A Modern Day Persuasion

by Kaitlin Saunders

  Anne then moved on to the next storage container atop a stack of old trunks against the wall. Opening it, she discovered it was her old keepsake items. Anne smiled with interest and lowered the large container to the ground, seating herself next to it. An old wooden carved box caught her eye and she pulled it out.

  Inside Anne found her old report cards, a girl-scout sash and an award she’d won for the best drawing in fourth grade. She smiled at the recollection of rushing home to share the good news with her parents. The next item was Anne’s acceptance into the National Honor Society. Beneath that was a book. The title read, Persuasion by Jane Austen.

  Immediately, emotion surged inside her. The book had been a gift from Rick on her seventeenth birthday. She opened it with a sort of reverence, delicately turning its pages only to have a note slip from its hidden depths, falling to the ground. Anne’s breath caught at the sight of it.

  Setting the box down to reach for the letter, she unfolded it with shaking hands and looked tenderly at it. The letter showed evidence by its worn page that it had been read many times before being put to rest when she realized Rick was not returning. Viewing it once more would be painful, but she was willing to suffer the consequences. Slowly reading the discolored paper, Anne allowed Rick once again to enter her life.

  My Dearest Anne,

  It’s almost midnight, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I meant what I said tonight…I love you, and it’s not just a feeling that is here today and gone tomorrow—I want to spend every moment with you forever.

  Anne paused to wipe away her tears. Even now, at 25, his letter still had the power to evoke deep feelings within her. If only his words had been true.

  She remembered the day he had given her this token of his love. Rick had driven her to Multnomah Falls for a picnic dinner. It was a warm summer afternoon, and just being with him made everything perfect. He had packed fried chicken, fresh fruit, and a crusty baguette, laying a soft blanket onto the plush grass.

  Anne placed her hand to her cheek, remembering how he had softly caressed her face, his eyes expressing his unspoken affection. And then he said those three words…I love you. The memory brought more tears.

  How can someone say and write such things, but not mean them? If they really loved you so deeply, is it possible for them to simply forget you? Yet Anne believed Rick to be sincere at the time. Despite all evidence now to the contrary, in her heart, Anne wanted to hold onto the dream that maybe he still cared, or at least once in a while thought of her with tenderness. It was the only thing that kept Anne from becoming bitter. She didn’t want to think badly of him. Even after all this time, Anne held no hard feelings towards Rick. She only wished things had ended differently, but since they hadn’t, Anne hoped to someday forget those memories and once again find love.

  She folded the letter, but instead of returning it to the book, Anne decided to place it in the carved box alongside all the other letters Rick had given her. It was not Rick’s fault his feelings had changed. Rather, it was just her misfortune that Rick had taken a huge piece of her heart which she feared she’d never get back. The thought made Anne feel so empty, and the hurt seem endless. She wished she could forget everything that had happened between them—but then another part of Anne was glad she hadn’t. The happiest time in her life was when Rick loved her and they were together. But those days were long gone. Anne realized at that moment how much she had let her identity go—losing herself when Rick left. Things that had meant so much to Anne no longer brought enjoyment. Carol’s words, spoken just days ago, came crashing into her thoughts, It’s time to move on and let things lie in the past.

  Perhaps Carol was right. Since Anne had not heard from Rick after all this time, she could only assume that’s exactly what Rick had chosen to do. Yet the thought cut deep and the sensation left Anne feeling exposed, open for the whole world to see and pity. Yes, it was time to make herself forget.

  All these years, Anne still felt emotionally tied to Rick, and never really thought of herself as being single. When others showed an interest in her, Anne discouraged them, as if somehow she would be untrue to Rick. And now, just hearing his name and coming across an old letter shook her to the core! How pitiful is that! If anything, it told Anne she definitely needed to take Carol’s advice.

  In agony, Anne wondered why she had not been able to forget him. Bowing her head, she earnestly prayed, “Dear God, please remove these feelings if they are not from you. And if Rick is not meant for me, help me to accept it.”

  Later, carrying a packing crate down the stairs, Anne stopped abruptly when hearing Elizabeth’s voice. Peering over the railing, she spied her sister speaking on the phone.

  “Yes, all the arrangements have been made, Susan. The Admiral and his wife are coming over this afternoon to look at the house before the deal is finalized. My dad’s at the office, so I guess I will have to show them around.”

  At the mention of the Admiral and his wife, Anne nearly dropped the box she was carrying. The scuffing sound caught Elizabeth’s attention, causing her to look in the direction of the stairs. Anne ducked away from sight just in time.

  Elizabeth lowered her voice as a precaution, but Anne could still overhear. “I must admit, getting to meet the buyers could prove interesting. You see Anne used to date a Rick Wentworth and they got quite serious. The guy even tried to marry her! Of course, my dad didn’t approve, so Rick tried to get Anne to elope with him. Fortunately, Carol was able to talk some sense into Anne and broke up their plans. I wonder if the new owners are related.”

  Anne slowly crept back up the stairs, carefully avoiding the step with the slightly loose board that always squeaked. Exchanging her sweatshirt for a jacket and carrying her shoes, Anne tried to walk as silently as possible to the downstairs kitchen.

  Just as Anne made it to the counter to grab her keys, Elizabeth caught sight of her. “Anne! Where are you going? We’re not done yet!”

  “I, ahh…I’m almost out of packing tape. I was just going to get some more.”

  Elizabeth eyed her sister suspiciously. Luckily, Anne didn’t have to lie. She was on the last roll and only had enough tape to do a few more boxes.

  “Well, don’t be long. Susan’s coming over tonight and I want to be finished before then.” Anne nodded submissively and headed out the door.

  Once at Wal-Mart, with all the turmoil going on in her life, Anne’s willpower flew out the door. In her cart lay not only the needed rolls of packing tape, but also two large bags of Dove chocolates. That night, she was going to drown her awakened sorrows with the goodness of two familiar and delicious friends…milk and dark chocolate.

  Chapter 5

  Savoring each piece of the delectable candy, Anne sat on the couch watching her favorite movie, Sense and Sensibility. With the exception of her own bedroom and the library, the home theater was another room Anne would greatly miss.

  In this haven sat two luxurious sectional couches before a projection screen covering almost an entire wall. To complete the atmosphere, her mother installed a popcorn machine, along with a huge refrigerator cleverly designed to blend into the paneling. One could always count on finding an assortment of beverages and delicious ice cream treats housed within its doors.

  Clutching a blanket, Anne viewed the point in the movie where Marianne was atop a hill looking at Willoughby’s home, reciting a shared poem special to the couple. Anne mouthed the words simultaneously with Marianne, sharing equally in the pain. She both loved and hated this scene, as it always made Anne recall the depth of her own feelings for Rick, and the remorse she still carried within.

  As such, Anne felt a deep affinity with this heroine’s character, even in temperament and enthusiasm for life. Like Marianne, Anne had to watch the vitality she once possessed be zapped from her by the loss of Rick’s love. Although Rick was a man of character, whereas Willoughby was not, Anne could still identify with the unparalleled oneness that set Willoughby and Marianne apart from other relati
onships. Anne pondered how losing one’s first love affects a woman—it alters the way she carries herself, her thoughts about romance, and even the way she interacts with others. There’s a hidden sadness behind a woman’s eyes that never leaves, only slightly fading with the prospect of a new love. Affairs of the heart indelibly have the power to define and shape a woman.

  The shrill sound of a phone spoiled this sob-worthy moment. With mild irritation, Anne wondered if anyone would answer it. To her relief the ringing stopped. Satisfied, Anne popped another dark chocolate in her mouth only to see Elizabeth enter the room while speaking on the phone.

  “Of course Anne can go…”

  At hearing her name, Anne looked over questioningly. Elizabeth, seeing loose candy wrappers all around, sent her sibling a critical look. Anne quickly pushed the remaining evidence of the yet uneaten chocolates behind her back to avoid confiscation.

  Elizabeth lowered the phone to speak, “Anne, Mary’s sick and needs help with the boys. We’re all done here, so that means you’re not needed anymore.”

  Elizabeth’s last statement made Anne feel about as valuable as one of the empty candy wrappers lying beside her. Anne clearly wasn’t important to Elizabeth. In fact, it was hard to believe they were even sisters. After her mother died, Anne felt as if she didn’t have a family, at least not one that made her feel cared about as a person. Sure, her other sister Mary ‘needed’ her, but Anne knew it was only because Mary wanted a resident cook, bottle washer and babysitter.

  Mary, being the youngest, was used to getting her way, having been catered to excessively. To make matters worse, after losing their mother at only eleven, Mary became the prime candidate for doting old ladies and a widowed father who constantly showered her with every whim.

  However, the opportunity to escape the stress of losing their home was inviting to Anne. She shrugged and nodded in agreement.

  Elizabeth put the phone back up to her mouth and turned to leave. “Yes, she’ll come tomorrow. Okay, love you too, Sis, goodbye.”

  Chapter 6

  Anne wanted sympathy. She decided to call Carol.

  “How long will you be gone?” asked the empathetic voice over the phone.

  Turning out the lights and climbing into bed, Anne shrugged. “A few weeks…”

  “Have you thought about what you’ll do once you’re done at Mary’s?” inquired Carol.

  “I guess I’ll move to California for the time being. Dad wants me to go check out the new house. You’ll come and see it too, won’t you?” asked Anne as she plumped her pillow and repositioned herself beneath the sheets.

  “Yes, I’d love to. What about your work?”

  Anne hesitated, “I don’t know yet. I’ll finish up those designs I’ve been working on and send them to you next week.” Anne realized life was going to change rapidly for her in more ways than just business deadlines…would she be ready?

  Early the next morning, packing the last item she planned to take to Mary’s, Anne glanced around her now barren room. It was weird to think that her home, the only one she had ever known, would no longer belong to her anymore. Anne was going to miss it, even more so because of her mother. She decided to give the house one final walk-through before heading to Mary’s.

  As she toured the home, Anne couldn’t help but admire how grand it was. The Elliot estate boasted twelve large bed-rooms (not including the old servant’s quarters), each of which had their own walk-in closet and bathroom. There were two kitchens, a large study, a craft room, two dining rooms, an indoor and outdoor dinette, an in-home theatre, two family rooms, a grand living room, a dance floor, workout room, and an outdoor swimming pool and tennis court. The location of the home was ideal—just twenty-five minutes from downtown Portland, yet situated in the quiet and secluded West Hills—making it a realtor’s dream sale.

  The first room Anne meandered through was her father’s study. It was spacious with dark mahogany paneling and provided a beautiful view overlooking the well-kept backyard garden. One normally associated a study with lots of books, but Mr. Elliot’s den was the exception. A built-in flat screen television hung on the wall and reminded Anne more of a sport’s haven—her father watched football and baseball religiously. She would miss seeing him there cheering on his beloved Jets and Yankees.

  Next, Anne wandered down the long hall into the home’s craft room. This had been her mother’s favorite place in the house. Mrs. Elliot had loved scrap-booking so the room was always well stocked with supplies. Anne had come in a few times after her mother’s passing, attempting to put together a few pages of memories—but it just seemed so empty without her mother there. The large window housed inside caught Anne’s attention. It was a beautiful day, and it granted a picturesque view of the pool. Anne smiled. She had spent many hours out in that pool with her sisters. The three of them had much fun playing Marco Polo, making up synchronized swimming routines, and giving each other scores on their fantasy Olympic diving competitions. That was when Anne and her sisters were more like friends, not just siblings.

  Too bad things change. Anne wished she and her sisters were closer, but since high school they all seemed to go in separate ways. For Elizabeth, the change came after discovering she was considered a beauty. From that point on, Elizabeth only worked on her appearance, failing to develop her personality or put much emphasis on family relationships. It made Anne sad just thinking about it. To compound things, Anne had lived on campus at Willamette University and Mary had gotten married after turning eighteen. Anne mused at how different three people could be when they each shared the same two parents. She had hoped that when she moved back home from college things would be different between herself and Elizabeth, but it was in vain. Anne sensed that her eldest sister only suffered her company because she was useful and could be trusted. Elizabeth didn’t particularly care for Anne, and Carol thought it stemmed from jealousy. Anne was loved and appreciated by all, whereas Elizabeth was not.

  Anne stood outside the master bedroom, looking at the large, plushly-made four-poster bed. Since the new house was smaller, her father agreed to sell a number of furnishings to the new owners—this bed was one of them. Anne remembered the times when an occasional nightmare had awakened her, and how she’d run downstairs, seeking safety and finding it as she crawled into the arms of her parents. Anne had to confess that on some occasions, even though she wasn’t scared, she’d still use that as an excuse to snuggle between the two of them in bed. Oh, how she missed those days…and how much she would miss this house!

  Chapter 7

  Visiting Mary was not one of Anne’s favorite things to do. She loved her sister, but simply put—Mary’s world revolved around Mary. Her sister had no problem voicing her ‘sorrows’ to anyone who would listen and as a result, it dragged Anne down emotionally. Mary imagined herself frequently sick, most of the time in order to obtain attention and sympathy—two things Mary loved getting. Anne couldn’t understand how her sister’s husband, Charles, could put up with it. But then, how did Anne? The answer: they both loved Mary. Charles was exceptionally patient and although their matrimonial relationship wasn’t perfect, he usually had a way of coping with Mary’s episodes.

  In looks, Mary didn’t really favor any of the Elliot’s. Instead, she was more of a mixture of her parents, therefore creating her own unique look. Mary kept her hair curly and highlighted, suiting her round and cheerful-looking face. She was the shortest of all three girls, and had a cute figure despite being the only one of the siblings who had given birth, twice in fact. Anne adored her nephews.

  Dreading her sister’s antics, Anne chose to take the long way to Mary’s. By taking the back roads, it increased the commute by at least an hour and Anne relished the idea of having some quiet time to herself. It was a beautiful, sunny day, yet a little too hot for Anne’s liking. Clear skies and a high of 85 degrees was what the weatherman had predicted—but upon opening her window, Anne thought surely he must be off by about ten degrees. After experienci
ng the super heated blast of air, it quickly prompted the ‘no open windows’ enactment and the A/C policy was strictly enforced.

  As Anne drove along the country roads in her cute little Honda Fit, she sang out loud with the radio blaring. The accompanying road noise helped to drown out any imperfections, making Anne believe she might be a close second to Mariah Carey. Who says you can only sound good in the shower? While Anne exercised her vocal chords, her eyes feasted on the endearing scenery of long established family farms, antique homes with lovely gardens, and unending fields of local crops.

  She pushed the radio button to change the station when all of the sudden Anne heard several thumps as well as noticing a lack of control in steering. Instinctively, she slowed down and looked through the rear-view and side mirrors. The latter showed what Anne suspected—a flat tire. She pulled over and got outside the car to survey the extent of damage.

  Anne bent over to look closer at the deflated tire. To her dismay, she spotted a nail piercing the tread. Sighing, she headed back to the driver’s seat to grab her cell phone. No signal! The back roads may be beautiful, but all of the sudden, Anne felt quite isolated with no way of reaching civilization. Rolling her eyes, she trudged back to the trunk of the car to open it. How was she supposed to change this tire?! Anne had never changed one in her life. The only person she’d ever seen do this was Rick. She could still remember the event vividly.

  The two were coming back from visiting his older brother, Ethan, who pastored a church near the outskirts of town. They had attended the evening service, followed by tea and dessert at the parsonage. Pastor Wentworth was a slightly older, less athletic version of Rick who served the best carrot cake Anne had ever tasted. She had adored Ethan and the way he had made her feel so welcomed. She enjoyed her time there so much that she was sad to leave. Listening to Rick and his brother swap old stories and memories seemed ideal, so it was with regret Anne and Rick finally left to make the three hour drive back to Portland. Just an hour into the return trip, Anne had heard thumps similar to the ones experienced today, and panicked. Rick pulled over and soothingly assured her everything would be all right. Instead of getting impatient or upset about the inconvenience, Rick ended up turning the situation into something fun while he changed the tire. Before Anne knew it, they were back on the road, leaving her wishing it had taken longer. But that was just like Rick;