While she had rushed to get ready, and during the mostly quiet drive to the trailhead, Elizabeth had pondered what would happen when Darcy comprehended his mistake. She accepted that this would tell her much about the man. Each new facet he had exposed to her had been wonderful. However, if he took himself too seriously, if he could not find humor in the ridiculous, Elizabeth doubted they would ever have a true friendship. If Will Darcy looked at the morning with a sense of cheer, then she would gain two Darcys as a buddy, not just one.
“Elizabeth Bennet. You are a brat, and so is the woman at the store who told us about this hike.” He rubbed his chin. “I think, Gianna, we have been initiated into some sort of secret society and we are forever sworn to lie like a dog if anyone should ask about the ease of traversing Lying Dog Creek.” He looked directly at Elizabeth. “Am I correct?”
“Oh, yeah.” Tilting her head to the side, she looked closely at him. He was relaxed. No tight fists. No gritting teeth. No flexed arms and tense shoulders. “You both now officially belong to the fraternity/sorority of the Pull-One-Over-On-the-New-Guys-in-Town Club.”
“Since I’m a writer, I’ll be the secretary,” Will offered.
“And I’ll be the President and my first command is that we run downhill all the way to the car so I can put lotion on my stinky feet,” proclaimed Gianna. “Last one down is a lying dog.”
She took off like a bullet.
“What’s my position?” mused Elizabeth.
Smiling, he grabbed her hand. “Come on, minion, we have a president to keep up with.”
Elizabeth’s grin came easily at his reference to the boxers. He definitely was not the man she had thought him to be. She would have two true friends. Her smile grew as she kept pace with the man who intrigued her more and more each and every day.
SIX
By the time they reached the trailhead, Elizabeth had a plan. Posing Darcy and Gianna on each side of the Lying Dog Creek Trail sign, she captured pictures of the siblings with expressions of happy exhaustion on their faces. She would document their memories whenever she had the opportunity. At the end of the summer, before they headed home, she would present them with a picture book to enjoy for years to come.
She had never seen the like in a casual setting. “What are you doing?” Elizabeth was stunned. After Darcy retrieved the picnic hamper and blanket from the trunk of his car, he settled down with a knife and fork to eat his fried chicken.
“What?” Puzzled at her outburst, he stopped mid-slice. “This?” He held up his dinnerware.
“Yes, this.” Shaking her head, she wondered at the man. “You don’t use silverware for fried chicken. It’s not done.”
Aligning the utensils evenly at an angle across his plate, Darcy wiped his hands on his cloth napkin after using it to brush the non-existent crumbs from his lips.
“You see, that is the thing about you Americans. I have tried to fit in. I say ‘can’t’ instead of cannot and ‘don’t’ instead of do not. I drink more soda and beer than I have ever done and no longer keep my shirts tucked in. I have held pizza and hamburgers and french fries in my fingers as I dipped them in what you call ‘ranch’ or ‘goop.’ I drive on the wrong side of the road and leave my umbrella home when it rains. All of this I have done to fit into your culture, Elizabeth.” He tucked the napkin under the edge of his plate and retrieved a clean spare for his lap. “However, when it comes to ribs slathered in barbeque sauce or a piece of chicken with a coating that is so crispy it crunches when I bite into it, I will use my fork and knife as I have been taught since infancy. I will not bend on this.”
Gianna snorted. Then she bit into the chicken leg she was holding between her thumb and fingers, licking them when she was done. “What?” She looked at her brother. “I’ve adapted.”
Immediately, Darcy responded by over-exaggerating his knife skills as his sister acted the caveman by tearing the meat from the bone with her teeth. Elizabeth grabbed her camera and snapped picture after picture, even taking a short video clip while they paid her no attention at all.
This man had the power to make her smile—and feel warm and fuzzy inside. Watching him as he tried to cut Gianna’s meal into tiny pieces while he teased her about the zillions of times he had done the same when she was little, Elizabeth was concerned that William Darcy, soon to be leaving for New York, was slowly chipping away at a defenseless corner of her heart. She was beginning to feel the danger.
They had little in common. Their backgrounds were dissimilar, their personalities were like black compared to white, and their economic statuses were polar opposites from each other. Whenever the Darcys were at the apartment and Elizabeth’s family dropped by, Elizabeth could see Will pulling away as he tried to protect his sister from the verbal onslaught. Gianna wasn’t having any of it. She enjoyed watching the antics of Lydia and Kitty as they competed for their mother’s attention. The Bennet family was a whole new world of freedom to a regimented, pre-teen girl.
Elizabeth had no doubt that Darcy lectured Gianna when they left to be nothing like those young Bennet girls. At first, it angered Elizabeth. Nonetheless, she remembered the multitude of occasions she had tried to restrain her siblings from acting improperly in company. She was spinning her wheels, as her efforts never worked.
He confused her. He irritated her. He pleased her and he thrilled her. She was going crazy, and William Darcy was the cause.
He looked directly at her and smiled. Even though she was seated, her knees wobbled.
***
Over the next two weeks, Darcy took his sister to ride a vintage, wooden carousel horse as well as a go-cart track to race cars. They went to museums, botanical parks, attended a magnificent production by Cirque du Soleil, and went jet skiing on one of the lakes. In between these activities, the brother and sister hiked forest trails and drove to the beach to run barefoot in the sand. Each time they planned an excursion, it was to be only the two of them. Yet, each time, they somehow finagled Elizabeth’s attendance, usually under the guise of her being the official travel photographer.
She was having a blast. Her editor’s son broke his leg in a motorcycle accident (Elizabeth sent flowers and a card) so the pressure was off to get the final draft of her latest story written. Grateful she was not being distracted by her work, and that she had a sizable sum banked for emergencies, Elizabeth participated in the activities with the enthusiasm that was her nature.
The Saturday after the three rode bicycles around a ten-mile bike path, responsibility bit Elizabeth in the bum. July was slipping away and canning season was in full swing. When Darcy called to arrange a time for picking her up to hike a trail to another waterfall, for the first time, Elizabeth begged off.
“I’m sorry, Will. I need to go to the produce stand before the last of the corn and green beans are gone. Peaches are falling from the trees, and I need a box of cucumbers as well as some fresh dill to make pickles.” She sighed, knowing how much hard work was ahead of her. Having a full pot of water boiling on her stove for the next two days would heat her tiny kitchen into an inferno. Nevertheless, having beautiful jars of home-canned produce on her shelves was a thing of joy. The sense of accomplishment was amazing when a pint was opened and served during the cold winter months, making it worth all the work in the end. “Darcy, do you think Gi would want to help me? It is an education, in itself, as we pick the produce from the fields, then lug it all home before we spend the rest of the weekend preserving the food. I’m certain she has not done anything like this, and it would be good for her to know how to get fruit and vegetables from the farm to the table.”
He was quick to agree. “Do you think I might be able to help?”
“Boy, do I!” Elizabeth was appreciative. “Those crates get heavy. We can be the brains and you can be the muscle, if you don’t mind?” She tried desperately not to be distracted by the mental image of his flexed arms. “The temperature is cool now, but dress in layers and wear shoes that can be hosed down later, because i
t will be as hot as Hades in the kitchen and they irrigate the fields so the ground will be muddy before the sun is high in the sky to dry out the dirt.”
By the time Darcy and Gianna arrived at the apartment, dozens of empty jars had been run through the dishwasher and the needed tools were set out on the kitchen counter. A small cooler with bottles of ice water and plastic bags containing wet, soapy washcloths were put in the back of Jane’s little pick-up truck.
“We can take my car, if you prefer?” Darcy offered.
“Heavens, no. I like to pick my peaches when they are ripe. If you do not pack them correctly, the bottom ones are squashed and juice runs through the slats in the wooden crates onto your carpet. The pick-up will work just fine.”
“Where’s Jane?” Gianna asked.
“Caroline wanted Charlie to take her shopping so Jane took my car to Mom’s house.” Elizabeth locked her front door and got behind the driver’s seat. The three of them were a tight fit, but the farm was only two miles down the road. They would be spending very little time inside the vehicle. “Jane made strawberry and raspberry freezer jam last month. I hate to stand at a hot pot and stir for as long as it takes and she doesn’t mind. So, she does the sweets and I do the savory.”
“Peaches aren’t savory,” Darcy observed.
“True. We won’t get to them until tomorrow when Jane will make jam and I will use the rest to make a fresh peach pie with homemade vanilla bean ice cream. The rest of them we will slice and put in jars. It’s easier when both of us do it as you have to work together to get them into jars as fast as you can.”
Both of the Darcys had a glazed look in their eyes as they hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. They would find out soon enough.
Gianna ate more peaches than she put into the box. Juice ran down her hand towards her elbow, so the dust and dirt coated her arm in a thin layer. By the time they left the orchard, she had dug out one of the washcloths to clean the stickiness from her fingers. Elizabeth loved Gianna’s delight when little, red ladybugs landed on the leaves, and grasshoppers jumped from the grass lining the fields whenever they walked close. The young girl kept to the task when it came time to pick green beans. Her brother, on the other hand, carefully inspected each individual bean to see if it was the required length, width, and a healthy green color both front and back. Elizabeth chuckled to herself. Had he brought a ruler, he probably would have used it. Rather than think him silly, she appreciated his care.
Back at the apartment, Darcy carried the heavy crates to the dining room table. Each time, he would remove his shoes before entering through the front door. Then he would put them on as he left to get another box. Again, Elizabeth chose to keep silent and not tease, out of appreciation for not having to sweep and mop when they were done.
Gianna was fascinated with the journal Elizabeth kept in the kitchen. It was filled with recipes passed down from her grandmother, along with instructions for storing food. Elizabeth’s mother had started teaching her daughters how to cook and keep a clean home from the time they turned ten years of age. She had impressed on each of her daughters the importance of being prepared in case economic circumstances changed and they had to make do with far less than they were used to.
As Darcy’s sister flipped through the pages, she read aloud some of the topics. Tilting her head towards her shoulder, confusion covering her face, she asked, “What’s an iron and why would I need to know how to use one?”
It took a monumental effort not to laugh. As Elizabeth pondered how to respond, her brother spoke up. “I think we need to purchase another journal for you to copy as much of this information as possible.” He ran his hand over his face. “An iron is used to take the wrinkles out of shirts. We do not use one because I take our clothes needing pressed to the dry cleaners for them to steam the wrinkles smooth. However, Elizabeth has been taught to do this for herself.”
“You do?” Gianna asked her.
“I do.” Elizabeth continued cutting the corn away from the cobs.
“Why? Will makes enough money from his writing so we don’t have to do things like that. We have a housekeeper and a cook. And he has a gardener to care for the lawn. Don’t you earn enough to afford those people?”
“Gianna!” Darcy’s voice was filled with censure. “That is none of our business. Apologize now.”
Elizabeth put the knife down and rinsed her hands. Drying them on a towel as she walked to where Darcy’s sister was seated, she took Gianna’s hand in hers.
“It’s okay that you asked because you are trying to understand my circumstances rather than just be nosy, right?” When the girl nodded, Elizabeth squeezed her fingers gently. “I thought so. Gianna, the truth is that, with Jane and me living together and sharing expenses, I can afford to hire people to care for me. One day, I may do that very thing. Right now, it’s still relatively new living out on my own. Therefore, I’m comfortable with doing the work around the house. I’m pretty sure one day all that will change, but I get a tremendous amount of satisfaction from doing the work myself. When the apartment has been cleaned from front to back and the laundry is done, I have a sense of accomplishment that brings me joy. Tomorrow evening, when Jane and I place the filled jars on the shelves, the vivid greens and yellows of the vegetables and the pickles will look lovely against the dark reds and purples of the jams that are already there. When the peaches are sliced and ready, they will add another layer of color to our pantry. I will go to my bed tomorrow night with the smell of peaches and cinnamon from the pie I will eat knowing that I will have food in my cupboards even if I didn’t sell another book for months.”
“I am sorry, Lizzy. I shouldn’t have asked.” Gianna’s chin dropped.
“No. Don’t be sorry.” Elizabeth glanced at her brother before she continued. “We never know what tomorrow will bring. I imagine you have given lengthy consideration to what you expect your grownup life to be.” She tapped her free hand on Gianna’s forearm. “Look at me, Gi.” Waiting until the girl responded, Elizabeth continued, “I am not being snide when I ask you to think about what would happen to Caroline Bingley should her brother lose his job and his trust fund. How would she survive if she had to take care of herself and her home? Has she ever earned money on her own? Does she know how to budget money to save for an emergency? Can she type a resumé and live without credit cards?”
“I doubt it.” Gianna flipped another page in Elizabeth’s journal. Then she gave her full attention to her brother. “Will, maybe we should spend less time making memories of places and activities so I can gain the knowledge I might need in the future. I’ve loved the last few weeks and I will never forget all we have done together. But, I think we could both benefit from the study of Lizzy’s book. Would you do that for me? With me?”
Elizabeth held her breath.
“If Elizabeth does not mind, I think your plan is sound. However, I will not expect you to iron my shirts or cook for me every night,” he insisted, smiling as he did so.
“Oh, good grief, no! Will, you have it all wrong.” Gianna snickered. “You can do the ironing and the cooking. I’ll know enough by the time the summer is over to supervise.”
Amid the laughter, one phrase rocked Elizabeth’s world. The summer is over. Unbeknownst to her, Will and Gianna Darcy had filled a far larger portion of that pumping organ in her chest than she had imagined because the thought of them packing up and leaving hurt. It hurt really bad.
SEVEN
Their days were filled with activities where Elizabeth’s appreciation of both Darcys grew by leaps and bounds. When it was just the three of them, Darcy completely let down his guard. He was fun and was, on occasion, amazingly funny. Elizabeth no longer minded when his gaze stayed fastened on her as they went about a variety of tasks. Gianna was enthusiastic until the bathrooms needed scrubbed. Grumbling about learning “toilet training” all over again kept Elizabeth in stitches.
Every single night, after the house quieted down, her phone would ring.
The first time Darcy called her to chat about the day, Elizabeth had been wary, expecting him to have been dissatisfied with how she dealt with his sister or some other negative thought. By the end of the second week, if he was seconds later than his normal time to call, she noticed. And she fretted.
“I was wondering…would you accept an invitation to dinner and a movie tomorrow night? For just the two of us, I mean,” Darcy hesitantly inquired.
Elizabeth had been expecting Darcy to ask for some time alone. With Gianna present, they weren’t able to discuss freely any concerns he had about his growing sister. Therefore, it was easy to agree to his plan. Although, he truly didn’t have to take her out. They could have just as easily met for coffee somewhere.
She was shocked! Floored! Gobsmacked! Stunned speechless!
Elizabeth was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt—fortunately, that had no stains on the front—when she opened the door to him the next evening. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes scanned him from his spotless leather loafers to his dress slacks, light blue, button-down shirt, his tweed jacket, freshly shaved face, and perfectly combed hair. The man was drool-worthy. Period! However, it was the bouquet of pink roses where her roving eyes finally landed.
A date! This was no ordinary scheduled meeting of minds. Will Darcy had asked her out on a date and she had completely misjudged his purpose! She wanted to head-smack herself on the door frame.
Instead, she invited him in, grabbed a vase from under the kitchen sink and ran to her bedroom after telling him she would be “just a minute.”
Stripping off quickly, she grabbed her best dress from her closet. It was a sleeveless, white sundress dotted with red poppies that looked like brilliant red blobs from a distance. When she saw it in the dress shop, it had been love at first sight. About two weeks prior, she had found a pair of strappy, high-heeled, patent leather sandals that begged to be hers. Finding the perfect dress to match had been a gift.
Something: Old, New, Later, True: A Pride & Prejudice Collection Page 11
