He also thought about what parents give up for their children…how their lives change in an instant and, yet, how their relationships also grow into something more precious than words could express.
How could he explain his admiration and devotion toward his mom? How could he quantify Beth’s love for her son? There were a million things these days he couldn’t seem to put into words. But there were a few he could.
He switched on his computer, logged on to his email account and clicked on COMPOSE.
What to type? Maybe something simple like…Hi there, Beth. Long time, no email.
No. Too flippant.
Or maybe, We have some unfinished business, Beth. Can we get together and discuss a few things?
Definitely, no. Too cold. Too rational.
Or he could just be honest and write, Beth, it was unbelievably hard seeing you here in the ER today. To have you so near and, yet, not be able to hug you or tell you how much I’ve missed your company—it was painful. You’ve got me rethinking everything. Being with you on our few dates gave me something wonderful to look forward to and, despite all that happened, I miss that.
Hell, no. He didn’t need to sound like a ridiculous greeting card. Even if the words were true.
He sighed loudly, touched his fingers to the keyboard and tried again.
Beth, I’d like it if we could talk. Would you be willing to meet me at the Koffee Haus sometime this weekend? Please let me know. I hope Charlie’s recovery is going smoothly. Best wishes to you both.—Will.
He read it over twice then hit SEND.
***
Bingley was waiting for him in the cafeteria an hour later.
“What now?” Will said, none too politely.
His cousin stroked the darkening bruise near his chin, and Will felt a surge of guilt. Then he remembered his cousin’s interfering behavior. He clenched his jaw.
“You really love her, eh?” Bingley said.
“Yes, you meddling fool. I told you so before. Please, would you stop playing stupid games for five minutes? I need some coffee.”
“Oh, they’re not so stupid, Cuz,” Bingley said, handing him a tall Mocha Java in a Koffee Haus cup. Still hot. “You may have had a reason to punch me today, I’ll concede, but you didn’t let me explain where I was these past few days.”
“Okay, I’ll play along one last time. Where were you?”
“Europe.”
Will froze. “Why? Are your parents okay?”
“Yep. Popped over there to wish Mom a Happy Mother’s Day in Florence. Ate a big piece of birthday tiramisu. Got it all in just under the wire Sunday. Then I headed north across the border. Wanted to authorize in person a very large withdrawal from one of my Swiss accounts.”
Will eyed the paper his cousin pulled out from his breast pocket. It couldn’t be. But, from the smug look on Bingley’s face, it was. “You’re funding the clinic?”
“Smart guy, aren’t you?” He handed Will the paper. “This is a copy of the transfer of cash from my account to one I set up for the clinic.”
Will swallowed and read the banker-speak on the page. “Much as I appreciate this, I’ve gotta ask…why? I didn’t get in the five dates before your birthday. Why did you change your mind?”
Bingley rolled his eyes. “For someone with such a big brain, you can be a real dummy. I never cared about the number of dates, Cuz. I only cared where your heart was in the middle of this mess. When you admitted you loved her, that was all I needed to know.”
“Oh.” Will couldn’t think of another word at that moment.
“But tell me,” his cousin said with a wicked twinkle in his eye, “do you think she loves you back?”
***
Beth studied Will’s message, reading it not once, not twice, but a full fifteen times before it registered. Could he actually want to see her again…after everything? Impossible. But there it was, documented in cyber text, with a printable hardcopy of the words he’d sent just a click away.
She typed, Saturday. Ten a.m. and sent it. Then she slumped in her chair.
She doubted his interest in meeting her had anything at all to do with getting back together romantically. He probably just had some residual anger he wanted to get off his chest.
Fair enough.
It was one of those events she needed to be present at. Something she’d done that she’d have to take responsibility for. What was it Mrs. Hammond had said? That she should face the choices she’d made and didn’t make… Beth’s choices had led her to this moment. She needed to be a grownup and do the right thing. Let Will have his say tomorrow. She owed him that.
The next day couldn’t come too quickly. They met at the agreed upon time and, when she first spotted him, she drew in an anxious breath. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee had never been so nauseating.
“Hello, Will,” she managed.
His forehead creased and his lips tightened. “Beth. Hi, there.” He motioned toward a table. “What can I get you? A Kenyan? A Kona? Something else?”
She began to shake her head and was about to say, Nothing, thanks—but then she realized she wouldn’t have anything to do with her hands if she refused. “Anything,” she said instead. “Whatever you think is different or unusually good.”
An odd light sprang into his eyes. Approval? She didn’t bother trying to figure it out. He might be glad she was being more adventurous in her coffee drinking, but he hardly approved of her on a personal level. He’d lost the bet and the funding for the clinic because he couldn’t bring himself to ask her out a fifth time. Not once he knew who she really was. At least, not until today.
“Be right back,” he said. And sure enough, a few minutes of heart-pounding solitude later, he returned with two steaming grande mugs. “Amaretto Cherry. Decaf. It’s considered the ‘Sweethearts’ Flavor of the Month.”
He said this without sarcasm. She eyed him sharply. He said this without rolling his eyes or scowling. What was going on here?
“Um, thanks,” she murmured, sniffing it. Even her rebellious stomach didn’t seem to mind this one. “Smells great.”
He plopped a bag of oatmeal-raisin cookies on the table in front of her and sat down. This was so reminiscent of their first date she almost cried.
Instead, she took a cautious sip.
“So, how’s your research paper coming along?” he asked.
She choked on her coffee. “What?”
He wore a straight face. No hint of mockery. “The research project you were working on. Finished yet?”
“W-well, yes.”
The corners of his lips tilted precariously upward. He couldn’t possibly be smiling…could he?
“How did I do?” he said. “All in all, did I provide enough information for your sociology experiment?”
Okay. Now there was an edge of something more dangerous in his tone. “I—I tried to be completely fair in my evaluation. I’d been looking at gender-role stereotypes and—” She paused. “Why are we talking about this? You can’t possibly want to know the details of my study.”
“Sure I can. It was, after all, what brought you to me in the first place. Your reason for our paths crossing.”
She looked down at her coffee and fingered the smooth rim. “Will, pretending to be someone else to gather research for my class was wrong. Truly wrong. But not only for the obvious reasons. Putting false personal data on the Love Match website was clearly not me at my most candid. Lying to your face wasn’t especially ethical either. But I also lied to myself. A part of me really wanted to be Charlotte Lucas for a while. A part of me wanted to be the kind of woman a man like you would’ve been interested in.”
She got up to leave. She knew her eyes couldn’t keep the tears from flowing for long, and she had to get out of there soon. Very soon.
“Sit down, Beth. We’re not through talking yet. At least—” He gave her a guarded look. “At least I’m not through.” He paused again and nodded toward her chair. “Please.”
&nbs
p; She exhaled slowly and returned to her seat, snatching a Koffee Haus napkin from the table and crushing it.
“Thank you,” he said.
Beth took a long, hot gulp of Amaretto Cherry and searched the room for any excuse to break eye contact with Will. She spotted the sugar packets on the table, grabbed one and made a production of tearing it open and stirring its contents into her drink.
“Cookie?” he asked.
Another possible fidgeting object. Just what she needed. “Yes, please.”
He held open the plastic bag. “So, how’s Charlie doing? His arm? His face? Are the cast and stitches getting on his nerves yet?”
She reached into the bag. At any other time she would’ve laughed at the normalcy of their conversation and their actions. Bystanders might think they were Just Another Couple—eating, drinking, chatting. They’d be wrong.
“No,” she said, biting into a cookie that rivaled one of Grandma Kate’s and striving to keep her voice steady. “So far he still sees them as honor badges. His best friend Mikey stopped by last night to bring over a get-well card and to sign the cast. He treated Charlie like a celebrity.”
“And what about you? Have you recovered from the shock of it all?”
“Of Charlie being rushed to the ER? Oh, no. I imagine it’ll be months before I stop having nightmares about it. As it is, I’m pretty sure it took five years off my life.”
She listened to herself playing this small-talk charade with Will and very nearly rolled her eyes. She wished he’d get to the point and say what he needed to say. She wanted them to stop making sport of this discussion. It required more endurance than a marathon…or a Cubs doubleheader. But Will, it seemed, had no intention of putting her out of her misery anytime soon, and she was at a loss for a way to get him to move things along.
“Charlie was an incredibly stoic patient for a six year old. I was impressed,” he said.
“Thanks.” She hesitated. “Look, about all that. Thank you for treating him so kindly when he was at the hospital and for the way—”
“You already thanked me yesterday. I’m glad I could be there to help.” He stopped, pinged his fingernail against his coffee cup and then shoved the half-full mug away from him. “Why did you decide to meet me here today, Beth?”
She almost laughed. This was the guy who’d accused her of asking too many peculiar questions. “I’m not sure what you mean. I met you because you asked me to.”
“No, I know. I meant, seriously, why did you agree to it? What were the reasons you gave yourself for coming?”
She put down what was left of her cookie. “Well, I felt I owed you that much. You said you wanted to talk, and I thought it was a fair request.”
His lips thinned to razor-sharp lines. “So, your being here has to do with acting equitably and paying off a type of emotional debt.” He closed his eyes. “And when you got up to leave a few minutes ago, did you imagine you’d already accomplished that goal?”
She tossed her crinkled napkin on the table. “I don’t know what you want from me, Will. I came because you asked me to. I stayed for the same reason. If I didn’t respect you and greatly care about your feelings, I wouldn’t be sitting here still. I guess I shouldn’t be anymore.” She pushed her chair back and got to her feet. “I’ve apologized over and over, but I can’t make you forgive me. If you don’t, you don’t. I have no choice but to accept that.”
“Not so fast, Beth.”
What now? “You can’t keep calling me back while at the same time pushing me away. Thanks for the coffee, but I—”
“You apologized, but I didn’t.” He put his head in his palms and rocked slowly in place. Right there at the table. Beth glanced around but nobody seemed to be watching them. For the second time in five minutes, she sat back down, across from him, and she tried to understand what was happening here.
“What are you talking about?” she said.
“I haven’t had a chance yet to apologize to you.” He whispered these words but they were crystal clear. A loudspeaker couldn’t have announced his intentions more dramatically. He wanted to say he was sorry?
“What for?” she said before realizing he was probably talking about the bet. “Look, if this is about Bingley’s—”
“For waiting this long,” he interrupted her, “to admit aloud to you, and to myself, that I’ve fallen in love with you.” He met her gaze and held it.
She pushed both her coffee and her cookie away and blinked. If other people were talking in the room, she could no longer hear them. If a light breeze from Lake Michigan blew by, she’d topple over. If someone asked if she could feel her legs, she wouldn’t be able to reply because, A, she couldn’t feel any physical sensations at all aside from the hammering of her heart and, B, she also couldn’t speak to save her life.
Fortunately, Will didn’t require an immediate response.
“I fell in love with you twice. When you were ‘Charlotte’ I loved your energy, your intelligence, the three million questions you asked, the way you charmed my mother, your beauty and the fact that every time I thought about you I smiled.”
He paused. She managed a small nod of acknowledgment.
“When I realized you were ‘Beth’ I loved all those ‘Charlotte’ things plus the devotion you showed to your son and the kindness you showed to my crazy, well-intentioned cousin and the loyalty you showed to your friend Jane and the dedication you showed toward your job. Any chance I could get a few of those qualities directed toward me?”
She recovered a teensy part of her voice. “But I thought…I, um, I—” Then a realization hit her. “Oh, wait. This is about the clinic somehow, isn’t it? You got Bingley to extend the deadline, maybe, or to—”
“No. I don’t have any outside conditions that need to be satisfied. I asked you here because I wanted to be with you. Bingley did come back to see me, that’s true, but it wasn’t until after I’d sent you that last email asking for this meeting.”
Then he explained, to her growing surprise, how Bingley gave him the money anyway, just based on Will’s feelings for her. “So, this is not about some juvenile bet. It’s not about the clinic in any way. It’s not about anything outside of the two of us, Beth. It’s about only us. Together.”
“R-really?”
“Yes, really. But I don’t actually know where I stand on this one at all. You seemed to like me when you were Charlotte Lucas, but this woman…Beth Bennet…I don’t know what she thinks.”
When sensation began to rush back into her body, it started with her head. Tears she’d hoped would stay at bay began pooling in her eyes. She forced them back and swallowed. “Will, certain essential things about me haven’t changed. I’m still planning on being a social worker—”
“I know. Dan told me. And you’re not the one assigned to be my consultant for the clinic. I know that, too.”
“So, what then? You don’t have a problem with my occupation now?”
He shook his head, but very slightly. “In my opinion, a social worker trained under Dan Noelen is of a special breed. It’ll probably take me some time to accept that social workers in general are not the evil beings I once thought they were. It’s an emotional not rational impulse, deep-seated from childhood. But Dan’s earned my respect and so have you. I guess, one person at a time, I’m learning to see your profession differently.”
Her heart began to flutter around in her chest. She’d earned his respect? “But how can you discount the lies I told you? They were the kind of lies you despised the most. Lies about my essential self.” She stared at him, trying to see into his soul and not sure if what she was reading was his affection or just her wishful thinking reflected back. “You’ve forgiven me then?”
He reached across the tiny table and grasped her hands. “Yes, Beth. What I’m asking, though, here and now, is if you’ve forgiven me. I lied to you, too. My motives for getting on the Lady Catherine site weren’t pure either, even though I genuinely liked you once we met face to face
.” He squeezed her fingers tighter. “You were right when you said there was no such thing as degrees of lying. Regardless of my reasons for doing it, the result was the same. I wasn’t truthful with you…but now I want to be.”
The love she felt for this man, all the feelings of warmth and happiness, began to swell inside her heart. She smiled at him, trying to pour every one of those delectable emotions into it. He smiled back, happiness lighting up his face.
“Of course I forgive you…” She paused, though, as the rest of their conflict came rushing back to her. “Oh.”
“What’s the ‘Oh’ for?”
“Charlie.”
Will’s blue eyes met her brown ones. “I hadn’t forgotten you have a son.”
“But would you be prepared to be a part of his life? Would you let him into yours?” Speaking became a struggle, but she continued, “I remember you said you didn’t ever want to be involved with single mothers. And you didn’t want the pressure of being put in that—how did you explain it? That ‘B team’ role.”
“Something you need to understand, Beth. I’m not always consistent or predictable. Changing my mind is not impossible.” He threw her a small grin as if his latest statement were news to her.
“Perhaps not, but jumping into Charlie’s world and welcoming him into yours isn’t an activity that can be chosen lightly or be easily discarded.”
“I wouldn’t be taking it lightly,” he replied. “And I’m not planning on doing any discarding.”
She looked at him, pretty sure her facial expression revealed as much wariness as she felt. “Will—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “No. You’re not listening here. Not that I blame you for being skeptical, but something happened to me this spring. Something you caused.” He brought her palm to his chest. “Feel my heart. It’s beating wildly.” And, sure enough, she could feel it pounding away under his shirt. “This is because of my boundless affection for you… and because of the hopefulness that fills me whenever I’m around Charlie.”
Pride, Prejudice and the Perfect Match Page 16
