about your age—”
“Stop right there.” Elizabeth pointed her fork at her mother. John snorted.
“Charlie.” Tess patted his hand briefly. “Surely, you have a friend you can introduce to Lizzy? If she can keep her mouth shut long enough, people may realize she's pretty!”
Lizzy buried her face in her hands, and groaned. John rubbed her back comfortingly. “I know, I know. There's no stopping her.”
Charlie pursed his lips, and bit back a laugh. “Um.” He chuckled. “With all due respect, Lizzy doesn't seem like she wants or needs to be set up.”
“Thank you!”
“But hey, I'm sure Will would be open to a blind date,” he teased.
“Blind date as in… I would hit him and his vision would be temporarily disabled?” Lizzy arched an eyebrow.
“Who's Will?” Tess asked.
Jane said, “Charlie's best friend. We all met… at a concert.”
“That was an awfully suspicious pause,” John said, dryly.
Jane stuffed her mouth with pasta, and Charlie covered up additional laughter with a napkin. His shoulders shook silently. Lizzy pursed her lips. The less they knew about any accident, the better.
“Is he successful?” Tess asked. She sat up, attentive and energetic.
“Uh.” Charlie's brow creased. “I mean, I don't think that's very important—”
“Of course not.”
“—but Will's pretty well off. More importantly, he's got a good heart.” Elizabeth looked at him skeptically, and Charlie laughed. “I promise he does! I know, he's not the first to show it.”
“Is he tall? Because Lizzy's quite tall, and would need somebody with a complimentary height,” Tess said, matter-of-factly.
“Is 5'6" really that tall?” asked Jane.
Lizzy turned to her father, and pointed at the space between her eyes. “If you shoot me right here, can you make sure you have a pistol with a high caliber? Because I don't want to suffer when you kill me — I just want a good, clean finito shot, right between the eyes.”
“I'm having more fun watching you die a little inside, very slowly,” John said, finishing his glass of wine.
“I hate you.”
“Love you too, honey.”
“Darcy's at least a head taller than Lizzy.” Charlie said, nodding, then looking to Elizabeth pointedly. “It's a pretty cute height difference.”
Lizzy narrowed her eyes at him.
Since the first group date at the movie theatre, Charlie had made a habit out of teasing them. Perhaps he wanted to set them
up so they were a proper group of four, sitcom style. He went out of his way to embarrass them both, which Lizzy found funny ordinarily — because really, she and Darcy, despite any initial superficial interest, were simply not compatible. But with her mother present during the jokes, it just made everything awkward.
“There were sparks, Lizzy!” Charlie laughed.
“Yeah, okay. Maybe from the tires.”
“Are you sure you met at a concert?” John muttered, skeptically.
Charlie grinned.
Tess asked, “wait, I'm confused. Were they already set up?”
“We hung out as a group. They don't get along very well, Mrs. Bennet,” Charlie explained. “In fact, I've come to terms with the fact that they would sooner get into a fistfight. I just like teasing them to see how irritated they get. Strong personalities and all.”
“It's difficult being the mellow one.” John smiled, knowingly.
“Really? You manage just fine,” Lizzy said.
“It's an art.”
Tess sat simpering awhile. “I'm giving Mary Ventresca's son your number.”
“Fuck no!”
• • •
After they left, Lizzy and Jane were relieved. The three of them stood in the kitchen in absolute silence. Charlie and Jane said nothing, simply because they didn't know what to say. Conversely Lizzy was quiet simply because she was busy finishing her glass of wine.
Charlie finally spoke up. “I like them.”
“I'm so sorry,” Jane immediately said. “Mom's just like that. With all boyfriends, unfortunately. Four daughters have fine-tuned her grilling skills.”
“I understand. It's fine.”
“If you want, I will never invite them here again,” Jane teased, smiling.
Charlie laughed. “That's silly. You should invite them all to the party.”
“Party?” Lizzy asked.
“The Netherfield location is opening on the first weekend of February. We're having a massive party that Saturday — I'm talking black tie,” Charlie explained. “Well, not really. But it's going to be pretty big and fancy. It would be nice to have your family there.”
Jane chewed on her lip, considering this awhile. “I'm not sure, Charlie.”
“Your parents are fine, Jane — and I'm sure the rest of your sisters will be, too.”
Jane and Lizzy exchanged glances, then turned to start cleaning up.
Charlie touched Lizzy on the shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yup.” She handed Charlie two empty glasses, and smiled.
She wasn't okay, really. Despite Charlie's sweet temper, Lizzy had a feeling he was secretly put off by their mother's frankness. He would never admit it.
She was also annoyed by the dinner in general.
They had mentioned Will Darcy, whom she would sooner forget she ever met. Then her mother had brought up Steven Kennedy — the only man she had ever considered marrying before their two-year relationship had gone up in smoke. Lizzy shut her eyes briefly, and disappeared to collect the dishes from the table. Keeping busy — it was how she had gotten over Steve to begin with. It was how she got through everything, come to think of it.
• • •
The end of January was interesting for two significant reasons:
1 - that massive rock on Charlotte's ring finger;
2 - Greg.
The engagement had the equivalent of socking Lizzy in the stomach — she was very surprised. She bustled into the apartment on a Thursday evening after an entire day of parent–teacher conferences at the elementary school. She was cold, but otherwise joyful, having just bought much needed groceries.
“I come bearing gifts!” Lizzy grinned, emptying out the brown bags onto the kitchen counter. “Char, we are going to be cooking, cooking, cooking! I may have spent my entire Christmas bonus just now — on food. Totally worth it. Also, Ghiradelli squares. All together now — yum.”
Charlotte sat at the kitchen counter, smiling up at her best friend.
“What's happened?” Lizzy asked.
“Bill proposed!”
“He what?”
“Proposed marriage to me, Lizzy.”
“Yeah, I got that part.” Elizabeth laughed, running a hand through her hair. “Uh, wow. When?”
“This morning.”
“What are you going to say to him?”
“I'm going to accept, obviously,” Charlotte said. She opened up the bag of Ghiradelli squares and unfolded a chocolate before popping it into her mouth. “Wow, these really are good. Thank you.”
Lizzy stood staring at her best friend with a gaping open mouth she forgot to close. So many things were at the tip of her tongue. Why? What the fuck? He's a troll! So, what, you're a gold-digger, now? You've been dating for four months! You did it on the coffee table! He's going to cheat on you! You're an idiot! More underwear and socks?
But Lizzy composed herself, and asked Charlotte if she could see her ring. Charlotte enthusiastically obliged her. It was a giant oval diamond in a silver Tiffany band. “That's gorgeous,” Lizzy said, smiling. “Congratulations, Charlotte. I'm so happy for you.”
“We're getting married in a month.”
Lizzy balked at her. “If I were drinking something right now, I would do a spit-take. A month?”
Charlotte shrugged, and pulled her hair back into a short ponytail. “His godmother is available only next month.”
“Is she an ordained minister on a tight schedule?”
“No, but… she's pretty important to him — and she's flying there from London.”
Then Charlotte explained to Lizzy that they weren't even going to get married in Pennsylvania. They would marry at the Collins's summer home in California, near their vineyard.
“Well, la-di-da,” Lizzy said, sighing. “Charlotte, do you even love him?”
“Yes.”
“You answered that pretty fast.”
Charlotte shrugged. “Then, I mean it. Look, I know you don't like him. But you're my best friend and I need you to be supportive.”
“What if the whole marriage explodes?” Lizzy argued.
Charlotte shrugged again. “We're getting a prenup.”
“For fuck's sake…”
“Lizzy, we're not having the sanctity of marriage talk again.” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Just because you never made it down the aisle—”
“Charlotte, stop it. I hate when people get married on a whim, okay? You're making a joke out of it. People should marry only when they truly, deeply love each other —— all right? After they've found a best friend, a partner in the person they're marrying. It's not a fucking joke,” Lizzy pointed out, her hands on her hips. She slumped her shoulders a second later. “Come to think of it, this is probably why I'm going to end up alone and with a million cats —— or dogs, because I'm definitely not a cat person.”
Charlotte had crossed her arms over her chest. “That's nice and sweet and all, Lizzy — but it isn't practical. I'm 29 — I wanted to be married by 30. —— Don't roll your eyes at me. —— Marriage is about much more than love — it's about security. It's about a partnership, yes, in terms of supporting the other. And Bill and I have a solid understanding between us.”
“What, you mooch off his stock market ventures and fund your latest shopping spree?” Lizzy snapped. “Buy what you can't buy on a receptionist's salary?”
Charlotte, livid, gasped. “Wow.”
“What do you expect me to think, Charlotte?” Lizzy waved her hand, exasperated. “You sound like a gold-digger. A starving artist who scored a guy with money.”
“I'm not having this conversation,” she said, flippantly, before sidestepping Lizzy and walking down the hall.
“Because you know I'm right!” Lizzy called after her. A bedroom door slammed in response. She sighed and shook her head. “Damn it.”
Greg seemed to happen directly after their spat — she would be grateful for the distraction.
7
—
There's a Story There
Lizzy liked to submerge herself in other people's lives when she didn't particularly want to wander around in her own. She let her fingers skim over the smooth, pristine spines of books, occasionally pulling one out to thumb through it — she would then put it back, and quickly check her phone. Charlotte had yet to answer her three texts. She contemplated calling her, then slid the phone back into her coat pocket.
I may have been too harsh. Charlotte was her best friend, after all. But she was moving quickly, and there was simply no time (or desire) for Lizzy to sugarcoat her opinion. There has to be a way I can apologize and still keep my argument intact, she reasoned with herself. The engagement was a massive mistake. It was impulsive, stupid, and the very definition of settling. Charlotte had to realize this. She was sensible!
Elizabeth sighed, and took a travel-log off the shelf. She leafed through the pages, letting one woman's account of rustic Tuscany fill her mind in place of her current dilemma. This was successful awhile, until an employee started to noisily restock a rack of Vera Bradley merchandise — and she lost her temper.
“Dude!”
The boy shelving patterned diaries and pencil cases flinched, then apologized, sincerely enough for Lizzy to feel bad. This might have also happened because he was cute.
“No, I'm sorry. I'm just having a testy evening. Ignore me,” she said, sighing, and raking a hand through her hair. He didn't say anything, and pressed his lips together.
“Want to talk about it?”
She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Lizzy arched an eyebrow at him. His nameplate read Greg, he was a little taller than she was, and he had warm brown eyes and sandy hair. Then he smiled reassuringly, and she realized he had dimples. And scruff. It was not good.
“I'm not sure if you want to hear it, Bookseller Shrink.”
“It's Greg. —— And, look, I've been working a 12-hour shift. Anything you say will be interesting, I promise you.”
At the exact same moment, around seven aisles down and to the right of the store, Will Darcy was trying to comply to his little sister's ridiculous demands. It was a cold Thursday night, and he had stopped at a local Borders on his commute back to town. Georgie had called for an emergency textbook for the new semester.