Mrs. Jennings refolded the towel she had been using and laid it on the counter. “Your mother is very quiet. Is she always like that?”
A worried look creased Ellie’s features as she turned her attention to that of her grieving mother still sitting at the picnic table. She tried to hide her troubled expression from the elderly woman as she answered, “She’s still getting over the death of my dad.”
“She must have loved him very much,” Mrs. Jennings said quietly.
Ellie nodded. “Yes . . . he was her life,” she replied wistfully, her heart aching not only for her mother’s loss, but for her own.
It didn’t take Mrs. Jennings’s observation to make Ellie aware of her mother’s change in emotional state. Ellie had been conscious of it for some time now. Her worry continued to increase at noticing how Diane rarely got out of bed these days, and when she did, she often just sat on the edge of the mattress looking terribly sad. They had been living in the apartment for two months now, and Ellie thought perhaps her mom would have snapped out of it by this time. But Diane hadn’t, and their funds were nearly exhausted. Although Ellie had been diligently looking for work, positions like the paid internship she had back in Seattle were hard to come by in this area. Even the local shopping mall was fully staffed, forcing Ellie to take notice of ‘Help Wanted’ signs like the one posted at their nearby market. That’s where she and Marianne were headed that particular morning.
“But I don’t want to work,” Marianne complained. “Is it that bad, that I have to get a job?” she asked, watching as Ellie warmed some milk for their mom.
“You can’t expect Mom to,” Ellie sighed, sending her sister a pointed look. Marianne couldn’t object—they had all witnessed the down-slide in their mother’s behavior.
Her complaints silenced for the time being, Marianne turned her attention back to the living room mirror where she continued readying herself.
Ellie had known Marianne would resist the idea of having to get a job; thus, she had put off revealing their desperate circumstances until she no longer could. Because it was necessary for both sisters to acquire employment, Ellie hoped her sister’s lack of job experience wouldn’t hinder her chances of getting hired. Although Ellie held an accounting degree and could boast of an impressive internship at Dashwood International, Marianne had never really held down any sort of employment before. Her only turn at working consisted of being a camp counselor one summer at a campground their father had owned. However, since their first stop was to be the nearby market, Ellie was optimistic the manager wouldn’t be too picky about prior experience.
But Marianne had other plans, and working a dismal job didn’t fit into them. Though their living circumstances had taken a definite dive, it was difficult for Marianne to grasp the concept of living on a budget. Besides, she didn’t plan on sticking around Oregon very long. Once she got a few loans and perhaps applied for several scholarships, she saw herself back in Seattle within a matter of months. Ellie, however, was more pragmatic. If Marianne wished to continue eating until her departure, getting a job was a necessary “evil.”
There was a knock on the front door and Ellie moved to answer it, revealing an ever-smiling Mrs. Jennings holding a basket full of delicious-smelling blueberry muffins. Marianne thought the sight of Mrs. Jennings had never been so pleasant.
“I brought some muffins to cheer your mom up,” Mrs. Jennings explained, straining her neck to see beyond Ellie’s form into the apartment.
“Wow, that’s so nice of you,” Ellie thanked her, accepting the basket and setting it down on the counter after inviting Mrs. Jennings in. Marianne wasted no time in snatching a muffin and biting into it hungrily.
From where Mrs. Jennings had planted herself in the kitchen, she could see Diane still lying in bed through the opened bedroom door. Her eyes wandered to the girls for an explanation as to the afternoon slumber, but they merely busied themselves with their previous employments. By then, the milk was beginning to simmer and Ellie transferred it to a large mug.
“Well hi, Mrs. J.!” Margaret exclaimed at catching sight of the elderly woman. She ran to give her a hug.
Hugging the youngster back, Mrs. Jennings looked to Ellie and Marianne and asked, “Where are you girls headed?” She had observed Marianne’s preparations and the girls’ purses positioned readily on the kitchen counter.
“We’re going job hunting,” Ellie explained before catching her youngest sister’s attention. “Margaret, can you take this to Mom?” she asked, motioning to the mug and placing a warm muffin on a small plate next to it. Margaret nodded and carefully walked the goods into the bedroom.
“Do you know where you’ll be applying?” Mrs. Jennings asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
“I noticed that the local market down the road is still looking for help, but other than that, we’re just going to have to look around downtown,” Ellie answered.
“I don’t want to work at the grocery store!” Marianne objected, her nose going up in the air indignantly.
“Marianne, we can’t be picky,” Ellie quickly replied, glancing over at Mrs. Jennings with an embarrassed smile. “We need to earn money,” she pleaded, trying to mask the desperation in her voice as well as she could.
This was all too much for Mrs. Jennings. With obvious alarm etched on her features, she was no doubt considering the many terrible scenarios beautiful women like Marianne and Ellie could find themselves in when working at such places. Unable to remain silent, she asked, “Ellie, didn’t you mention last night that you do accounting?” Ellie nodded. “Well, as you know, Brandon owns the fanciest hotel in town. I’m sure we could speak to him and something could be worked out.” Ellie smiled hopefully. “And Marianne, how about you coming to work for me?” Mrs. Jennings knew Marianne wasn’t too excited about the prospect of job hunting. “I’m in desperate need of some help getting these complexes in tip-top shape—oh, and the office is terribly disorganized!” As soon as she blurted out the idea, Mrs. Jennings could tell it would be a pleasant proposition for both parties.
Ellie and Marianne looked to each other, confirming that the solutions suggested by Mrs. Jennings sounded ideal.
Turning to smile at the elderly woman with pleasure, Ellie asked, “When could we start?”
While Mrs. Jennings worked out some of the particulars with Ellie concerning Brandon’s hotel, Marianne looked on. She chided herself for thinking so cruelly at times of Mrs. Jennings, especially since all the elderly woman had ever been was nice—and now offering her a job around the apartments when they needed it most! Marianne made a mindful decision to be nicer to Mrs. Jennings from then on.
Ellie wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. Mrs. Jennings had assured her that Brandon seemed more than willing to find a position for her at his hotel, yet Ellie wasn’t one for taking handouts and sensed in Brandon a man she could look up to and respect. She wanted to impress him, not merely show up on his doorstep as a charity case. Having selected her most flattering business attire, Ellie arrived at the hotel lobby fifteen minutes before her interview and was now waiting in one of the plush leather chairs to be called back into his office. Mrs. Jennings’s description of the facility had not been exaggerated. The Portland estate was beautiful. The outdoor grounds were charming and the many trees well tended. The interior boasted a simple yet chic elegance. Ellie admired the deep shades of burgundy and forest green around the lobby as well as the crown moulding accents. Brandon, or whoever he hired to do the decorating, had done a fine job selecting rustic Italian accents which blended with the modern feel of the hotel.
“What do you think?”
Ellie looked up with surprise before smiling at Brandon. She hadn’t noted his approach. “Oh, it’s lovely.”
“Thank you,” Brandon smiled in return. His golden-retriever eyes displayed the kindness Ellie had sensed the evening of the outdoor dinner where they had been introduced. “If you’ll follow me,” he gestured toward his office.
Ellie
stood and followed him into the nicely-appointed room. Along one wall were what must have been hundreds of books organized on a built-in bookcase. Opposite that wall was a large bay window which framed the beautiful view of the hotel’s swimming pool and grounds. Sitting in the chair opposite his, Ellie waited while he pulled open a file containing her application.
After studying it for a moment, he began, “It looks like you come with some valuable experience, Ellie.” Ellie smiled shyly. “Mrs. Jennings informed me you’re looking for work. I think you would make a nice addition to this team. I’m looking for a part-time accountant to go over the books and keep our tax information in order. I know it’s a step down from what you were doing before at—ah,” he looked down at her resume, “Dashwood International, but it’s all I have open right now.”
“I’m thankful for any position,” Ellie confessed. With a mere Bachelor’s degree and a short summer internship under her belt, Ellie knew she was no match for the professionals vying for work in downtown Portland. This job would help support her family and add to her work experience until she could find time to complete a Master’s degree.
“When would you be available to start? Better yet, how about I give you the grand tour? You haven’t seen the extent of our facility yet.”
Ellie agreed and she and Brandon stepped outside his office, where Brandon informed the receptionist that he’d be showing Ellie around and could be reached on his cell phone if necessary. After showing her the pool and outdoor dining area, Brandon took her to see the exercise room, spa, indoor dining area, and banquet room. Ellie was impressed. The hotel was organized and well laid out. And the staff they encountered along the tour seemed pleasant and inviting—no wonder the hotel was fully booked at the moment.
“Melissa, our student accountant, has already turned in her two weeks’ notice and her last day will be this Thursday,” Brandon once again broached Ellie’s employment, “How would you like to start Friday?”
That was three days away. “Sounds perfect,” Ellie confirmed. She was actually looking forward to her first shift.
Brandon smiled, nodding his head with pleased satisfaction. “Well, then,” he said, extending his hand, “welcome aboard.”
Ellie eagerly shook his hand in return and thanked him before exiting the hotel. Whispering a thankful prayer as she started her mother’s Volvo, Ellie put the car in gear, eager to share the good news with her family.
Over the next couple of months, the girls kept themselves busy with their jobs and various projects around the apartments. Although she worked twenty hours a week at Brandon’s hotel, Ellie occasionally handled Mrs. Jennings’s accounts and often assisted her sisters with their duties on weekends. The first of many assignments was helping Margaret paint the shutters. The former shade of paint, most likely a pale violet, was faded and cracking. After scraping off as much of the old base as they could, the sisters had to apply two coats of the white paint Mrs. Jennings supplied them with before the shutters looked pristine again. Meanwhile, Marianne busied herself with mowing the large lawn shared by the apartments. As she grunted past Mrs. Jennings, who was gardening nearby, she muttered angry words at the antique mower. Not only did it feel as if it weighed a ton, but the mower enjoyed pestering her by veering right. Mrs. Jennings, although sympathetic and intent on purchasing a new lawn mower for Marianne next week, chuckled to herself. These three young women brought so much joy to her life! And not only joy, but renters, too. As the appearance of the apartments began to improve with the girls’ help, people began responding to the newly-cleaned “VACANCIES” sign posted at the complex’s entryway. At the rate things were going, Mrs. Jennings was hopeful the entire complex, twelve apartments in total, would be completely filled in a matter of weeks.
During this time, Ellie checked her email and the mailbox religiously, hoping for any communication from Edward. When they’d said their goodbyes, Edward promised to visit. But it had been months and he still hadn’t made an appearance. Finding herself growing silently desperate, Ellie checked both outlets daily. Every afternoon after she arrived home from work, the first thing she did was check the mail. And on Saturdays, Ellie eagerly awaited the postal truck’s two o’clock appointment with her mailbox. Checking email only left her equally disappointed. With every passing day that brought no communication from Edward, Ellie began to doubt more and more that he had even cared at all. If he wrote to her, that meant he was thinking about her, right? So no visit and no letter meant . . . he didn’t care? All of this emotional stress was taking a toll on Ellie’s health, and increasingly she found herself withdrawing from her family, preferring to be alone—and she didn’t like that. Picking herself up, Ellie mentally began to brace herself for heartbreak.
Yet every girl’s heart is allowed a relapse now and then, and late one evening, Ellie decided to see just what the internet could reveal concerning Edward and what kept him too busy to write or come and visit. Yes, he had promised her nothing, but the connection had been too real to pass up as just friendship. Sneaking out of her bedroom, Ellie had chosen to go about her snooping mission after everyone went to bed. The computer was in the living room, in plain sight for all to see—and Ellie didn’t relish the idea of anyone catching her looking up her “secret crush.”
Turning on the computer, Ellie typed “Edward Ferrars” as quietly as she could into the Google search field and waited for the results to display. A second later, several pictures of him popped up on the screen as well as a few of his photography stills which had been featured in National Geographic. She studied an image of him from a charity event and sighed wistfully—Edward looked so debonair and handsome.
Hearing her bedroom door open, Ellie quickly hit the minimize button as Marianne entered the kitchen to fill up her water glass. Marianne looked over at her, but didn’t seem suspicious as Ellie pretended to be checking her email. When Marianne finally returned to their room, Ellie let out a sigh of relief.
The coast now clear again, Ellie turned her attention back to the web page, her eyes trailing down the list of results which included a Tumblr account and a Photoblog. She’d have to create new accounts with each site to access his photos. What if he was able to keep tabs on who was viewing his work? Ellie would be humiliated if he thought she was stalking him. Deciding not to take the chance, Ellie sat back in the computer chair, letting her mind wander. Wouldn’t that be something if Edward was thinking about her at that very moment? But Ellie pushed the thought aside. She was just being whimsical and needed to grow up. Closing down the computer and heading to bed downtrodden, Ellie climbed in next to Marianne. It was odd how she could feel both relieved and disappointed at finding nothing substantial about Edward online. Relief because that meant he wasn’t gallivanting across the world with some unknown woman; disappointment because she longed so badly to hear news of him. Ellie fell asleep that night promising herself she would try her best to be patient, while also issuing an order to her heart that it start slowly letting go.
Fortunately, there to take her mind off matters of the heart were family and work. With the interior improvements almost done, the girls’ efforts of late were spent mostly on the apartments’ grounds maintenance. That morning, they’d been assigned detailing the complex’s entrance sign. It had accumulated years of grime from the mud which was splashed up by the ever-constant rain—so much so that one could barely make out the title of the apartments. Although the most artistic, and, as Ellie reasoned, best suited for detailing, Marianne opted to tend the shrubs surrounding the sign while Ellie had to scrub the ceramic tiling. It was a nasty job, and Ellie was thankful for the gloves Mrs. Jennings had offered her as the three set out to begin working. Margaret, a few feet from her older sisters, was joyfully watering the flowers.
Passing by at that moment, Mrs. Jennings waved cheerfully at the girls as she proceeded toward their apartment to visit with Diane. Eager to wave back, Margaret turned to greet the elderly woman. In doing so, however, she’d forgotten that in her
other hand was an active hose. The screams of her older sisters came as a shocking surprise, and wide-eyed the young girl realized what she had mistakenly done. Soaked and irritated, Marianne stomped to her feet and while marching past Margaret, promised revenge. Usually Margaret would have quivered at such a threat, but she knew Marianne was all talk and no action. She was safe, at least for the time being.
One Saturday evening after Brandon had finished visiting Mr. Middleton and Mrs. Jennings, Diane could tell he wasn’t ready to go home and invited him to stay for dinner. Ellie had prepared a delicious-smelling pot roast in the crock pot and Diane knew there would be more than enough to go around. Once all of them had their fill of the savory dish, Brandon offered to help Diane with the dishes while the sisters headed outdoors with enthusiasm. They were eager to assemble the new hammock Margaret had uncovered while helping Mrs. Jennings clean out her garage. Since the elderly woman had no more use for it, she had graciously donated it to the excited youngster.
While the girls pulled the hammock out of its package and began trying to translate the assembly directions (the only set Mrs. Jennings could find were in Spanish), Diane relished the opportunity to observe Brandon while he was occupied with watching the interactions outside. She thought he was a fine young man with fair features—a little too quiet for her tastes (and she thought for Marianne’s tastes, too, if she were to be honest), yet Diane couldn’t help but feel a tenderness toward Brandon since it was obvious he cared very much for her daughter.
Meanwhile, outside the girls were struggling. With frustration, they impatiently yanked the directions from each other’s hands, stifling tears when yet another attempt to assemble the apparatus failed. But at last they thought they had done it. Standing proudly beside their setup, they’d strung the new hammock between two trees located not far from their apartment’s back porch and it looked snug and secure as it swayed with the breeze. First to test it out, Margaret got a running start (despite her sisters’ warnings), and leaped into the cozy-looking hammock only to find herself suddenly on the grass underneath, trapped within its knitted fabric.
A Modern Day Sense and Sensibility: An Adaptation of Jane Austen's Classic Page 8
