“Ellie, I’d like you to meet my youngest daughter, Charlotte Palmer,” Mrs. Jennings introduced her first to the freckled redhead with the joyful expression. “And this is her husband, James,” the elderly woman continued, motioning to the man who appeared never to smile before adding, “He’s in real estate.” Ellie exchanged greetings with the couple until Mrs. Jennings interrupted, “And Ellie, this little bun in the oven,” she exclaimed with glee, gently touching Charlotte’s stomach, “is due in September! I’m going to be a grandma!”
“Wow, that’s fantastic!” Ellie congratulated. “Do you know yet whether it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Oh, no,” Mrs. Jennings continued to do all the talking, “Charlotte prefers to let it be a surprise, and who can blame her—what fun! James doesn’t care too much either way, so I think the surprise might be exciting for him, too.”
While this announcement was being made, the young lady who had approached with the couple merely stood by silently, looking on and smiling when possible. It was only when Mrs. Jennings noticed Ellie observing the stranger that she gasped, “Heaven’s me! In my excitement to share the baby news I completely forgot to introduce Lucy!” The young woman blushed. “Ellie, this young woman, who I am sure will become a close friend, is James’s cousin, Lucy Steele.”
Ellie smiled, taking advantage of now being able to fully study the attractive woman without seeming too inquisitive. Although Lucy appeared sweet and kind and said all the right things, there was something in her countenance that made Ellie wary. She couldn’t picture herself trusting Lucy enough to form a close friendship, despite Mrs. Jennings’s prediction.
Interrupting her thoughts, Brandon’s cell phone rang and Ellie watched as he took the call, wandering away for privacy. Yet before he could get too far, Ellie observed the concern etched on his features and hoped nothing was wrong.
“Lucy is a senior at Stanford University,” Mrs. Jennings continued, stealing Ellie’s attention again.
Slowly assimilating this shared tidbit, it took Ellie a moment before she remembered hearing someone else mention that very school recently—and then it clicked. Edward had gone there as well.
Mrs. Jennings took Lucy’s hand and pulled her closer to Ellie, “Lucy’s on summer vacation right now.”
Taking Mrs. Jennings’s hint that she wanted the two of them to talk, Ellie asked Lucy, “What are you studying there?” Although she was actually more curious about the connection with Edward, Ellie thought she’d start at the top.
Just then, Brandon ran to Mr. Middleton. All eyes turned with curiosity to watch the men exchange a few brief words before Brandon dashed toward the house.
“Brandon, you can’t leave!” Mr. Middleton called after him. Yet his plea was pointless. The situation was obviously beyond negotiation—something required Brandon’s immediate attention.
“I have no other choice,” Brandon stopped to turn back wearily. “Please, have the picnic without me!” he pleaded before disappearing inside.
“What in the world could be wrong?” Mrs. Jennings questioned while trying to digest the scene.
Not a moment later, one of the garage doors opened and a sports car emerged. They could see Brandon in the driver’s seat as he sped off down the long driveway.
“There he goes!” Mr. Middleton declared. “We can’t have the picnic without our host!”
“I’m sure whatever it was could have waited a few hours,” complained Willoughby. “Brandon probably just wanted an excuse to cancel the picnic.” Then turning to Marianne he continued, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Willoughby hopped into his car and motioned for Marianne to do the same. Not bothering to tell anyone where they were going, the young couple followed Brandon’s example by speeding down the long driveway and out of sight.
As Ellie watched the item with disapproving eyes, she turned and glanced at Mrs. Jennings, wary of the elderly woman’s observation. Ellie could only wonder what Mrs. Jennings must be thinking, but didn’t have to wait long to find out. Two things were on Mrs. Jennings’s mind the rest of the afternoon and only two things: Brandon’s sudden departure and what the young couple were up to!
Later that night, Ellie sat in the comfy rocking chair, letting the warm breeze from the open window softly stroke her face as she read A Walk to Remember by Nicholas Sparks. Although the book was one of her favorites, Ellie was tired and ready for bed. It was nearly eleven o’clock and Marianne still hadn’t returned home. Fulfilling the role of “house warden” in place of her mom, Ellie waited up for her sister’s return. Diane had attempted to stay awake and keep Ellie company, but the medication the doctor had prescribed made her sleepy and by ten o’clock, Ellie sent her mother to bed.
Diane probably didn’t need medication any more these days; she was happier than she had been in a long time. Not only was Marianne’s romance a boost to her morale, but Diane felt more content now that the apartment was more like a home than just a place to sleep at night. On top of that, Diane was keeping herself busy with a part-time job she had secured at a local florist shop. Diane loved her new position. This brought encouragement to Ellie and her sisters. In addition to the relief they felt at observing the upbeat attitude in their mother of late, things were changing again—but this time it was a good change. With summer coming to an end and many of the improvements around the apartments completed, things at the complex quieted down. Margaret started the third grade at the nearby elementary school, while Marianne scaled back her duties at the apartments to focus more on her art work. Mrs. Jennings was eager to accommodate Marianne now that she was enrolled at the city’s art institute. Meanwhile, Ellie continued to excel at her job and was hopeful that rumors about a promotion coming down the pipeline soon were true.
Setting aside the romance novel to let her thoughts wander, Ellie found it hard to believe they had been in Portland seven months—no, eight. It was now the first of September. It would be a year that November since her father’s passing, just two months away. Ellie felt a sense of pride overwhelm her as she reflected over all they had accomplished together since that time. She knew her father would be proud.
Headlights shone through the window, putting Ellie back on surveillance detail. Once recognizing the vehicle as Willoughby’s, Ellie glanced at the clock—it was nearly midnight. As he drove the car into a parking spot, Ellie turned off the reading lamp to remain hidden and watched the couple advance toward the apartment hand in hand.
“Thank you for today,” Ellie heard Marianne say.
Willoughby smiled and squeezed Marianne’s hand, leading her to the doorstep. Taking in the improvements the Dashwoods had completed on their apartment, his look was one of satisfaction. “It’s amazing how much life you’ve brought to this place,” Willoughby began, “I had often walked by it during my visits in the summers growing up and wondered how anybody could be happy here. But now, whenever I see this place, it puts a smile on my face.”
“Mrs. Jennings doesn’t want to stop here either; she has lots more ideas,” Marianne added, thinking Willoughby would be interested in hearing how it would only get better.
But to Marianne’s surprise, Willoughby didn’t like the thought of their home being altered from its present state at all. “Now that I won’t allow!” he exclaimed with mocking authority. “What you have done so far has brought this place a thing called charm. If you improve it anymore, it will lose all of its comforting appeal. . . .”
Marianne chuckled at what she interpreted as false sincerity, but was silenced by Willoughby’s change in demeanor as he continued softly, “Some of my happiest moments have passed at this apartment.” Willoughby slowly brought his hand up and caught a strand of her hair between his fingers, stroking it tenderly as he looked upon Marianne with love. Marianne blushed and glanced down, yet didn’t shy away from Willoughby’s bold display of affection.
Ellie, observing this tender gesture, felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. It felt like she was watching a movie, yet she
was uncomfortable witnessing such affection between her sister and Willoughby and not just some random actors playing out a scene on the big screen.
“Marianne, can I see you tomorrow?” Willoughby asked in a low voice.
“Sunday?” Marianne asked, to which he nodded in reply. Taking Willoughby’s hand, Marianne answered, “Of course—there’s no way I’d let you leave town without saying goodbye.”
“No, I mean, can I see you alone?” he pursued. “I have something I’d like to ask you.”
This odd request surprised Marianne—they were always alone, why would he need to ask? “Well,” she began, “my family is going fishing with Mr. Middleton tomorrow morning instead of to church. I guess I can ask if it’s okay if I stay behind.”
Willoughby smiled and touched Marianne’s face. “Sounds perfect,” he replied. Then looking at his watch and noting the time, he added, “I better let you get some sleep then. Goodnight.” As Willoughby reluctantly turned to walk away, his expression spoke volumes about how he’d rather not have the evening ever end. He looked back at Marianne every few steps to smile until he was inside his car and driving away.
Marianne stepped inside the apartment as if she were on cloud nine. Ellie almost wished she could hide under the blankets so she wouldn’t ruin this special moment for her sister. But too late Marianne noticed her presence and her look told Ellie she was anything but pleased.
“Spying, were we?” Marianne set her purse on the counter.
Ellie blushed. Although she hadn’t meant to spy, watching them through the window had seemed so innocent at the time. “Mom asked me to stay up and make sure you got home alright—you do realize it’s way past your curfew? Where were you anyway?”
“Why does it matter? I always go places with Jim.”
“Yeah, but you always tell us where you’re going. Not to mention you’ve never missed curfew. I’m sure Mrs. Jennings noticed. I can only guess what she’ll be telling the neighbors tomorrow about you.” Though Ellie had grown to love the old lady, she wasn’t blind to her gossiping ways.
“Who cares what Mrs. Jennings or anyone else thinks!” Marianne plopped down onto the couch, folding her arms in front of her chest.
Ellie scolded herself for bringing Mrs. Jennings into this. She’d momentarily forgotten Marianne’s previous beef with the woman for trying to set her up with Brandon. “You should care what other people think about you,” Ellie reminded, “Your reputation is worth protecting.”
“Come on, Ellie, you know me better than that,” Marianne self-righteously stood and began pacing back and forth across the family room. “Nothing happened. All we did was visit his aunt’s home.”
“His aunt, the former mayor?” Ellie asked.
Marianne nodded, then sat down beside her sister, her eyes filled with excitement. “Ellie, the house was so beautiful. It looked just like an English cottage and even had a tree house in the backyard. Willoughby and I went over all the things he’d like to change when he inherits the house, like putting in a gazebo and a hot tub.”
“What did his aunt have to say about that?” Ellie smirked.
“She wasn’t there,” Marianne blushed, turning her face away from Ellie’s shocked expression.
“You were alone in the house with him all that time?”
“I told you nothing happened. We’d driven all that way, and it would have been stupid to turn right back around just because his aunt didn’t happen to be home.”
“How far away is this house?”
“It’s out in the country,” Marianne skirted the question.
“Is it like a couple of hours away?”
“No,” Marianne admitted. “I think it took a half-hour to get there.”
Ellie’s look admonished her sister. “Marianne, you don’t know Jim that well. What if he had—”
“Oh Ellie, how could you even think a thing like that! Jim is the last person I know who would try to force himself on me! He respects me.”
Marianne’s pious look set Ellie off, reminding her not only about the honking incident earlier, but also the fact that Willoughby had disregarded curfew and had purposely stolen her sister away for some very isolated alone time. In Ellie’s mind, these were indicators of his lack of respect. She told Marianne just that.
“Well not everyone can be a saint like you, Ellie!” Marianne retorted. “No one will ever measure up to your standards unless he’s boring like Edward. You’re so judgmental—no wonder he didn’t bother sticking around!” Marianne steamed as she stomped to their bedroom before pausing to add, “You’re not my mom, Ellie, so stop trying to be!” Slamming the door behind her, she left a wake of pain.
Ellie didn’t move for several minutes following her sister’s departure, allowing the sting of Marianne’s words to lessen before indulging in a few sorrowful tears. Of course she knew Marianne’s accusation was way off base, but it still hurt to have someone comment on how Edward hadn’t bothered visiting and that the only contact they’d received was a letter saying he couldn’t come.
All this bickering with Marianne was exhausting. Sure, the two of them fought from time to time—like normal sisters do—but they always made up in the end. It didn’t feel to Ellie like they’d ever make up now. Was it possible for them to recreate the closeness they’d once shared after having grown so far apart these past couple of weeks? This rift was unlike any the sisters had experienced before. They rarely talked, unless Ellie forced conversation on Marianne, and even then it was stilted and awkward because of their differing opinions. Although Ellie so desperately wanted to approve of her sister’s escalating romance, her conscience wouldn’t be put to ease until their acquaintance with Willoughby could be more thoroughly explored. Because of this, Marianne was withdrawing from her more and more each day. At this rate, we’ll be strangers by Christmas, Ellie repined.
Resituating herself on the couch, Ellie decided it best to sleep in the family room that night. She and Marianne needed space. While trying to make herself comfortable on the piece of furniture built more for style than comfort, Ellie hoped Marianne would cool off and see she wasn’t so “judgmental” after all. Marianne knew better than that. Yet with her being so upset, it was hard to tell how she’d react. And with tomorrow possibly bringing a marriage proposal, Ellie prayed Marianne wouldn’t repeat their conversation to Willoughby—she wanted to be invited to the wedding, even if she did disapprove.
To the fishing party’s dismay, Mr. Middleton chose a secluded bridge as their hunting ground instead of the nearby stream as they had hoped. Although a mere twenty-minute drive from their apartment, it seemed like hours from where they were sure an exciting event would soon be taking place. Both Diane and Ellie agreed Willoughby must be planning on popping the question with a big engagement ring. In fact, Diane was already congratulating herself on having a daughter so happily wed.
Try as hard as she might, Diane’s hints had done no good in persuading the seasoned fisherman to choose the wooded area behind Mrs. Jennings’s house. In that location, there was a small stream which fed into a miniature pond. And yes, it was true that in those polluted waters there wasn’t anything worth catching, but it was close enough to the apartment that, with frequent bathroom breaks, Diane and her girls would have plenty of opportunities to spy on their home. Even so, Mr. Middleton was adamant they needed to do some real fishing and therefore had “kidnapped” the girls (as Margaret put it), taking them to an old creaky bridge. Once there, he instructed them to lower their fishing lines into the water below and said the rest was up to chance.
Although the ladies were enjoying themselves, it became routine to ask what time it was nearly every five minutes, driving Mr. Middleton up the wall until he finally threatened that if anyone else asked for the hour, he’d throw his watch into the river and let the fish tell them! Working around this threat, Ellie moved closer to Mr. Middleton and tried peeking at his watch whenever he wasn’t looking.
Seeing that her daughter’s new tac
tic was successful, Diane made sure Mr. Middleton was distracted by Margaret before mumbling under her breath, “What time is it?”
“9:10,” Ellie whispered back.
Before Diane could sigh and wish that another hour would pass by in the next ten minutes, she felt a tug on her pole and wasted no time reeling in her line with excitement.
Margaret, leaving her half-baited hook in the capable hands of Mr. Middleton, ran to her mother and graciously offered her assistance by attempting to take the pole.
The preoccupied Diane was too excited to share this experience with her daughter and tugged at the fish with her own strength, “It’s a big one!” she exclaimed.
“Reel it in, Mom!” Margaret shouted.
By now Diane was spinning the rod’s contraption like crazy and the fishing line was taut, pulling her into the bridge’s railing. But just as quickly as she’d snagged it, the fish wriggled loose, swimming triumphantly down stream in front of the disappointed group. Margaret lingered at the bridge’s railing long after the adults lost interest, continuing to watch for the catch that got away.
Diane tried to shrug off her disappointment as she grabbed another worm to re-bait her hook, “Maybe next time. . .” she half-smiled.
“Can we go home now?” Margaret turned eagerly to her mother.
“Margaret!” Diane’s voice rang with warning as she glanced toward Mr. Middleton with a blush. She had specifically instructed Margaret that under no circumstances was she to ask to go home! Obviously, Margaret needed more practice with her listening skills. “Jim wasn’t coming to the apartment until nine,” Diane reminded her daughter calmly.
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