by Ari Rhoge
“Show me,” she said, softly, scooting up to him on the couch. “Show me, pleeeease?”
Charlie's hand clamped over the pocket. “No! I don't have a pack in there.”
“Then why are you hiding it?”
“Because I don't want you digging in my pockets.”
“Why? Why hide it if there's nothing to hide?” Jane tutted. “Charlie, it's okay. I won't judge. I helped my dad quit too. And Lizzy's tried far worse, let me tell you — she was kind of a wild child in college — hey!” She opened her mouth, stunned. Charlie had practically leapt up to a standing position.
“Damn it, woman!” He sighed gravely, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess it's fated. I've been sitting here all night — well, all week — wondering how to go about doing this. I'm not romantic enough — I'm really not. And I don't want it to be too clichéd, you know? No fortune cookies or champagne glasses. Like, I honestly think that's just a choking hazard. It happened to my cousin, Wendy—”
“Charlie, what the hell are you talking about?”
He began grinning. Then he fingered the ring in his pocket, and pulled it out, lowering onto his left knee almost reflexively. Jane's hands covered her mouth.
“Marry me, Jane?”
Jane took about 30 seconds. The longest 30 seconds of his life. Indigestion-causing 30 seconds. And then her arms flew around his neck, and she peppered his face with kisses. “Yes, you idiot! I love you — yes! Yes, of course! Yeah!”
• • •
Will met with Charlie for congratulatory drinks the next night, at a pub right down the street from the Netherfield Inn. He raised his scotch, Charlie clinked his beer, and the two men toasted to Mr. Bingley's happiness. “Best of luck, Charlie. I really couldn't be happier for you.” A beat. “I am your best man — correct?”
“Well, since you saved me the trouble of asking…” Charlie rolled his eyes in good humor. “Yeah, of course you are. And Lizzy will be Jane's maid of honor. It's gonna be quite a party. —— Listen — you think Richard will agree to being a groomsman? I'm a little short on prospects. You're my only bro.”
“Aww.” Will smiled, and tossed his drink back. “Yeah, I don't see why not. You guys get along well enough…”
Charlie had already zoned out, dimples showing and all. Every time there was a lull in the conversation, real or imagined, his thoughts flitted back to Jane — he couldn't help the smile that spread out across his face.
After a minute, he nudged Darcy. “So, you and Lizzy — have we unfucked that up?”
“Yeah.” Darcy was nodding, albeit hesitantly. “Yeah, almost. —— I don't know.”
“Don't worry about it. I know she's the headstrong and independent type of girl. But there was a reason she was at Pemberley that weekend. And, as sweet as your younger sister can be, I am really doubtful it was Georgie.” He paused. “Plus, she was wearing your shirt when I met her out on the patio the next morning.”
His hand was suspended in the air for a high five. Darcy stared at it reproachfully, then gave in, with a sigh.
Charlie brightened up. “Maybe we can have a double wedding ——!”
“No.”
• • •
That Sunday, Theresa Bennet found herself the happiest mother on the entire block. She spent the majority of the time boasting on the phone to her ex-neighbor, Phoebe Lucas. “Yes,” she trilled, buzzing around the kitchen like a fly, while Jane and Elizabeth did the majority of the cooking. “Yes, Janie is engaged! My daughter is engaged! And actually leading to a wedding, one can only hope. You recall what happened with poor Lizzy… what a gem that boy was. —— A doctor, yes. You have a very sharp memory, my dear. —— Oh well. But Charlie is wonderful.”
Lizzy's jaw clenched, and Jane touched her wrist fleetingly, giving her an encouraging smile. “Get the chicken out of the oven, would you? It should be finished.”
She obeyed, nodding. Now was not the time to pitch a fit with her mother. Family occasions were few and far between. So, she focused her attention elsewhere — Will and Charlie were in the basement with her father, finishing a game of pool.
Laughter could be heard from the dining room, where the table was being set by Lydia and her date. Lizzy smiled impishly at the thought, delicately lowering the oven tray onto a wooden cutting board. She craned her neck to see into the next room, and saw Gabe Webster gingerly tucking napkins under each plate, to Lydia's delight and praise.
“Well done, Red.” She ruffled his hair.
Thank heavens he had finally contacted her, even if it was only via Facebook. Lizzy wasn't sure if she could take much more of Lydia's bad judgment in boys. Not after Wickham. But Gabe was a sweetheart — she liked him.
He caught her eye from the doorway, smiled, and waved. “'Lo!”
“—don't be silly, Phoebe!” Her mother's halting laughter caught her attention again, and grated on her nerves. She was leaning against the counter now, the black cordless phone wedged between her ear and shoulder. “It's going to be a huge wedding! You can bring whomever you like — I doubt my Jane will object. We might as well invite the whole town. … Well, he is very financially secure — the cost of the wedding is no object. Maybe we can even hire that Ace of Cakes guy! … No, he is far richer than Steven was — don't be ridiculous. Phoebe, the way you ramble on…”
Lizzy's eyes fell shut, and she began counting backward from 10. But a tremor was working its way into her fists, and she wasn't sure if she could contain it—
Strong, warm arms wrapped themselves around her waist, and Will pulled her to him so suddenly that she yelped in surprise. Lizzy felt her frustration evaporating in a thin wisp of steam. She relaxed into him, smiling, and Will pressed a kiss to her cheek. “How are you surviving up here?” he asked, his voice a low hum against her neck.
Lizzy turned around in his arms, and straightened the collar of his shirt. She was smiling broadly. “Just fine, now that you're here. Did you let my dad win at pool?”
“Yes.”
“Good. It is his birthday.”
“Which is why I made him victor,” said Will. “He doesn't need to know I was a pool hustler in college.”
“I don't know why, but that turns me on,” Lizzy replied, under her breath. Will began to laugh, and asked her if she needed any help in the kitchen.
“Will, where's Charlie?” asked Jane. She looked so domestic in her apron, her blond hair pinned up in an elegant bun — like a prettier, updated June Cleaver.
“I don't know. He was in the basement with us, but then your dad brought up something about swearing him into the family, and how he had to take the Bennet blood oath…” Will ended his explanation with a shrug. “I think Charlie ran outside, or something.”
Jane sighed, and marched into the basement. “Dad!”
Lizzy was smirking.
“It's difficult to tell when he's joking and when he isn't,” Will admitted.
“Yeah, I know — I love it.”
Theresa Bennet skirted by them, chuckling at an unheard joke Phoebe Lucas had told her. Lizzy resisted the urge to swat her with a spatula.
During dinner, it came up in conversation that Lizzy's new boyfriend was a lawyer. So great was the change in Mrs. Bennet that the three sisters could not help but groan to themselves. She inched toward him, fingers steepled under her chin. “Where do you practice law, Will? May I call you Will?”
“Oh, my God. Can it, Ma!”
“Jane, you just sounded a little like Fran Drescher,” mumbled Mr. Bennet, with a dry chuckle. His booming voice was offset by the ill-fitting, lopsided orange birthday hat on his head. Lydia adjusted it for him. She had a pink one on, Gabe a green.
Gabe, a newcomer to the craziness that was the Bennets, simply watched everybody around the dinner table with great interest, spooning mashed potatoes into his mouth.
Well wishes were given in honor of John. But 30 minutes later he raised his wine glass to toast Jane and Charlie. “Congratulations on your engagemen
t, my beautiful Jane and her fiancé, Charlie. May you have the greatest happiness. May you never take each other for granted.” Jane smiled tearfully, and Charlie thanked him. His voice grew a little quieter. “And, most importantly, may you always be able to respect one another, even after all the glitz and glamour of the marriage has faded.”
There was a pause, short but heavy. Lizzy looked up at her dad. Her mother's voice chimed in to wish them luck and happiness. They all clinked their glasses, and drained them. “To Jane and Charlie!”
After dinner, Jane begged her parents to have a bonfire in the grilling pit, just as she did when she was 14 and her friends would come over for a sleepover. Her father laughingly obliged her. And so they all circled around the barren pit. Charlie, Gabe and Will helped Mr. Bennet gather firewood. Will tossed the match, and the flame crackled to life, orange flames swaying back and forth in the spring breeze. They all sat roasting marshmallows, laughing and talking.
The pool was still covered, as it was still too nippy, even for June. Lizzy huddled close to Will. He shrugged off his sweatshirt, and pulled it over her shoulders.
“Last time we roasted marshmallows was by candlelight,” Lizzy recalled.
“Oh, yeah,” Jane said, laughing. She had a quilt from the living room wrapped snugly around her body. “That power outage was terrible. —— And your sister was so cranky!”
“Caroline is always cranky,” muttered Charlie, rescuing a marshmallow from the flame. He peeled the puckered, charred skin from it, and ate the center. “I still have to tell her about the engagement.” He began to laugh, mid-chew.
Jane's eyes grew wide. “Charlie! I thought you told her.”
“Nope — just my parents.”
“Oh, God — what if she's unpleasant about it?”
“I don't care. It's Caroline. She has a conniption every time Nordstrom doesn't renew her 20%-off coupons,” he muttered. Lizzy erupted in a fit of laughter.
Caroline. Being bridesmaids with you will be an experience.
Jane seemed to gauge Lizzy's inner thoughts. She grimaced, sympathetically. “I'm sorry, sweetie. But I'm thinking I'll throw Charlotte into the mix. And maybe Georgiana, Will's sister — from what I've heard, she seems like a nice girl. What do you think, Will?”
“Sorry, what?” He looked up, having been preoccupied by the flames. Lizzy smiled, and squeezed his shoulder. Jane repeated the question, and he relaxed, nodding. “Oh, she would be thrilled. Just don't put her in an orange dress. —— Because that was the one I told her she looked unflattering in.”
“Congratulations — you've given your sister a complex,” Gabe said, making a s'more. He handed it to Lydia, who grinned at him. “But, yeah, orange is not her color. I think she wore a tube top in that shade for one of our first gigs, and Shoshanna tried to talk her out of it. The color washed her out on stage.”
“That's all I said! And she hung up on me,” Will scoffed.
“Women can hear it from other women,” said Jane. “Not men. She asked your opinion so you could tell her that she looked pretty.”
He sighed in frustration. “Then, it's not my opinion.”
She shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“She's right,” Lizzy tutted.
“Does anybody know any campfire songs?” asked Charlie.
“I'm going to go grab another soda,” Lizzy said, getting up and stretching. “Anybody want anything from the fridge, while I'm up?” Everybody seemed to want refills. Will got up to help her, following her up the stone pathway to the patio. She held open the screen door for him. “Close it. I don't want flies getting in.”
“So bossy.” Will shook his head.
“I am not.” She swatted at his backside with his own sweatshirt.
They stepped into the kitchen. “So, where's the cooler?”
“Over here,” she called. He followed her out into the hall, and stopped. Lizzy was on the second step of the staircase, peering down at him. “Well? Come on up.”
“It's up there, huh?”
“Yeah, I refrigerate everything in my room —— don't you?” She took his hand, and led him upstairs, him chuckling behind her. The last room of the hallway was a small one, the walls painted lavender. Lizzy shut the door behind them. There was a standard queen-size bed, with its white sheets, unused, pristinely tucked in. Her old dresser was still there, too — white, with pink trim. “It's used for guests now, I think.”
Will was perusing her bookshelf. He pulled out a thin pamphlet wedged between two Judy Blume novels. “Hmm. Your Body and You! —— Interesting read.”
Lizzy snatched it away, her ears turning bright red. “Seventh-grade Lizzy was a hoarder.”
“I bet you were cute.”
“No. Gangly. Awkward. Freckled, like my dad.” She had pulled her hair over one shoulder, and was threading her fingers through it now, her eyes downcast, self-conscious in her memories.
Will shrugged. “If I knew you then, I probably would have still been crazy about you. —— And still scowling and surly in my delivery, don't worry.”
Lizzy began to laugh, brightening. She watched him awhile as he prodded at the soccer trophies on the top shelf of her bookcase. She felt a pull toward him then, a warmth that settled in her belly. Lizzy bit her lip, and pretended to brush dust from the dresser.
Will was looking at her certificates from school. Then a photo of her and Jane as girls, coupled together in a giant teacup at Disney World. Lizzy was freckled and super smiley. Her sister's blond hair was so bright it nearly shone white.
If he was being honest with himself, Will had to admit that he was a little jealous of the bond between the sisters. He adored Georgie — really, he did. But he had always been her guardian of sorts — an older brother that bordered on parent, given their mother's passing, their dad's illness, and all the extra responsibilities over the years. He loved her, and would take a bullet for her without hesitation. But Charlie was the closest thing he had to a sibling his own age.
“Oh, wait.” Lizzy interrupted his reverie, smiling. “I didn't show you the best part. —— Lie down on my bed.”
“What?” Will laughed, straightening.
“Just do it!”
He followed her command. She watched him stretch out on her bed, his feet threatening to hang over the edge of the mattress. Darcy was all long limbs — she wondered if his tuxedo would have to be tailored. “Okay, now what?” Will asked.
Lizzy shut the lights off, and scrambled into bed with him. Above their heads, a constellation of glowing green, blue and pink stars glimmered in the dark. Comets and meteor showers, as well as ringed planets and moons — her bedroom was completely coated in solar systems. “My dad and I spent a whole week sticking them all over my walls,” she whispered. “Lydia was so jealous. So, Mom bought her this giant unicorn–pony thing at FAO Schwarz in the city — that shut her up.”
Darcy grinned, his smile lost in the darkness. He turned to look at her. The glow cast soft shadows on her face. Lizzy held her hand up, her fingers tracing galaxies overhead. “Would be great for my classroom,” she murmured, to herself. “Not that we ever shut the lights off. Except for movies, and when I put the overhead projector on.” She looked at him. “——Did you say something?”
“No.” He shook his head. His hand found hers.
Lizzy smiled. “Thanks for coming here with me.” They were both whispering, had been whispering since the lights were turned off.
“Of course.” He kissed her gently, right at her temple. She brushed his hair back. Tentatively, Lizzy propped herself up on an elbow and reciprocated the kiss. Then she nestled up against him. He brought his arms around her.
A few minutes later, he was drifting, and she roused him. “Hey, Will?” she whispered.
“Mm?”
She said it with full confidence — “I love you, too.” Lizzy brought his hand up to her lips, and he pulled her in close.
30
—
Kingdom Come
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Lizzy sat on the bench, her legs crossed. She had a pumpkin-spice latte in one hand, and in her lap Hemingway's A Moveable Feast was open, familiar passages highlighted, though she had been reading the same page at least three times. She glanced up quickly, as she did every 30 seconds, to make sure the little ginger boy rocketing back and forth on the swing set hadn't broken an ankle yet. Or two.
The toddler had lost momentum, his little legs struggling to hit the ground. Lizzy got up, and brushed dirt off her denim skirt. The leaves crunched under her boots, and she inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp air of autumn. The boy wriggled in his seat, and Lizzy laughed. “You want a push, Pete?”
He wriggled more, and she pushed him lightly on the swing. A giggle tore out into the cool air. “Again!” Lizzy grinned.
God, his hair was so red it nearly blended in with the fall foliage. Pete Bingley was the spitting image of his father. He had Jane's big blue eyes, though — her smile, too.
Lizzy got into a strange little routine of reading then pushing her nephew every two pages. Occasionally, she would stop to slip the highlighter out from behind her ear and make a note of something important. She had finally gotten used to being a student again — at least on the weekends, she could devote herself to her coursework. When the Bingleys didn't need babysitting, that was. It was ambitious of her, and extremely daunting — initially she wasn't sure she could do it — teach part-time and work toward her master's degree through evening and online classes. But if not now — when?
She had six months left. Just six months. She looked down. Hopefully that would be enough.
Her phone buzzed, and Lizzy fished for it in the pocket of her leather jacket. “Hello?”
“When are you coming home?” Darcy, affronted, asked her.
She grinned. “Why? Miss me already?”
“I always miss you, Lizzy. It's a damn shame you have so much power over me.”
“Fear me,” she said, casually. She gave Pete another push, and he laughed boisterously. “I'm cheating on you with Pete for the morning. But I'll be on the three o'clock train out of Trenton, all right? If you can get Chinese takeout for dinner, I will love you forever — I'm in no mood to cook tonight.”