by Cat Gardiner
She slammed her palm onto the fine Irish linen tablecloth, the Waterford glasses sloshing water over the rims. Her shrill voice raised yet a full octave higher, proclaiming her epiphany, “I knew it! I knew the moment I gave birth to you that you should have been a boy. You were supposed to be a boy! Unlucky from day one!”
Elizabeth’s eyes shot toward her father, silently begging him to intercede on her behalf when faced with her mother’s embarrassing vitriol for having been born in the first place. She mouthed the words ‘help me’ to him, but Thomas just shook his head in reply.
He knew full well that she was headed back to the city and the solitude of her quiet life ASAP. Whereas, he had to remain with his wife, her nerves and her irrational ranting and gossiping. No, nothing good ever came from defying or correcting Frances – ever.
Gone was the amiable tolerant, good daughter when finally Elizabeth shouted back to her mother, “You’re right! I was born unlucky, unlucky enough to have you as my judgmental, faultfinding mother, because Lord knows there’s no pleasing you! Even if I was gay, which I’m not, that would be my business and not one open for discussion or censure!” Gathering her breath, she momentarily considered maybe she just might be better off coming out of a pretend closet and that way everyone would get off her back about finding a husband.
Frances stood appalled and silent. So was everyone else at the table. An awkward silence hung in the air.
It was Joey who broke the tension, his shocked expression conveying his desire to run for the hills. Here he thought he was meeting a pretty girl with a dynamite body who liked cars, someone he considered taking to a truck show. He certainly didn’t think he’d be meeting someone who wanted to be in the driver’s seat in more ways than one. However, he did consider for a moment that the Love Machine did have special powers. Maybe he could change her mind about the gay-thing. No, he knew he lacked the skill level for that. No manual in the world could teach him that amount of prowess.
“Um … Lizzy … I’m not sure I’m up for the challenge of dating a gay girl.”
“No, no, Joey, you don’t understand. I placed a personal ad in a magazine and it had a typo. I didn’t proofread it before submitting it. Everyone who saw it now thinks I’m looking for a girlfriend.”
“Are you sure? Because my life is complicated enough. I’ve really worked hard to establish my reputation as the best car mechanic in Meryton, and after having done time in Kansas on some bogus, trumped up charge for grand larceny, I really wanted to start a fresh life here in Meryton. I mean, I was willing to take a chance on you, in spite of all the things your mother told me. I’m sure that even though you broke that guy Lucas’s heart, you wouldn’t do that to me – you know, considering I have the Love Machine and all, but I don’t think I can go so far as to date a girl who wants to be … umm … with a … umm … someone else. It could mess me up.”
Elizabeth rested her head in her hand, shaking it from side to side.
Thankfully, Mary promptly filled her wine glass to the brim. When, with tears in her eyes, she looked up into her sister’s compassionate gaze, she knew that other than Christmas day, this would be the last time she ever came home.
Georgiana and Anne stood back joyfully admiring their fine decorating efforts of the penthouse Christmas tree. Delivered that morning to the tune of two hundred dollars, the seven-foot spruce smelled heavenly. Hundreds of little white lights twinkled from within the long-planned “winter wonderland” themed tree. Ice cool shades of green, blue, and aqua ornaments dangled from lit branches amidst sparkling crystals and reflecting mirrors all frosted with artificial snow. Now completed, it could be fit for Macy’s windows on 34th Street – it was that beautiful. Lush and tall, standing in the corner beside the long sliding door overlooking Central Park, it filled the room with enchantment and magic.
The stereo played traditional Christmas music throughout the spacious apartment as a fire burned in the gas hearth. On the mantle above, wintry New York City scenic snow globes rested beside sterling silver reindeer and family photographs within delicately scattered artificial snow.
Music was one of Georgiana’s many creative gifts but she also possessed a great sense of style, and her talent for interior decoration showed in every facet of the Darcy home. Georgiana did the decorating and Darcy did the cooking, and never did they cross into the other’s domain. If they did, it would only mean disaster because she couldn’t boil an egg and he, well, he could make a delicious coq au vin with his eyes closed but lacked any sense of style beyond his attire.
Much like Rick and Darcy, Anne and Georgiana were also polar opposites. Georgiana was long, lean, and fair and Anne was short, stout, and dark. Also like Rick and Darcy, they were as close as can be in spite of their age difference. Anne was thirty-six and Georgiana, nineteen. However, Georgiana was more worldly and experienced in life. She was definitely more comfortable in her own skin. Anne lived a sheltered, unassuming life, mostly hidden away at her mother’s four-story, five-thousand square foot brownstone, in Lenox Hill on Manhattan’s East side of Central Park. Once she came of age, Georgiana became Anne's secret ally, oftentimes, sneaking her cousin out of the house late at night, taking her to all sorts of hot spots in the city. The most recent had been the calendar audition the day before.
Anne beamed in pride. “We did a great job, Georgie! I wish the tree at my home was this beautiful.”
“Well, you’ll just have to spend more time with us to enjoy it. I’m determined to break you free from Rosings Penitentiary.”
“I had a great time yesterday. I can’t remember the last time, if ever, I saw so many sexy men.”
“I can. It was three months ago when I took you to Will’s fire department softball game in Central Park.”
"How could I have forgotten all those hot bodies baking in the sun? Speaking of Will, did he go out? I haven't seen him all afternoon."
"No, he's working the midnight shift tonight. I think he's hanging out in his room until dinnertime, probably resting up before going to the station. Maybe I should check in on him. He's been quiet since yesterday's “big” event, and I want to get the skinny on that Liz girl."
"Is he really interested in her? You do know my mother has been trying to get him to date my friend Cassandra. Frankly, I don't think Cassandra is Will's type, but you never know."
"Didn't Aunt Catherine tell you? Will took Cassandra out last week."
"No!" gasped an astonished Anne.
"Yes! It was a favor to your mom. She told Will how lonely your friend probably is during the holidays, so Will met her for coffee at Café Lalo when he got off duty last Tuesday."
"Did he like her? Will he date her again? I'm shocked! I mean, she's not all that pretty and you know that eye thing she has can turn people away.”
"You know Will's not like that. He's the last person to slight anyone because of a handicap. After all, he's blind as a bat himself. Of course, he would die if that ever got out. God forbid if he ever has to wear his glasses on the job. Anyway, he took Cassandra out as a friend that's all, just wanted to lift her spirits."
"It was a pity date wasn't it?"
Georgiana glanced over her shoulder as she strode down the hallway toward his suite. “No Anne, it was my brother’s big heart. They had a nice time."
She knocked upon his door.
"Come in," Darcy invited.
Georgiana was a little surprised to see her brother sitting at the edge of his bed, strumming his Les Paul acoustic guitar with sheet music strewn beside him. It had been a long time since he picked up his music, particularly during the holiday season.
"You're playing?" she asked.
"Great observation, I’m glad your education at Columbia is paying off, G."
"Shut up.” Sitting on the plush-carpeted floor at his feet, Georgiana crisscrossed her legs Indian-style. "What are you playing?"
"A Christmas song mom taught me years ago. I had forgotten about it and today with you decorating the tree, it j
ust reminded me, that’s all. You know how she loved Christmas.” Darcy looked down at his fingers, placing them on the proper frets. “I’m thinking of playing it for the kids this year when I do the Santa thing down at Presbyterian’s Burn unit.”
“You’d play publicly again?” Georgiana furrowed her brow. This was unprecedented in every way. Her brother hadn’t pick up his music in years, and certainly hadn’t played publicly since he’d froze on stage at the club where he played the year after their parents died.
“Just for the kids.” He strummed the strings for a bit, playing a few chords. “The anniversary of the fire is in twelve days.”
“Hmm … yeah. Will you go with me to the cemetery this year?”
“I’ll let you know.” He stopped playing then shuffled through the sheet music. “What’s up, G?”
"Well, no sense in beating around the bush … What's the story with you and Elizabeth Bennet?"
Darcy stopped his task and knit his eyebrows. "Are you talking about yesterday's most embarrassing moment of my life?"
"Most embarrassing? Somehow I find that hard to believe, but yes, I am talking about the spectacle you made, which I think you have only yourself to blame."
"If I tell you, do you promise not to tease me about it?"
She grinned impishly. "Of course, this is me you're talking to. I’d never tease you.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow, and she chuckled. "Okay, I give you my word only because I think you need some female advice and a receptive ear to be your sounding board."
Sighing, he placed the guitar on the bed, leaned over, and clasped his hands between his knees. This was hard for him and he paused, mustering his humility. “Truthfully, I'm not sure what to make of Elizabeth. Aside from yesterday, I've only really been in her presence three times and only very briefly at that. The first time, I thought she blew me off, and the next two times her caustic tongue and attitude pissed me off so much, my only reaction was to retaliate then flee, but even still, I’m blown away by her.”
“Big, strong Will Darcy is scared of a sharp-tongued woman?”
“Be serious for a second, please. I’m not scared of her. Elizabeth is intelligent, talented, fearlessly athletic, absolutely gorgeous, detail oriented, forthright, and her smile overflows with genuine feeling and enthusiasm. The room lights up whenever she enters. She’s the complete package, but she’s under such a false impression about me that her verbal barbs are almost lethal. Yet, I'm sure if she allows her guard to come down, she and I could actually get along really well. I mean like – really well."
“Complete package? Whoa, you mean to tell me you found nothing wrong with her? You haven’t imagined that she’s a klepto or in the Mafia? She doesn’t have a hairy mole or smell like oregano?”
Darcy looked exasperated. “Please G, this is hard enough without you being a wise ass.”
“Ok, I’m sorry. I’ll shut up.”
“Other than the fact that she’s quick to rush to judgment, no, I can’t find anything, and truth be told, I sort of did the same to her.”
You sound more than intrigued and blown away big brother, you sound interested in pursuing something serious with her."
“She’s the first woman in a long time who makes me feel foolish enough to want to even try to pursue a real relationship, but damn if I know how. We got off on the wrong foot. I was hung over, in a bad mood, and foolishly said some rude things, which she overheard and misinterpreted. I haven’t had the chance to redeem myself. She attacks, and my instinct is to attack back or leave.”
“So resist the urge. I have it on good authority she’s really attracted to you. You’d be pleased to know the words ‘sex slave’ were even thrown out there.”
“Who’s authority, Rick’s? He’s been pushing for her and me to get together since our meeting last Wednesday at the tree lighting.”
“No, not Rick’s - hers.”
“What? You spoke to her? She said sex slave? You’re lying!”
“Yeah I spoke to her. What did you think I would do after that little show you put on - and singing to her no less? Of course, I sought her out and picked her brain a little. I want you to be happy and it was clear to me you’re interested in her. It also became clear that you have a lot of work ahead of you if you are going to woo her and win her.”
Darcy rested his face in his hands and shook his head. “She hates me.”
“Yes and no. She’s of the opinion that you’re a narcissistic asshole who has no character. You can change that opinion by just showing her who you really are.”
Looking up he earnestly implored, “How? What do you recommend I do? Help me.”
“Wait let me get this straight … you’re asking your baby sister’s advice on how to pick up a girl? Mr. I Don’t Need Any Help in That Department.”
“I’m asking. As much as I hate to say the words – I’m begging. This girl has me so turned upside down, I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. First, I thought that she deliberately blew me off at her club, although it turns out, I was mistaken about that, and now you’re telling me she said sex slave like it’s a good thing, yet all her body language and vitriol screams sadist.
“Well, it seems to me you have two perfect opportunities to let your charming nature shine through. Tomorrow’s photoshoot and then your auction date with her. You have to remember that Elizabeth doesn’t know you as we do. I don’t think she has a clue why December is so difficult for you. She doesn’t know the pressures you face in your dangerous job and how sometimes you work a midnight shift only to turn around and work the two to ten the following day all the while trying to keep on top of the family business. What she is interpreting as rudeness and arrogance is really just your grief, exhaustion and stress, not to mention your frustration at Rick, right? The first thing you need to do is dump your crab apple demeanor and the rest will fall into place.”
“Great – I’m screwed because I’m working tour four, the midnight shift, tonight and then going straight into the photoshoot tomorrow morning.” He moaned in frustration.
“Can anyone take your shift tonight?”
“No, I’m working for one of the guys who has a special evening planned for his wife.”
“Well, then all I can say is coffee, smile and don’t pick a fight. Compliment her outfit and her successful auction event yesterday. You have the perfect reason to engage her in pleasant conversation: try to arrange your date to go out with her.”
“There’s something else, something Rick told me. She’s blogging about me.”
“A blog? We have to check that out! Did he send you the address? This could be excellent information, a way to get to know her and the things she likes and looks for in a man. I mean, I know she keeps a list, some sort of criteria, maybe she’s posted that or something.”
“I don’t have the address. Rick refuses to give it to me.”
Georgiana pulled out Elizabeth’s business card from the back pocket of her jeans and flicked it in her fingers. “Don’t worry about a thing, brother dear. I’ll get it. Maybe I’ll invite her out for a holiday cocktail or something.”
Darcy’s smile reached his eyes for the first time in days. “Did I tell you I love you, G?”
“You don’t need to – I know it. I love you, too. And Liz will come to as well.”
Liz’s Blog Post Here
Chapter Nine – Monday, December 9
16 Days Until Christmas
The firefighters of West End Cave made sure the quarters were washed top to bottom and the rigs, both engine and ladder, shined as though brand new until they had to respond to a two-alarm, apartment building fire in Harlem at four in the morning.
Elizabeth arrived to the station rather early and waited patiently. In addition to Charlotte and her team, also currently absent from the premises were Engine 42, Ladder 13 and their crews, two of whom were calendar models: Colin Donahue, the Captain, aka Mr. January, and Mr. December, Darcy.
Of course, she didn’t nee
d to arrive early. In fact, she didn’t need to be there at all but since Rick would be stuck in a mediation hearing he couldn’t postpone, she justified her helpful presence as another set of eyes viewing Charlotte’s photographs when they displayed on her laptop.
On that day Elizabeth dressed, in a word – differently. A red, pencil skirt and white, silk blouse fashionably accentuated her figure. She wore her hair pulled into a high ponytail with a thick lock stylishly wrapped around it. A tad of makeup, a little mascara, and eyeliner behind her favorite Dolce & Gabbana tortoise-shell framed eyeglasses enhanced her already peachy complexion. Plump lips displayed a glossy tint of red, leaving a sexy telltale mark on the white cover of the Starbucks cup clutched in her hand. Looking professional and downright sexy, she leaned against the rescue truck, sipping her black coffee, waiting for the Captain and the others to return.
A few firefighters chosen from stations throughout the city were already in the firehouse’s weight room pumping iron, preparing for the shoot, as others gathered equipment they thought to use for props.
While Elizabeth waited for the station crew to return and the project team to arrive, she surveyed the station’s interior, trying to imagine all the different posing possibilities and camera angles for each set. Red holiday garland rested across the top of a large dry erase board on the back wall, and a huge American flag hung suspended from the ceiling between the designated spaces where both rigs would park when they returned to the station.
She noted all the City commendations and brass memorial plaques along one wall until her keen eye came to rest for a reflective moment on the memorials to the station’s two firefighters who perished on 9/11.
From her current position, she couldn’t see the memorial to the Brotherhood’s most recent loss but was reminded of its sobering presence when her eyes traveled to the rig entrance. Outside the curved brick façade of the station house, a black and purple sash hung solemnly above the wide bay door. A newly installed plaque upon the building commemorated Henry Tilney.
