As soon as the words left Ellie’s lips, the four of them froze in a state of panic. If none of them were making the scratching noise, then who was? Sitting up, their eyes darted about the room frantically for any sign of the culprit. Was it a rat? Or worse, a thief?!? When the noise came yet again, it sent them all under the sheet, rattled.
“I think it’s coming from the door!” Marianne whispered, her voice shaky.
“Is someone trying to break in?” Margaret whispered back curiously.
“Shhh!” Ellie hushed her. Margaret’s question was not helping the situation at all.
When the scratching noise sounded again for the fourth time, they stiffened with fear. The noise was most certainly coming from behind the front door. Terrified, Diane worked up her courage and rose from the bed, slowly putting on her slippers. Following their mother’s example, Marianne and Ellie got up as well while Margaret stayed huddled in bed. As they moved toward the door, Diane picked up the broom that was leaning against the wall while Marianne grabbed the unhooked phone, and Ellie, a pillow. They began creeping on tippy toes, closing in on their target, when the scratching occurred again, sending them into each other’s arms with muffled screams. Slowly parting moments after the noise had stopped, they began to move once again just as another set of scratchings came from behind the door. In the midst of her fear, Diane noted that the noise was getting closer in frequency, signaling that they had better act now or be sorry. With shaking hands she turned the deadbolt but made sure to leave the chain lock attached. Looking at both Marianne and Ellie to confirm that they were ready, to which they nodded, Diane opened the door and with screams they held up their ‘weapons’, ready to attack. To their surprise, it was neither a thief, nor a rat, but merely a lonely dog sitting outside their door.
“Doggie!” Margaret exclaimed, jumping off the bed and coming to stand beside her mother.
Aghast, Marianne studied the animal as it cocked its head with curiosity, observing their raised arms and ashen faces. She attempted to stifle a giggle as she wondered what the dog would say if it could talk—“I come in peace,” probably. Sighing, she took a deep breath, realizing their fright had been over nothing but a stray dog, and what started as a giggle bubbling up from inside her soon launched into a laughing fit that spread to each of them.
Once they had calmed down, Diane examined the animal for a collar but found none. “He must belong to somebody around here,” she stated, continuing to pet the dog alongside Margaret.
With abdomen sore from laughter, Ellie noticed for the first time what was in Marianne’s hand. Her sister had chosen a phone as her method of protection. “Marianne, a phone?” Ellie questioned teasingly. “What would you have done with that? Talked him to death?”
Marianne blushed, and then pretended to be defensive, replying, “I would have dialed ‘M’ for when you were murdered!”
“Marianne, you watch too many scary movies,” Ellie said, catching her sister’s reference to the classic Hitchcock film.
Meanwhile, Marianne wasted no time in examining what Ellie herself had selected as her weapon—a pillow. “And what were you going to do with the pillow? Hit him with it?” she taunted.
“Oh, you mean like this?” Ellie answered with attitude, smacking Marianne with the pillow and starting an all-out pillow fight which soon included everyone.
When they were all wiped out and resting again on the bed, one could hear a round of contented sighs—their first night in their new home had certainly been a memorable one.
The next morning held no hint of the fun and laughter from the previous evening. As Margaret sat at the kitchen counter eating breakfast, Ellie reviewed their financial paperwork beside her. Their circumstances were, unfortunately, no laughing matter. It was apparent to Ellie that both she and Marianne would have to get jobs soon if they wanted to maintain their present situation.
Marianne joined them in the kitchen, towel drying her hair as she began looking through the unemptied boxes for a desired appliance. “Mom, which box is the toaster in?” she asked Diane, who was still in bed.
Saving her mother a reply, Ellie answered, “It’s in the box next to the rocking chair.” She pointed to a large container which Marianne quickly opened, smiling as she pulled the toaster out.
A knock at the door summoned their attention and Marianne set down the appliance to answer it, revealing Mr. Middleton.
“Hello! Good morning!” he exclaimed, full of energy. Stepping inside, Mr. Middleton only then recognized that Diane was still lying on the mattress in the middle of the living room. “Oh, I didn’t know your mom would still be sleeping,” he apologized, looking at his watch to make sure he hadn’t arrived too early. Mr. Middleton was somewhat relieved to find it was already 10:10 a.m.
Ellie watched as her mother slowly sat up. “It’s okay, Don,” Diane answered heavily, “I was just resting.”
Mr. Middleton nodded with satisfaction and rubbed his hands together with renewed excitement. “I just came over with an invite for dinner tonight,” he began with a twinkle in his eyes, “Mrs. J. is cooking up quite a meal for you, and we’re going to eat outside!”
“Dinner!” Marianne brightened, setting down the piece of bread she was about to toast. The breakfast item now seemed unfulfilling knowing they’d be served delicious food sometime later that day. What a treat it would be! They hadn’t had a decent meal since leaving their previous home.
“I want to go!” Margaret shouted with excitement, her mouth still full of cereal.
“Then it’s settled!” Mr. Middleton laughed at their enthusiasm. “Now,” he said, eager to get down to business, “if you’re ready, I can start helping you get set up!”
The long worked day ended with a beautiful, warm evening. Everything now unpacked, Ellie, Margaret, Marianne and Diane had put on their sundresses and shorts and were ready to head outdoors for the enjoyable dinner party. Closing up the somewhat assembled apartment, they walked together to Mrs. Jennings’s and Mr. Middleton’s soiree with grumbling stomachs.
“I can’t wait!” Marianne salivated, her taste buds ready for some real food. “Something to eat other than bread and peanut butter!”
“Are you sure we can’t bring Rover?” Margaret asked her mother as she looked longingly back at the apartment.
“Who’s ‘Rover’?” Ellie asked, not recalling anything in their possession that was referred to by that name.
“The dog,” Margaret replied matter-of-factly.
“You named him?” Ellie asked incredulously, to which Margaret nodded, a huge smirk transforming her face.
“He’ll have to stay in the apartment,” Diane replied firmly. “But you can ask Mrs. Jennings tonight if she knows who he belongs to.”
“If no one owns him, can I keep him?” Margaret asked animatedly.
Ellie looked pleadingly at her mother, hoping for an solid no. But to her disappointment, Diane answered, “We’ll see.”
“Yes!” Margaret exclaimed, running ahead to greet Mrs. Jennings and Mr. Middleton. The duo were busy setting food on a picnic table located on the grassy lawn the complexes shared.
“There you are!” Mrs. Jennings smiled at Margaret, “Do you want to help me with the silverware?” Margaret nodded and began placing the utensils about the checkered tablecloth. “I’m glad you could all come!” Mrs. Jennings welcomed Diane and her two eldest as they approached next. “Don told me about all the work he’s done in getting you settled—dinner is certainly the least I can contribute!”
Mr. Middleton, who had retreated inside the manager’s building, emerged with a platter full of delicious-looking hot dogs and hamburgers. Marianne eyed them hungrily.
“Yum!” Margaret licked her lips, smelling the aroma.
“Everybody sit down!” Mrs. Jennings encouraged as she peeled saran wrap from the potato salad, consequently getting some on her finger. “Delightful!” she exclaimed in response after tasting her State Fair winning recipe. “Will you pray over the
food, Don?” Mrs. Jennings asked her son-in-law once all of them were settled.
Don nodded and they bowed their heads. “Bless this food, Lord, and thank you for bringing these wonderful ladies to us,” he winked at the peeking Margaret, “They make a wonderful addition to our lives. Amen.”
Margaret wasted no time in recounting their episode with “Rover” the evening before, and was delighted to find that the dog must have been a pet of the previous owner. Mrs. Jennings therefore encouraged the youngster to keep the animal, if indeed her mother approved. With promises of a later answer from Diane, the now full Margaret and Marianne set about playing volleyball in the opening next to the table while the others finished their food and watched.
“She is a spirited little thing,” Mrs. Jennings observed of Marianne, chuckling at some antic Marianne performed with the volleyball just then. Turning back to glance at Ellie, she noticed how Diane’s eldest pushed her food about her plate, obviously feeling low in spirit. “But you, Ellie,” continued Mrs. Jennings, “I have a feeling you left your heart back in Seattle.”
Ellie’s head jerked up at hearing her name coupled with the words “heart” and “Seattle.” Ready to provide a convincing denial to Mrs. Jennings’s assumption, she had to stop herself—was it that obvious? Ellie blushed.
“Ah-ha!” Mr. Middleton cried out, startling Ellie with his involvement, “Mrs. J. it looks like you’ve uncovered a secret!” He winked at Ellie and would have nudged her had he been sitting closer.
Diane tried to suppress a smile as Ellie squirmed under the attention. To Ellie’s great relief, however, Marianne and Margaret decided to return to the table right then and she momentarily thought herself to have been saved from further embarrassment. But unfortunately, she had under-estimated Mrs. Jennings’s curiosity.
“What does he do?” the elderly woman asked, not deterred by the return of Ellie’s sisters as Ellie had hoped. They would soon discover that the elderly woman loved the throes of gossip and wouldn’t stop until she got to the bottom of any secret.
“Accounting, advertising, entrepreneur?” Mr. Middleton suggested, playing along with his mother-in-law.
“Who?” Margaret inquired, curious as to what all the commotion was about, and why Ellie’s face was a shade of pink she had never seen her sister wear before.
“We’re talking about this certain someone your sister is ‘pining’ after,” Mrs. Jennings answered, her mischievous eyes glancing at Ellie, who in turn, sent Margaret a threatening look to keep her quiet.
But Margaret either didn’t care or didn’t notice her sister’s warning, for she turned to the inquisitive woman and answered, “He takes photos.”
Marianne nearly gagged on her orange juice, shocked by Margaret’s betrayal. Now not only was Ellie glaring at Margaret, but so were Marianne and their mother.
Seeing she was onto something and that an alliance could be made with this informative child, Mrs. Jennings clasped her hands together. “Ahh! A photographer!” she exclaimed excitedly.
“Oh! Haha!” Mr. Middleton laughed, enjoying the drama his life usually lacked. These ladies were entertaining indeed!
Despite the eye daggers being sent her way, Margaret’s only response was to look extremely pleased with herself as she bathed in the attention from Mrs. Jennings. “And his last name begins with an ‘F’,” Margaret revealed, feeling so important as the interesting old woman patted her on the back.
“An ‘F’!” Mr. Middleton answered with raised eyebrows, his mind already accumulating a list of last names beginning with that letter.
“Margaret!” Marianne chided, holding herself back from punishing her sister on the spot.
“What?” Margaret challenged, feeling victimized by the scrutinizing eyes of her immediate family.
“Frank?” Mrs. Jennings suggested with a chuckle.
“Fox?” Mr. Middleton fired back, seemingly oblivious to the uncomfortable company around the table.
“Foster?” Mrs. Jennings replied to her son-in-law, their excitement and laughter building.
“Fillmore?” laughed Mr. Middleton.
“Brandon!” Mrs. Jennings exclaimed.
Mr. Middleton stopped laughing as he and the others looked at Mrs. Jennings with concern. Marianne thought the old lady had finally lost her mind.
“That doesn’t start with an ‘F’,” Margaret stated matter-of-factly.
“Of course not, my dear!” Mrs. Jennings patted her hand, “Our friend Brandon has arrived!” They followed her gaze to see a broad-shouldered man advancing toward the table.
“Brandon! You made it!” Mr. Middleton immediately jumped up and hurried to welcome his friend.
“Sorry I’m late. Business,” Brandon answered with a playful grimace.
Before the group stood a man in his mid-thirties of average height. Ellie observed that there was nothing spectacular about his appearance. He had reddish-blond hair, blue eyes, and a very fair complexion which revealed lifetime-old freckles. It was his smile though, so kind and gentle, that set him apart, revealing the tenderheartedness of the inner man.
While they were observing him, Brandon was likewise surveying the newcomers. His eyes settled on Marianne, and he was startled by the instant and strong attraction he felt toward her. Averting his gaze, Brandon tried to regain control over his speeding heartbeat.
“Everyone,” began Mr. Middleton. “I’d like you to meet our friend and rival Brandon Whittaker.” He chuckled when playing up the word ‘rival’, an old inside joke between the two.
“No, no. . .” Brandon playfully fended.
“What he means to say,” Mrs. Jennings interrupted, “is that Brandon is a dear friend who just happens to own the luxurious hotels down the street.” Brandon blushed, glancing over at Marianne to see whether she was impressed or not, and was disappointed to find her distracted with swatting away an annoying fly. “Brandon, this is Diane, Ellie, Margaret, and Marianne,” she introduced him to the new renters.
Brandon exchanged greetings with them all, but his eyes lingered on Marianne. “Nice to meet you,” he replied kindly. As Brandon sat down and accepted the plate of food Mrs. Jennings had prepared for him, he kicked himself for not having arrived sooner. He wanted as much time as possible to be around this lovely new stranger who answered to the name of Marianne.
Offering to help Mrs. Jennings with picnic clean-up, Ellie had been assigned dish-drying detail and was now in the kitchen beside the elderly woman. Accepting another dish, Ellie began drying it with the damp dish towel. As the two of them worked together to complete this task, they continued to watch the commotion outside through the kitchen window. All the while, Mrs. Jennings persisted in her quest for more information concerning Ellie’s love interest. Upon realizing she would get nowhere with the secretive girl, she proceeded to speculate about Marianne’s love life instead.
“At first I thought of you, but when Brandon spotted Marianne. . .” Mrs. Jennings sighed, a true romantic, “Well, who am I to change fate? He is quite smitten, I can tell.” Her eyes glistened with excitement until noting Ellie’s bewilderment. She tried abating her young friend’s reticence with more words of wishful thinking. “And, Marianne would do very well for him. She is lovely and, take it from me dear,” she raised her eyebrows, “Brandon is very well off.” She handed Ellie another dish and paused, watching him out in the yard. “Not only that, he is a good man, Ellie.”
Ellie nodded, continuing to work as she watched her sister interact with Brandon. The two of them were playing volleyball with Margaret. Just then a long spike was hit and Brandon, the gentleman, ran to get it. Mrs. Jennings chuckled and looked over at Ellie with gleeful eyes.
“He deserves to be happy,” continued the elderly woman as a seriousness shrouded her features. She handed Ellie another dish and placed her hands in the sink water to locate the next item to wash. “He’s had a very difficult and painful past.”
Hesitating, Ellie glanced at Mrs. Jennings with curiosity. She
knew it wasn’t right to gossip, but she was interested in hearing what her landlady had to say about this new acquaintance. Pausing from her task, Ellie nodded for Mrs. Jennings to continue.
Seeing this, Mrs. Jennings smiled knowingly. But the pleased look of satisfaction quickly faded from the elderly woman’s face as she turned to study Brandon from afar. “He fell in love many years ago. . .” she explained, “. . .but his parents didn’t approve—poor guy. The two were separated, and they sent Brandon to study overseas.”
“What happened to the girl?” Ellie asked, now completely immersed in his dramatic past.
“Oh, that’s quite sad. After Brandon returned, he searched endlessly for her, only to find her dying of AIDS with a daughter being held in state custody. She made him promise he would take care of her little one. Brandon felt it was the least he could do. . .” Mrs. Jennings paused, searching her mind for another tidbit of information, and then turning to look at Ellie, she added, “I believe she’s at an allgirls school in New York.” Without another word, she pulled the plug in the sink, letting the water drain.
“How awful!” Ellie felt tears accumulating behind her eyes. “Does the daughter have AIDS as well?”
“Fortunately, no,” Mrs. Jennings answered, “That was the only good that came out of this.”
Ellie picked up the final dish from the counter to towel dry. “How old do you think the girl is now?” she asked, hoping to do some deduction and see how long ago this ill-fated romance had ended. It would give her a clue as to Brandon’s age.
Mrs. Jennings dried her hands on a towel and paused, “Oh, I’d say she’s about sixteen now.”
Ellie glanced at Brandon again, figuring he must be about thirty-seven—yet he didn’t look it. Brandon was still just as agile as Marianne and Margaret as he ran about returning the girls’ wild volleyball hits.
A Modern Day Sense and Sensibility: An Adaptation of Jane Austen's Classic Page 7
