The Best of Fools (Jane Austen Book 2)

by Marilyn Grey

  There's one memory that sticks out the most to me though. I think I was sixteen and he was seventeen. He joked around about wanting to be with me and I told him it just didn't feel right. I loved him, but wasn't in love with him. When he asked what would make it feel right I said, "I don't know. If I ever feel that way I'll tell you that I've fallen and can't get up. Then you'll know."

  He laughed, but he knew I'd never say it. Locked in my dungeon of relational fears, I sat alone. Content to be alone. Donovan learned to accept it.

  But things change. People change. When they actually want to.

  I changed.

  Alistair revived me.

  I'm sure that wasn't his intention and I wasn't being fair to either of them. I knew that. I knew I needed to tell Donovan the truth and if he no longer felt the same, well, then maybe I could move on.

  Han made it difficult though. I didn't want to lose her friendship or hurt her in anyway. Or him. What if he really loved her and my proclamation—after years of pushing him away—made her go away? That would kill me too.

  After going back and forth, pondering this option and that solution, over and over again, I finally made a decision. Wasn't the best decision in the world, but it was something I really, really needed to do as soon as possible.

  Chapter 22

  Mom and Dad stared at me like I was crazy. I was. I was definitely crazy. Eddie played around on his phone, probably some weird brain teaser app to test and strengthen his intellect, but he stopped when I told them my latest decision.

  "I know it sounds impulsive," I said. "But I feel like I need to do this right now."

  Mom glanced at Dad. He nodded, then she said, complete with British accent, "Honey, if you feel this is important, then I am willing to do it. As long as Eddie and Granny can watch over your father." She looked at Dad.

  "I'm just concerned," Dad's voice of reason entered the scene. "Not about me. About you Jane. Are you trying to run away again? I don't understand. And it's a lot of money." He paused, cleared his throat, and folded his hands on his lap. "I know the shop didn't go as planned, but you need to handle this like an adult."

  "Dad." I sighed.

  "I'm serious. You're eighteen now. You live on your own. You successfully created your own store, which is unheard of for many kids your—"

  "Now I'm a kid." I laughed. "I thought I was an adult?"

  Eddie's eyes shot up. "Jane!"

  "What?" I nearly jumped out of my chair. "What did I do?"

  "You just responded in a British accent." Mom smiled. "Maybe you really are changing."

  "Okay, guys." I took a bite of Mom's homemade peach pie which was dee-freaking-licious, then continued, "You're all overreacting. I'm not running away. I'm not being immature. I just want to go somewhere with Mom. And these are places I've always wanted to go. Every Batman fan's dream. Plus, I need a vacation. Badly. I need to get away from everyone and I want my mother's support. That's all." I looked at Mom's glowing face as Dad's hand disappeared under the table. Then hers. "Mom, you're my real best friend. The best best friend. Remember when everything went haywire so many times in the past and I'd stay home and watch movies with you?"

  Her smile grew.

  "And remember how happy I was? Those are some of my best memories. This is something I've always wanted to do and I want you there."

  "I'll come." Even her eyes smiled. "But we can't be gone long. Two weeks at the most. Where's the first destination?"

  "This will wipe a lot of your money out." Dad. Again. Who else?

  "Don't pop bubbles," I said. "Join in on the fun of blowing them."

  He shook his head. "I'm just worried this is a bit irrational and when you come back to an empty bank account you're going to regret it. What if you lose your apartment and the shop, Jane? You put so much hard work into it."

  "Dad, look, I've got it all planned to make it as cheap as possible. And quick. I need this. It will inspire me for the new direction I'm taking with the shop aaaand I can write it off as a business expense."

  "Yes, but—"

  "Husband." Mom gently touched his hair and wound it around her finger. "It will be fine. She wants to do this and I would love to spend some extra time with her. It'll be okay, dear."

  He took her hand, kissed it, and there they went into La La Land. Eyes locked on each other's, smiles easing their cheeks up toward cloud nine. Oh, man.

  I stood. "Okay. So let's plan to leave Friday."

  Eddie looked up again. "Meet me in my room before you go. Give me five minutes." He stood and disappeared around the corner.

  Mom and Dad looked at me.

  I shrugged. "He's Eddie. Who knows."

  "I know," Mom said. "He may not be the most expressive person—like someone else I know—but if you just listen and watch you can intimately know any person in the world, regardless of how much they tell you."

  "How can you listen if they don't tell you?"

  "People speak in all sorts of ways, Jane. It's just that most people only listen with the intention of speaking, not knowing. If you want to know someone you just need to be with them. Listen to the way they breathe, the way they talk."

  Dad nodded. "She's right."

  "I know someone like that," I said.

  "How is Donovan?" Mom asked.

  "Don't talk to him much anymore." I focused on my hands. "But it's not him actually. Alistair. He always knows what I'm feeling by the tone of my voice." I could almost hear his voice. "I don't know if I know anyone well enough to do that all the time, but I feel like I listen. I try to."

  "Alistair?" Mom said. "Who's Alistair?"

  "Oh ... I ... didn't I tell you?" I fidgeted with the Pride and Prejudice art on the wall beside me. "It's ... well, you know, he's a friend. A, uh ... a guy."

  "Hm." Dad stood and put his plate in the sink. "And here I was thinking it was a girl friend."

  Mom laughed. "So—"

  "Oh!" I pivoted. "I think I heard Eddie call for me. Be right back."

  They looked at each other as I dashed away. Then I stopped, walked backwards, peeked around the wall to the kitchen, and said, "I'm not avoiding." Even though I totally was and they totally knew it. "We'll talk later."

  I jogged upstairs to Eddie's room. Door was open so I went in. He sat on the bed with his hands behind his back. Smiling. Eddie. Smiling. Prolific moment in the history of all moments.

  "What are you up to?" I said. "Better not be hiding crack back there."

  He laughed the tiniest laugh, then handed me a wrapped box. "Sorry this is late. Meant to give it to you on your birthday, but it wasn't ready."

  "Oh, you didn't have to do anything." I smiled at the box. "Wow. Impressive wrapping."

  He shrugged. "You're stalling. Just open it."

  I didn't like opening presents in front of people. He was right. I always stalled. Peeling back the paper as slow as possible, like now. Not only was I horrible at pretending to like a gift when I couldn't figure out what it was, but I also had trouble getting excited when I really liked something. Most times I'd smile and stare and mutter a word of thanks and smile and stare again. Autumn jumped up and down like a two-year-old when she opened a gift and Donovan did this thing where you just knew he was sincerely grateful even if he was quiet about it. Something in his eyes.

  I missed him.

  "At this rate you might as well spend the night here," he said. "It's nothing big."

  I finally got the paper off and folded it neatly as Eddie rolled his eyes. Then I lifted the lid while staring at him.

  "You're such a jerk," I said, laughing, as I pulled another wrapped box out.

  "Figured if I wrapped it twice it would take three times as long to open."

  "Funny."

  I peeled the paper off and found another wrapped box. I shook my head and unwrapped it. Then saw the gift.

  "Ed..." I ran my fingers along the top. "You made this?"

  A slight smile brightened his face. "It was my first wood carving proje
ct. Took me a while. I wanted it to be perfect."

  "Ed." I couldn't get over it. "Eddie..." I waved my hand in front of me, thensat beside him, cross-legged, and wrapped my arms around his neck. He hugged me and tapped my back. I was his older sister, but his strength both physically and mentally always made me feel younger. He was smart, calculated, and extremely fit. I could feel his masculinity even when he tapped my back. That same strength always made me feel safe when Mom and Dad left us home alone. Or the time he rescued me when I tried to do a back flip off of the pool and knocked my head on the side. He was only fourteen at the time, but managed to pull me to the surface and out of the pool, then ran with my unconscious body all the way inside and up to Mom.

  Still, to this day, he hadn't said, "I love you," to me. But he didn't say it to Mom or Dad either. He was the most internal person I'd ever known.

  I pulled away from the hug and looked at the box again. It was a beautifully stained wooden box with a lock on the front, almost identical to the one Donovan found in the woods. Except the top was engraved with an amazing—I mean, seriously amazing—carving of my face split up like Two Face from Batman and underneath a quote from Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight:

  You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

  "Ed, I love this so much." I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

  "I know it's weird. Harvey becomes a villain and everything, but you're always saying you feel like you have two sides of you and one side is worse than the other. Maybe this could remind you to be the hero."

  "I love it." I looked at him, but he blushed and looked down. "It's so perfect. Thank you."

  "All right, all right." He pushed me off of the bed. "Now let me get back to work."

  I poked his rib. "I looooove youuu, Eddie."

  He laughed. "Kay. See ya later then."

  I turned into the hallway and walked into—

  "What the?" I looked up at him and felt my face fill with heat. "Don ... what are you doing here?"

  He looked over his shoulder and pointed down the steps. "Your mom called and said she needed plumbing repair. Dad's here and asked me to come and help."

  She definitely set this up. Ugh.

  "So ... how are you?" he said.

  "I'm good. Yeah. How about you?"

  "Good." He swung his arms and snapped his fingers. "Things are good."

  "Right ... so..." I looked around. "I'm going on vacation. Going to travel the world to the different locations they shot The Dark Knight trilogy."

  He held back a laugh. "You're so strange, Jazz."

  "That I am. That ... I definitely am."

  "I'll come."

  My face contorted.

  "Can I come, I mean?"

  "No." I squinted. "Wait. Huh?"

  "On the trip. Can I come?"

  "Han wouldn't like that."

  "We're taking a break."

  "What?"

  He nodded.

  "Why?"

  "It's a lot. I can tell you on the plane."

  "Don..." I so badly wanted him to come, but I didn't want to hurt Mom. "Let me think about it."

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Fair enough."

  "If you want her back..." What am I saying? "Do you want her back?"

  He sucked in his bottom lip. "Yeah."

  "You okay?"

  "Fine. Need a vacation. Sounds like you do too."

  "Okay. You can come."

  What?!

  Great, I said inside. What the hell was I thinking? Now I needed to tell Mom I changed my mind and what would Alistair say?

  "Donovan."

  "Yeah."

  "I don't know if it's a good idea."

  "Please, Jazz." He pouted. Totally fake. "I miss you and I really need to get away. Plus, don't know if you heard, but I lost my job. Lay offs."

  "Oh, no. You love that job."

  "Yeah. Loved. Not love." He exhaled. "Oh well."

  "I just ... I'm worried about Han."

  "She broke up with me. I don't think she's the one you need to worry about."

  I hated myself for saying this. But I needed to be there for him like a true best friend would, regardless of my own feelings. "Don, if you love her you'll chase her."

  "It's complicated. Not to mention she's in Korea right now."

  "Why? Is she coming back to work?"

  "She's only there a few days. She said that you needed a few weeks to regroup, so she took the money you gave her and used it for a plane ticket."

  "But she ... you ... weren't you guys so happy together?"

  "Jazz ... can I come or what?"

  I inhaled. A lot of air. And held it there.

  "Were you just going to go alone?" he said.

  "I had some options."

  He tapped my head and walked around me. "Let me know."

  He knew I couldn't say no to him and I hated that. But what I hated more was conflict and I didn't want to deal with telling Mom that I changed plans. She expected it to be mother-daughter time and I honestly didn't want both of them there. One or the other. It could only be Mom or Donovan traveling the world and staying in cozy hotel rooms with me.

  Mom.

  Or the boy.

  Eenie-meanie-miney....

  No. Didn't trust that.

  Okay.

  "Jane?" Eddie popped out of his room. "Why are you banging your head against the wall? Wait." He popped back out of sight and said from his room, "Don't want to know."

  Chapter 23

  Zoe's advice was to take Mom, obviously. Autumn told me to take Donovan, obviously. So I held a quarter in my hand, flipped it over several times, and named Donovan tails and Mom heads.

  Did I mention that I hated making decisions like this?

  I flopped on my bed and sighed, wishing something would happen and one of them would just back out.

  It was 6:15pm when my phone rang and I literally—because what would it be like if it was not literally—thanked it for doing so.

  "Alistair!"

  "Wow. Happy to hear from me, little duck."

  "Yes. I'm in a predicament."

  "Oh, yes? Is this about your trip? Need someone to go with you?"

  "Actually I kinda told two people they could come, but I only want one. Not both."

  "So, just go with the first person you told."

  "How reasonable. That's what I'll do. Thank you."

  "Of course." Something banged in the background. "Want to hear a song I'm writing?"

  "I can't wait."

  My head hit the pillow and I expected to hear a guitar strumming through the phone, but it started with piano, then violins, and drums, and ... he was messing around. I knew it was a recording. Probably a YouTube video. But I leaned back and let the beautiful sound fill my mind anyway. I didn't recognize it. Which was odd. I knew a lot of classical music and even love the Piano Guys who do all of those classical covers of modern songs, but I hadn't heard this.

  I loved it though. So reflective, moody, and swelling with emotion, yet bold and transcendent all at the same time.

  Eyes closed, I soaked it all in, completely forgetting that I was on the phone until Alistair brought me back to reality with his voice, saying my name, drawing out the A.

  I think I almost fell asleep.

  "Did you like it?" he said.

  "Yeah. Who wrote it?"

  "Me," he said. "I know it's not perfect and I've got a long way to go, but I wanted to share it with you now. I'm really excited about this one, Jane."

  "You didn't write it." I laughed. "Nice try. I'm used to Donovan's pranks."

  "Well," he said. "I'm not Donovan and I'm not pretending. I really did write it. I used GarageBand for now."

  I sat up in bed and squinted at the wall. "You did not write that."

  "I'm not sure whether to take your disbelief as a compliment or an insult."

  "Alistair, I'm so jealous. You seriously wrote that?"

  "I ... um..." He cleared his
throat. "I did, yes. I wrote it."

  "Wow." I shook my head. He could compose classical music. He wrote a song just as beautiful as any other real life composer. Life long dream of mine. "Can I hear it again?"

  He stuttered and finally got out the words, "Sure, sure. Yes ... yes, one second."

  I listened with more intensity this time, focusing on every instrument as it entered and exited and brought the song to life. His song. The melody of his own mind and heart. I loved it. Adored it. Wanted to wrap it up and stuff it into my mind so I never lost it.

  Or ask for a CD.

  "Do you like it?" he said as it faded into the background.

  "Like it? It's amazing. I thought you were a rock band type guy, drummer and all."

  "I told you I wasn't enjoying what I did. I hated that. It was okay, but I've always loved writing songs and as a drummer you don't get much say in the matter. I tried my hand at writing a few songs on my guitar, adding lyrics and all, but your love for classical music inspired me to try it out, so I used GarageBand for the instruments and just went with it." I listened like Mom said, to every stammer and breath. I listened to him pour a piece of himself into the phone and into my life. And I heard a smile. Excitement. "Jane?" he said. "Part of it is that I want to finish the ... actually I was ... I was sort of hoping I'd finish it with you. Together we could write it." He coughed. "You know, check a little box off that list of yours."

  The mirror on my closet door, directly across from where I sat on my bed, reflected my raised eyebrows. I actually slapped my hands on the bed beside me and mouthed to my reflection, "Are. You. Kidding. Me?"

  Then I nodded to myself and my grin stretched wider and wider until my cheeks begged for mercy.

  Alistair's voice trailed up to me from the floor. Apparently I dropped the phone.

  I picked it back up. "I don't know what to say."

  "Say yes," he whispered in a breathy, sexy tone.

  "How? You live all the way over there."

  "Well, one of us could visit. Or ... we could send GarageBand files back and forth."

  "What if I suck at it?"

  "You won't."

  "And how do you know?"

  "How do you not?"

  I shrugged at my reflection. "Good question."