A Modern Day Sense and Sensibility: An Adaptation of Jane Austen's Classic

by Kaitlin Saunders

  “Are you in pain?” Diane asked Marianne as she doted on her daughter, making sure she was comfortable.

  “She injured her ankle. Luckily I think it’s just a sprain,” the stranger reassured.

  “Margaret, get a cold pack out of the freezer,” Diane ordered her youngest child who obediently ran into the kitchen. A moment later, the young man stepped aside to allow the returning Margaret better access to the patient. Following her mother’s direction as to the ice pack’s placement, Margaret rested the compress on her sister’s swollen ankle. Marianne winced when the pressure was applied.

  Standing up again, Diane turned her full attention to that of the stranger. “Thank you so much! How can we ever repay you?” her voice chimed sweetly.

  “It was my pleasure. I just happened to be on my run and saw that they needed help.” He said this, of course, just so he could watch Marianne’s cheeks swell pink again. Chuckling to himself as he backed away toward the door, he stopped short of leaving. “If it’s okay, I’d like to check on the patient—say tomorrow afternoon?”

  Diane glanced at Marianne and smiled. She didn’t bother asking her daughter, already knowing what her answer would be. Marianne’s eager smile said it all. “Certainly,” Diane agreed with a beaming face.

  “Until tomorrow then,” the stranger smiled at Marianne, his movie star eyes making her heart flutter. Flashing one more mega-white smile to the rest of the ladies, he turned and exited.

  “Mom, his name!” exclaimed Marianne once he had closed the door behind himself.

  Realizing her mistake, Diane gasped in horror before hurrying after him. She left the door open on purpose so the girls inside would hopefully be able to hear his response. “Excuse me!” Diane caught his attention and he stopped to turn and smile at her. “I’m sorry—I don’t even know your name.” The girls, now stationed at the window watching, waited for his answer with anticipation.

  “Willoughby. Jim Willoughby,” he replied, sending a wink to Marianne through the window. Startled, Marianne blushed and lowered herself back down onto the couch so he couldn’t see her anymore.

  “Well, then, see you tomorrow, Jim!” Diane said goodbye, heading back inside as Jim nodded and continued on his way. Closing the door behind her, Diane leaned against it with a delighted smile.

  “Marianne!” Ellie taunted cheekily as she sat down next to her sister and playfully pushed her.

  “He’s like a knight in shining armor!” Margaret exclaimed. She made an exaggerated swooning motion and fell back onto one of the chairs, causing cascades of laughter.

  The next day, the apartment was in an uproar. A single, good-looking, eligible hunk of a man was coming over, and their home was in no condition to host such a highly esteemed guest! True, he had seen it in its normal state the day before, but that was in a moment of emergency and surely he hadn’t been viewing their place with a critical eye—not that he’d be looking with a critical eye—but nonetheless, Diane wanted it spotless. She instructed Ellie and Margaret to help clean the apartment from top to bottom while Marianne soaked in a jasmine bath before undergoing several beauty treatments including a facial mask. Diane, a hopeless romantic, was eager to promote any love connection for her daughters and wanted Marianne to look her best. The Dashwood ladies were at it all morning, but made sure to be finished by eleven o’clock sharp in case Willoughby decided to come before lunch.

  By two o’clock, they were sprawled out in the living room, twiddling their thumbs, waiting—and it didn’t help that Mr. Middleton decided to stop by for a surprise visit. Even so, Diane did not let his interruption go to waste. She had uncovered that Mr. Middleton knew Willoughby, and the girls had been drilling the poor man about the stranger ever since.

  Stationed on the couch with her foot elevated, Marianne led the way in this inquisition. “But can you tell us anything else about him?” she asked. “What are his hobbies? What does he like to do?” Her questions overwhelmed the elderly man.

  Returning from the kitchen, Ellie handed Mr. Middleton a glass of ice water and sent Marianne a pleading glance to curtail this activity. She empathized with her mother’s cousin as he squirmed in his seat.

  “Well,” Mr. Middleton began pensively, “Besides knowing that he’s a well-liked guy, I don’t really know what else to tell you. He hails from Colorado; owns a pretty nice place over there, left to him by his parents after they died. I imagine he’s twenty-five or twenty-six—and he comes in to Portland occasionally to visit his aunt, our retired mayor. She owns a grand house in the country that he’s to inherit,” he finished, hoping this information was enough to keep the ladies at bay.

  Margaret, who had been stationed at the window as lookout, had neglected her position while listening intently to Mr. Middleton’s description. But luckily, their new pet Rover had not forgotten his job and when he barked from outside, everyone’s eyes turned eagerly out the window to see who had arrived.

  “It’s only Brandon,” Margaret declared glumly. A round of disappointed sighs could be heard around the room.

  Mr. Middleton shook his head as he observed them. “Poor Brandon,” he lamented, “None of you will think of him now! Marianne, why I tell you he is as good a man as Willoughby, or better! I wouldn’t be pinning your hopes on—”

  “Mr. Middleton,” Marianne interrupted with a blush, “I don’t intend on pinning my hopes on anyone just yet.”

  A knock at the door laid this awkward subject to rest and Ellie got up to receive their next guest.

  “Brandon!” Mr. Middleton stood to shake his friend’s hand as Brandon joined them inside.

  Yet Brandon didn’t seem to notice this hospitable gesture from the welcoming Mr. Middleton. Rather, he had eyes only for the radiant Marianne. “For the invalid,” Brandon said, holding out the exquisite bouquet of flowers he had purchased at the local florist shop.

  “Thank you, Brandon,” Marianne smiled hesitantly as she accepted the gift. But it was with reluctance she received the flowers, knowing it would only lend more fodder to Mrs. Jennings’s speculation of a future love match. Even still, Marianne did not want to injure Brandon’s feelings and forced herself to enjoy the bouquet’s fragrant scent to show her appreciation. “Ellie, do you mind?” she asked a moment later, holding out the flowers for her sister to take. Ellie complied and took the gift into the kitchen in search of a suitable container.

  “He’s here!” Margaret’s excited voice exclaimed from the window just as Rover began to bark loudly again.

  The apartment was instantly filled with animation. Willoughby had finally arrived! While Ellie absent-mindedly set Brandon’s flowers onto the counter (without a vase) and returned to her seat, Diane ran over to Marianne and helped her primp before pinching her daughter’s cheeks to give them extra color.

  “Well, Brandon,” Mr. Middleton sighed as he and Brandon observed the chaotic scene, “I can see that we’re not wanted here anymore.” He then proceeded to direct the confused Brandon toward the front door.

  “Who’s here?” Brandon asked, unaware that anyone else was expected.

  “Oh, Jim Willoughby,” Mr. Middleton replied, waving his hand in exasperation.

  Brandon turned to Marianne, struggling to disguise his jealousy. He despised the thought of such a treasure being snatched up by someone he deemed unworthy of her. The possibility depressed him. Yet no one but Ellie caught sight of the grief that momentarily clouded Brandon’s eyes before he redirected his attention to Mr. Middleton.

  Just as the elderly man opened the front door for them to exit, Willoughby was at the doorstep poised to knock. The men acknowledged each other as they exchanged places. As they did so, Brandon caught sight of the flowers in Willoughby’s hand. Brandon thought his floral selection much better compared to the wild flowers the “Casanova” had probably vandalized from someone’s yard on his way to the apartment.

  “Welcome, Jim!” Diane sweetly greeted the handsome visitor as he entered and cockily walked toward Marianne. “
Come, sit,” she motioned to the chair closest to the couch.

  But before Diane could close the front door, Rover ran in behind Willoughby and made a bee-line for Marianne, threatening to jump on her and ruin everything.

  “Margaret, get that dog out of here!” commanded Diane in a state of horror.

  Willoughby immediately took charge, acting as a barrier which prevented the dog from gaining access to Marianne, and in doing so, provided the patient with a very pleasant view of his nicely toned backside. Margaret, finally getting a hold of Rover after an exhausting chase, escorted their pet outside like a prisoner. The young girl proceeded to walk Rover over to Mrs. Jennings’s to be doggie sat.

  With the troublesome animal now out of the way, Willoughby returned his attention to the receptive Marianne. “And how are you, Marianne?” he asked, choosing to remain standing for the time being.

  “You found out my name!” Marianne exclaimed with pleasant surprise. Truth be told, Marianne had tossed and turned the night before, chiding herself for not having shared her name—yet Willoughby had discovered it on his own!

  “These are for you,” Willoughby said, offering her the arrangement of wild flowers he brought with him.

  “Oh, how lovely!” Marianne declared, accepting the gift with delight. She breathed in their fragrance, and although Brandon’s bouquet had smelled twice as good, Marianne never would have admitted it. “They smell wonderful! Ellie, can you put these in that crystal vase?”

  Ellie nodded, knowing exactly which vase Marianne was referring to. It had been a gift from their father in celebration of Marianne’s high school graduation, and had been filled with a bouquet of white roses. Marianne treasured it, especially since it was the last gift she ever received from her dad.

  Momentarily distracted, Willoughby’s eyes caught sight of the beautiful painting above Marianne and he moved to get a closer look. It was a piece Marianne had completed several years before, depicting an angel watching over a praying child. Examining it, Willoughby turned to them with fascination. “This artwork is exquisite! Who’s the artist?” he inquired, “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “Marianne,” and “It’s mine,” both mother and daughter answered all at once. Embarrassed, they blushed and Marianne stated again, “I painted that.” Willoughby seemed genuinely impressed and turned to gaze at it again with even greater interest.

  “Do you study art?” Marianne asked him with interest.

  “Religiously,” Willoughby replied, finally sitting down on the open chair next to Marianne. “Actually, that’s why I’m in town. I’m an art critic at the New Yorker, and aside from sneaking in a visit to my aunt, I’m here to review the Dondolesia Exhibition at Strummers Gallery downtown.”

  “Marianne loves to draw. She is always painting,” Diane explained, giddy at discovering such a beloved hobby shared between the pair.

  “Do you plan to study art?” Willoughby asked Marianne.

  “Not so much study it as create it,” Marianne answered honestly, peering up at her artwork with satisfaction.

  As she did so, Willoughby studied Marianne as if she herself were a priceless painting. “Ahhh, a true artist,” he said with admiration. “I would love to see more of your work.”

  “Then you shall,” Marianne answered, her eyes displaying her equal esteem.

  Having completed her task, Margaret returned from outside, out of breath after sprinting from Mrs. Jennings’s. She plopped down next to Ellie and after a moment leaned over to ask her eldest sister a question. In a whisper which was loud enough for the others to hear, the curious Margaret inquired, “Did I miss anything?”

  Every day for the next week, Willoughby was a constant visitor at the apartment. Whenever he wasn’t working at the art gallery, he could be found with Marianne, often staying until late in the night. Ellie felt sorry for his aunt, whom no doubt wouldn’t get to see her nephew at all during his visit. When the weekend came, Willoughby stole Marianne away all day Saturday, only returning her by ten o’clock sharp at Diane’s request. It was obvious that the initial spark between the two was becoming something much more substantial with every moment spent together. The lovebirds were inseparable. During the first few encounters of their romance, the eager couple spent the majority of their time admiring Marianne’s paintings or exploring new pieces presently circulating in the artistic world. Then, when those subjects had been exhausted, the couple started venturing outdoors, strolling around the grassy field about the apartments or the local park.

  One particularly sunny day, Diane noted that Willoughby and Marianne had been outside several hours. Unable to contain her curiosity as to the couple’s status, she turned to Ellie who was knitting quietly on the couch nearby. Glancing up at her mother, Ellie knew what it was Diane wanted.

  “Ellie, you should take Rover for a walk,” Diane hinted.

  “Mom, they’ve only been gone two hours,” Ellie replied without pausing from her task.

  “Closer to three,” Diane corrected. “Too long for just a simple walk. Please Ellie? It won’t look so snoopy if you’re the one who accidentally stumbles upon them.”

  “What you really mean is that you’d rather have me be known as the nosy one,” Ellie replied.

  “Please, Ellie?” Diane pleaded. Begrudgingly, Ellie signaled her surrender by setting aside her knitting. “Oh, thank you!” her mother exclaimed in victory, and then in a conspiratorial voice she continued, “Now, I suggest beginning your walk around the outer rim first.” Diane hurried to the wall where Rover’s leash was hanging and handed it to Ellie while she continued to divulge her plan. “Then when you find them—of course it will be an accident—come back and report to me what they were doing.”

  Ellie felt like a spy—but not a cool spy like James Bond or anything like that—more like a peeping Tom sent to do her mother’s meddling, and she didn’t like it very much. Yet the summer air was so refreshing that Ellie had to admit she was glad for an excuse to be outdoors. Having attached the leash to Rover’s collar, Ellie set about to fulfill her mission. Rover, thank goodness, seemed to be on his best behavior, and Ellie found that holding onto his leash was an easy task compared to the last time she had tried to walk him. On that particular adventure, Rover had practically dragged her for a mile in pursuit of a neighborhood cat.

  As she approached the edge of Mrs. Jennings’s property, Ellie looked back at the apartment to see Diane peering at her through the window. It surprised Ellie when Diane signaled for her to hurry up. Sighing with exasperation, Ellie continued her quest, heading first to the park. She started the search by walking around the park’s outer pathways to see if the couple were occupying any of the surrounding benches. Instead of seeing the pair though, all Ellie saw were elderly people taking their daily stroll or reading novels. Glancing down at her watch, Ellie counted the minutes since she’d left home. Thirty minutes and she still had yet to spot the love birds! Where could they be?

  It was when she ventured down to the dog’s playground area that Ellie realized she’d made her first mistake. Although there were a few secluded benches in the bushy areas around the leash-free field, reaching them required one to walk past a commonly busy area where dog owners took their pets. Here, their dogs could run, play fetch, or romp around with other dogs—and at that moment, that’s exactly what Rover wanted to do. The dog had grown tired of having Ellie trail slowly behind, so when he saw the freedom other dogs were experiencing Rover revolted. Yanking Ellie almost off her feet, Rover flung forward and began sprinting toward the field. At first, Ellie tried to keep up with the animal, ignoring the shooting pain in her arm as she held on to the leash for dear life. But it quickly became apparent to Ellie that she wasn’t fast enough, and if she didn’t let go soon, she’d wind up face down on the ground. Shying away from the thought of facial reconstruction, Ellie had to make a decision—she let go. Panting, Ellie dropped to her knees on the cement and watched Rover disappear into the distance with his leash trailing behind h
im like a scarf. She attempted to yell after her sister’s pet, but her throat was so parched that Rover’s name sounded about as audible as a mouse’s squeak. Collapsing backwards onto the ground in complete exhaustion, Ellie felt something soft squish around the middle of her spine. She instantly froze, feeling every tired muscle in her body tense. Ellie’s mind raced as she tried guessing what she’d just laid down on, all the while knowing exactly what it was but not wanting to believe it. Slowly sitting up, Ellie shifted to get a better look at the ground behind her and saw precisely what she feared. It was a fresh pile of poo, and it smelled something terrible.

  “Uughhhahaha,” Ellie let out a wail, quickly removing herself from the mess. She felt dirty all over. If only she’d worn a sweater, Ellie could have taken it off and sported her t-shirt back home—but it was a warm day and she hadn’t needed a sweater, and was now stuck wearing a smelly, pooinfested top. Ellie would have hightailed it all the way home that instant but for the fact that Rover was still on the loose and she’d never hear the end of it from Margaret if she came home without the dog and he was lost forever. Although she wouldn’t mind never seeing that dog again, she couldn’t disappoint her youngest sister. Letting out a frustrated grunt as she stood up, Ellie stamped her foot like a child before dragging her feet forward in the direction which Rover had run off.

  Complaining under her breath with each step she took, Ellie resumed her search not only for the missing lovebirds, but now also for the “annoying beast” (as she was now calling him), who would be in the doghouse for the next year if she had her way. “Rover!” Ellie called out occasionally, her voice full of irritation. “Rover!!!” For fifteen minutes Ellie went on like this, feeling her anger increase with each minute that went by in which she didn’t spot that dog. Coming to a sharp turn in the pathway, she rounded the corner in a half-jog, but stumbled to a halt upon seeing what lay beyond. Lo and behold, sitting on a secluded bench were Marianne and Willoughby. And not only that, but sitting with them, lavishing in their attention, was none other than Rover. The couple looked up with surprise when Ellie approached them, and a frown instantly clouded Marianne’s face. Marianne had thought perhaps Rover escaped from home and wandered toward them haphazardly, but now she suspected her sister had been sent to spy on them and she was not happy.