I Could Write a Book: A Modern Variation of Jane Austen's Emma

by Karen M Cox

  “And who is the lucky fellow who has stolen Jane’s heart?” Mr. Knightley asked politely.

  “His name is Dixon, Michael Dixon…or Mike. She calls him Mike, I think. He’s in the theater too. He’s a director. He directed her in that Off-Broadway production of A Chorus Line. She was in that earlier this year. But it’s not on Off-Broadway anymore. Doesn’t that sound odd—on Off-Broadway? At any rate, A Chorus Line opened on Broadway in July. Jane’s not in that production. I don’t know why. Maybe because she was not one of the principal players. It was a minor part she had, just a minor part. In the Off-Broadway production, I mean.”

  Emma gave her a not-so-patient smile. “Yes, I understand what you mean. And so, she fell in love with this Mr. Dixon while acting in that musical?”

  Helen nodded. “And he asked her to marry him in September. That’s right. It was September. I remember because…”

  “Well, that is marvelous news, Helen.”

  “Oh Emma! Jane will be so delighted to tell you all about it when she gets here.”

  “I doubt that,” Emma muttered, looking at her plate.

  George tried to give her a censoring look, but he couldn’t help the grin he gave her instead. For some reason, Jane Fairfax really seemed to rub Emma the wrong way. He couldn’t see why; Jane was a perfectly nice girl. In fact, she was a kindred spirit—and probably more of a stimulating friend for her than K&W Law’s front office secretary—but as Nina liked to point out, Emma could be unreasonably stubborn once she made up her mind about someone. And she had made up her mind about Jane Fairfax some years ago.

  Delores started to speak up, but Helen interrupted her. “Jane has the lead in the Coles’ Theater production of Camelot. It’s playing locally you know, in March and April, and she’s coming to spend Christmas with us, and then start rehearsals in January. Wasn’t that nice of her to agree to be in a local production? She’s playing Guinevere—that’s the lead role…well, the lead female role, that is. Not the male lead…obviously. But of course, you would know that, wouldn’t you? I didn’t need to tell you.”

  George’s parents exchanged amused looks.

  “I saw Mrs. Cole in town the other day, at the supermarket…was it the supermarket or the bank? Anyway, she said to me, ‘Oh, Helen, we are so pleased to have an actress from New York in our local production!’ Wasn’t that nice of her to say that about Jane?” Helen sighed. “The Coles are such nice people.”

  By this time, everyone was finished with the main course and Emma took the opportunity while Helen was finally catching her breath to offer pumpkin pie and coffee all around. The girls cleared the table and served dessert on plates with autumn leaves around the rim.

  After dinner, George made good on his intention to take Maude for her walk. She saw him come outside, and she was so excited, he had to use his stern voice to keep her from leaping up on him. He had barely hooked her leash and rounded the corner of the house when he saw Emma striding toward him.

  “May I join you?” she asked. “Please?”

  “Of course.”

  She sighed in exasperation. “Thank goodness. I need a break from Helen. She’s about to drive me bats.”

  “Now, now, Emma Kate…”

  She was standing beside him, petting Maude, but then she stopped and pointed her finger at him. “No lectures, Professor. I’m wiped out, and if I have to hear about Jane Fairfax and her Off-Broadway and her Guinevere and her happy news anymore this afternoon, I’m not responsible for what comes out of my mouth.”

  “I know she can be a little trying, but Helen is one those people who requires some extra grace.”

  “I’ll say. You know, I’m starting to actually feel a little sorry for Jane Fairfax having to put up with that incessant chatter for four whole months.”

  “So, which is it: Do you dislike Jane or do you feel sympathy for her?”

  “Both, I suppose.”

  “Emma…”

  “Actually, I never said I disliked Jane. Not once.”

  “Helen and Delores will be thrilled to see her again.”

  “No doubt.”

  They walked under the bare branches as the sun waned in the late afternoon sky. It had cleared up considerably since the morning, although it was still brisk. Emma’s nose and cheeks were pink from the cold wind. She drew in a deep breath.

  “I’ve made a decision.”

  “About?”

  “I’m going to try and be more friendly to Jane while she’s here this winter. And don’t give me that look.”

  “What look is that?”

  “That smug know-it-all look you have, like Emma’s your little puppet and you’re pulling her strings.”

  “I’m not giving you any kind of look.” The smile came unbidden to his lips. “But I’m glad you’re making the effort. Why the change of heart?”

  “I wouldn’t call this a change of heart. I’ve never had anything against Jane, except how everyone talked her up all the time, but that’s not her fault.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “I’ve been thinking that when it comes right down to it, she and I do have some things in common.”

  “You do.”

  “And we’re connected by family.”

  “True.”

  “Well, maybe I was a little jealous of her. In the past.”

  “You’re a bright and beautiful girl, Emma Kate. What would you have to be jealous about?”

  “I’m no Off-Broadway actress, that’s for sure.”

  “I’ve never known you to have aspirations for the theater.”

  “I don’t. It’s just…”

  He waited, curious as to what she’d say.

  “I don’t have any aspirations, George.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m going to graduate college in six months, and I have no idea what I want to do with my life.”

  “I assumed you would continue to care for your father and manage the house on Hartfield Road.”

  “Yes, I’ll have to do those things, but without school, I’ll have a lot of extra time on my hands. What will I do with myself? Sometimes I just wonder…”

  George let the silence hang in the air, resisting the urge to fill it with platitudes or worse, his own suggestions. Years of practicing law had taught him to offer nothing when he had nothing to contribute. Perhaps it was time to apply that concept when dealing with Emma.

  Emma’s voice became very small. “I want to do something that matters.”

  Who knew she thought this much? How interesting that, after knowing her all her life, she could still surprise him.

  “You’re speechless, I see. I’ve astonished you with my previously unimagined seriousness.”

  “Not at all.” He reached for her elbow to point out a tree root in her path, but instead of stepping over it, she skirted around next to him.

  After another moment of silence, he answered, considering his words carefully, as he intuited that his response might be a kind of turning point.

  “I’m confident that, in time, you will find the sense of purpose that you seek. As you go through the process of finding it, though, I might advise you to keep two things in mind. One, I think you’re in for a lifelong search. Finding a purpose isn’t a finish line at which you suddenly arrive. It’s an ongoing journey, shaped by your time and place in the world, by your talents, and by your obligations. You may be one of those people, Emma Kate, who is blessed and cursed with more than one life’s purpose. And two…”

  “Yes?”

  “You do matter—to your family, to your friends.”

  “I do?”

  “Of course you do. And”—he hesitated—“well, you matter to me.”

  “Aw, shucks, Mr. Knightley.” She playfully punched his arm, but her smile beamed and her face flushed with pleasure.

  They moved out from under the trees and he looked across the field. A bulldozer sat on the other side, glowing a garish orange in the sunlight.

  “Anoth
er street in the subdivision?”

  “What?” She followed his gaze. “Oh, yes. The cancer grows.”

  “Progress.”

  “So they say.”

  “We can turn back.”

  “Let’s.”

  He turned back under the shade of the trees, toward the main house.

  Emma held back a branch for George. “It looks like Nina and Bob are going to have company for Christmas too.”

  “Perhaps they will, and then again, maybe not.”

  “It seems you’ll finally get to meet the elusive Frank Weston.”

  “Hmmph.” George had no desire to meet a spoiled, overgrown schoolboy with jock for brains.

  “Well, I, for one, am looking forward to seeing Frank again. I’m glad his mother’s finally letting him visit with Bob. It’s been years since he’s been here. Rosemarie Churchill really is a bossy, frightful woman.”

  “And Frank Weston is a grown-up, twenty-two-year old man. If he wanted to visit his father, he would have found a way to do so already.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, George. You answer to no one. You run the farms and the law office, preside over your Woman of the Month club, and steer your own life. Frank, on the other hand, is just starting out. He still relies on his parents and has to stay in their good graces. His father is more easygoing than his mother, so Frank bends to Rosemarie’s will because Bob won’t impose his.”

  “Perhaps.”

  They walked in silence, until some minutes later, George went on.

  “I suppose I don’t like the way he keeps leading Bob and Nina to believe he’ll visit, and then, at the last minute, he manufactures some asinine reason not to come. It’s rude.”

  Emma shook her head. “I don’t think Bob and Nina are quite as critical of him as you are. They understand his situation and his temperament. Therefore, they understand his behavior and make allowances for it. They’re showing him ‘grace,’ in your words. You know, a lot of people really liked Frank back in high school, including yours truly. He’s a barrel of fun.”

  “I can’t fathom why you are standing there defending him.”

  “Technically, I’m not standing—I’m walking.”

  “Smart aleck. What I mean is, people give Frank Weston the benefit of the doubt because he makes such pretty excuses. But words are cheap. Polite behavior is a universally admired trait, an indication of integrity, and everyone understands that when they see it. A man’s actions are what show his good character.”

  “Yes, sir, Professor, sir,” Emma said and gave him an exaggerated salute.

  “I’m just saying…” George muttered, not saying much of anything else until they returned to the house.

  Seventeen

  December 22, 1975

  The roar of the university fight song echoed through the coliseum as the basketball team returned for the second half of the game. I waived my little paper pom-pom in the air and cheered loudly, although it was hard to sing the words above the pep band. From his seat right beside me, Tim Elton showed his debonair smile and joined in the song.

  Nina and Bob had bought a group of tickets, which was quite a coup; everyone around these parts was crazy about university basketball and the games were always sold out. Originally, the party had included the Westons, their friends the Coles, Jack and Isabel, Mary Jo, and me. But Mary Jo picked up some kind of virus and couldn’t join the fun. At the last minute, Nina asked Tim if he’d like to go, to which he gave a resounding ‘yes’. He was an alumnus and an avid basketball fan too. Helen and Aunt Delores hated the noise of basketball games, so they were to join the group at Nina’s afterward for an informal Christmas party.

  George Knightley was attending a hospital Christmas party with Julianne-the-doctor early in the evening, and then they were going to be at Nina’s too. I was anxious to meet the new lady in George’s life—actually fretted over it. He needed a special kind of woman to tolerate his quirks and his schedule, and I wasn’t sure this Julianne person had what it took. He had so many responsibilities, and a doctor would be very busy with duties of her own. I didn’t know how that would work out for them, and I wanted to see them together to judge for myself if Julianne would suit my friend.

  At the game, Tim sat on one side of me and my sister on the other. It was quite a blowout, so no one was too worried about the outcome for the home team.

  “Would you like a Coke?” Tim asked me, putting his arm around the back of my chair.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Some popcorn, then?”

  “Tim, you’ve already offered and, or bought me a hot dog, a pennant flag, nachos, a chocolate chip cookie, and enough soda to float me away for good.”

  “I like indulging you.”

  “Thank you”—I smiled sweetly—“but really, I’m fine.”

  “As you wish, my lady.”

  Isabel excused herself to go to the restroom, and Tim went down a few rows to talk to a friend from college. Jack moved over into Izzy’s seat and leaned his head over to speak in a low voice.

  “You got a thing for Elton?” he asked, nonchalant and serious at the same time. It was a trick only Jack could manage to pull off.

  “What?” I stared at Jack, and then turned back to watch the mascot run around the gym floor, trying to scare up some enthusiasm from a lackadaisical crowd. “I most certainly do not have a thing for Elton.”

  “Then I suggest you stop encouraging him.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You’re going to find yourself in an awkward situation if you don’t put the kibosh on that flirtatious banter.”

  “Jack Knightley, you are insane! I am not flirting with Tim Elton—at all!”

  “Looks like it from over here. Probably looks like it from where he’s sitting too.”

  “You’re grossly mistaken.”

  Jack shrugged. “No skin off my nose. I’m just telling you, he might be reading those smiles and all those reminders about your summer tennis lessons as interest.”

  “Shows what you know. I’m trying to get him to ask Mary Jo Smith out, but he’s dragging his feet.”

  Jack looked at me, dark eyes piercing my bravado. “He’ll never ask her out. Not as long as he thinks he has a shot with you.”

  “I’m telling you, you’re wrong. Tim is not interested in me. Not one iota.”

  “Emma!” Tim yelled from four rows down.

  When I waved, he pumped his arm back and forth—a big smile on his face. “This is my old college roommate, Chuck!”

  I waved again, and Tim looked at me with an even bigger grin, making a gesture like he was drinking and pointing at me.

  Jack smirked. “He’s asking if you want another drink.”

  “I know what he’s asking,” I hissed in annoyance. I shook my head “no” and snatched up the program Tim bought me, burying my nose in it, and pretending not to notice either Tim’s attentions or Jack’s smug I-told-you-so look.

  I spent all of halftime weighing my conversations with Tim more carefully. Not that I really thought Tim had a thing for me. There was still hope he was interested in Mary Jo, and I tried to talk her up even more in the second half.

  But I was running out of time. Now it was almost the end of the game, and the crowd was beginning to disperse early since the score wasn’t even close. Nina and Bob had already made the trek back to their car, so they could prepare to receive their guests. Jack and Isabel were packing up and making noises like they were ready to go as well.

  “Not much of a fan, are you?” I teased Jack. “You’re not even staying till the end of the game.”

  “For your information, Isabel is tired and wants to go back to Nina’s. And it will take forever to get out of the parking lot.” He looked between Tim and me with feigned innocence. “I have a great idea. Maybe Tim would offer to stay with you until the final buzzer, since you’re such a dedicated basketball fan. What do you say, Elton? Can I trust you to bring my sister-in-law safely to her aunt’s house?
”

  I shook my head “no”, but Tim’s sense of chivalry had been called to the forefront.

  “Of course, you can rest assured that the fair Emma will arrive safe and sound as soon as the game is over.” He turned to me. “We won’t leave until you give the word, and then your chariot awaits, my lady.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Jack, but there was no escaping the situation now. I just had to bear it as best I could and hope Tim would forget about it in the morning. I probably should offer to drive. He must have had a little too much beer.

  After the game, as we walked to his car, Tim tried twice to put an arm around my shoulders and once to take my hand.

  I held it out, palm up. “Keys, please.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You’ve had too much to drink, Tim. I’m going to drive.”

  “I only had one beer during pre-game.”

  I began to get a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.

  Tim took his key and unlocked my door. Once I was seated, he leaned down and asked in a syrupy voice, “All set, honey?”

  Oh, good grief! “Yes, thank you.”

  He shut the door and jogged around to the other side, humming the fight song as he started the engine.

  While we waited in line to get out of the parking lot, he reached over and tried again to snag my hand, but I leaned forward, digging in the glove box.

  “Don’t suppose you have a Kleenex in here, do you? I think I’m getting Mary Jo’s cold.” There. That should keep him off me.

  “You were over at her place nursing her, weren’t you? That’s so like you, Emma.” He looked at me with puppy-dog eyes and sighed, a sickening sound that made the back of my neck itch.

  “You’re the kindest, most generous person in the world, helping out a sick friend, but really, you need to keep yourself well. For your father’s sake—and for all of us that care about you.” He reached behind the seat and pulled out a box of tissues, smiling all the while, and leaving his arm up on the seat behind my shoulders.

  “You know, Emma, I couldn’t help but notice how nice you look tonight. That bright blue really suits you.”

  “Thanks.” I leaned against the door, staring out into the night. “It’s starting to snow.”