by Ari Rhoge
“Thanks for the meal,” Caroline said.
“Did you successfully win your war against carbohydrates?” Lizzy asked.
Caroline snapped her head back, and looked at the younger Bennet girl. “Excuse me?”
Elizabeth simply smiled back.
“I'll help you clear dishes,” Charlie said, getting to his feet. He collected the plates, and smiled genuinely at Jane. “Thank you so much for dinner — it was delicious. I'm going to have to steal that baked ziti recipe.”
“Nope — I'm guarding that one with my life,” Jane quipped. He laughed, and followed her into the kitchen. Lizzy heard them giggling, and smiled, peeling the label on her bottle thoughtfully. Jane had a cake baking in the oven, and would be preparing coffee and tea. It would give them a nice amount of time to flirt and be generally adorable. Lizzy could take one for the team.
Caroline was staring at the walls with an impassive look on her face. Her stare stopped at the window. “Jane mentioned that you and your roommate redecorated recently.”
Elizabeth looked up. “Yep.”
Caroline watched her from the corner of her eye. “It's very… farmer's-market-shabby-chic. Those drapes look exactly like my Great Aunt Stella's.” She prodded Will with her elbow. “You remember her, Will — the one who lives in the nursing home?”
“Yes.” Darcy stared at his cell phone.
“Oh, I'm so glad you noticed those curtains!” Lizzy said, happily. “They have such a wonderful story behind them.”
“Do they?” asked Caroline with fake sincerity.
“Yes! Our last resident was an 86-year-old woman, Doris Clearwater. She was savagely beaten to death over some prosthetic-hip fiasco, and it took about seven dry-cleanings to get the blood out of those drapes.” Lizzy pointed at them. “Luckily, Charlotte and I know a really skilled dry-cleaning place —— Mr. Kwan's. A little baking-soda prep before and after — and poof, good as new.” She sighed. “We thought about replacing them, but we wanted to honor the memory of poor Doris. I think it sends a good message —— that fabric can rise against violence. It's metaphoric.”
Rhiannon and Caroline were staring at Elizabeth as if they couldn't decide what facial expression was appropriate. They settled for confusion and mild disgust.
Darcy was still staring at his phone, but the corners of his mouth had lifted up. “She's joking,” he said, after a moment.
“I don't get it,” Rhiannon said.
Lizzy looked across the room at Darcy. “Am I, Mr. Darcy? Am I really?”
“Did something really happen with those curtains?” Caroline looked at them with a horrified expression.
“You've got a twisted sense of humor,” Darcy told Lizzy, taking a sip of his beer.
“Yeah, that's true. I did threaten to hurt you,” said Elizabeth. “Also, I may have entertained the idea that you clean up murder scenes for a living.”
“Darcy is a very successful lawyer,” Caroline said, pointlessly.
“What? Why would you think that?” Darcy asked Elizabeth. Caroline gaped at him, upset that she was being ignored.
“I don't know —— it's the suit,” Lizzy said, laughing. “It's suspicious, okay? I'm used to the laid back. Those are my people. You're too intense, Darcy. It's a little scary.”
“Please. You didn't seem the least bit scared during the accident —— just pissed off,” snorted Darcy. “I don't think anything scares you.”
“You may be right.” Lizzy shrugged, passively.
“Wait, this is the girl?” Caroline asked Darcy, pointing directly at Elizabeth. “This is the girl who smashed her car into yours?”
“He smashed his car into mine,” Lizzy corrected.
“Turn signal,” Will repeated.
“Oh, blow it up your ass. It was on.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Dude, don't test me. I have a cheese knife.”
Rhiannon looked back and forth as they argued, as if watching a ping-pong match.
“Do you know how much that cost me?” Darcy had scooted to the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. “The least you could do is own up to some amount of responsibility.”
“Why?” asked Elizabeth. “I don't feel like beating a dead horse.”
Darcy looked at her for a moment, and nodded in agreement. “I guess you're right.”
“Also, it wasn't my fault,” Lizzy said, quickly.
“Are you serious—?” Darcy asked, exasperated.
There was suddenly an electric hum, and everybody grew very quiet. The lights flickered for about an instant. And then everything returned to normal.
“That was odd,” Lizzy murmured, getting up. “Is it still raining out?”
A rumble of thunder could be heard outside, and then the electricity powered off, shrouding the room in absolute darkness.
“Fuck.”
“Lizzy!” Jane cried, from the kitchen.
“Come here!”
“But what about the cake!”
“Fuck the cake!”
“I'd rather not!” Charlie called.
The glow of Darcy's iPhone filled the room as he scrolled through a news app. “Apparently the roads are flooded.”
Lizzy started giggling.
“What's so funny?” he asked her.
“I didn't think there was a duller way to say that sentence.”
“I'm not staying here!” insisted Caroline. Lizzy watched her silhouette pace the room. “How are we going to get back?”
“Relax, Carrie — we'll just wait for the storm to pass,” Rhiannon assured her.
“Yeah, sit tight. We'll make it fun,” said Lizzy. “Darcy, come with me.”
“Yeah, I'm not sure if—”
“Get up!”
“Jesus, ouch! Okay, I'm up — fine!”
Lizzy and Darcy bumped into Charlie and Jane in the hall on the way to the kitchen. “Oof!” said Jane, stumbling back, Charlie steadying her. Darcy illuminated the hall with his cell phone.
“Passing through.” Charlie tipped his imaginary hat. “Hey, we'll just wait it out for a bit. I'm not driving in a place I'm not that familiar with in weather like this. Though, in hindsight, I probably should have seen this coming, given the rain.”
“Don't worry about it,” Elizabeth said. “We're just going to get candles and a flashlight — all that good stuff.”
In the kitchen, Darcy held his phone above Lizzy as she crouched low in front of the cabinets. She drew out some large candles and a battery-powered lantern. “Always prepared!” she beamed.
“I'm so proud of you,” Darcy said, dryly.
“Shut up.”
“Can you not hit me again?”
“No.”
Darcy accidentally dropped his phone, and it clattered on the floor. The kitchen was instantly black. They both squinted against the darkness.
“Shit.”
“Nice one,” Lizzy deadpanned.
“Where is it?”
“Ow, that's not it.”
“Sorry.”
“Okay, back up for a second,” Lizzy cautioned. “I'm about to get up, and I'm taking these candles with me.”
“I can't back up. Where am I supposed to back up? I'm practically up against the fridge. Or whatever this is. —— Is this the fridge?” Darcy asked.
“Are you hyperventilating? Calm down.” There was a shuffle of fabric, and then Lizzy said, “getting up slowly, ye be warned.” He waited a moment, and then she laughed. “And I'm good! Here, take this candle.”
Darcy reached his hand forward, and immediately pulled back. “That wasn't the candle, was it?”
“No, you pretty much just copped a feel. Way to be — that's appropriate. Was it good for you?”
“It's not like I did it intentionally,” Darcy said, quickly.
“Okay, I'm just going to hand these to you, one by one. Ready?”
“Yeah.”
After five solid minutes of trying very hard not to hit, bump into, insult or
unintentionally sexually harass the other, Darcy and Elizabeth managed to wander back into the living room. He had even recovered his cell phone. They lit the candles, one by one, on the coffee table. A golden light flooded the room, casting eerie shadows on the wall.
“Ghost stories. Go,” Charlie deadpanned, with a grin.
“God, Charlie, grow up,” Caroline sneered.
Charlie mimicked her, and Lizzy laughed.
Jane had brought back a bag of marshmallows from the pantry, and wooden skewers they normally used for kebabs. “Why not?” she said, shrugging when Lizzy looked at her.
“We're adorable,” Lizzy said, grinning. She passed around the bundle of skewers. The bag of marshmallows soon followed.
After a couple of minutes, everybody seemed more relaxed. Charlie sat in front of the coffee table, watching one of the flames char the marshmallow at the end of his skewer. “This kind of reminds you what things are like, you know? Without that constant stream of technology. No TV, no computer. No artificial light or LCD screens.”
“I agree,” Jane said, quietly.
Lizzy nodded her head at Darcy, whose face was tinted blue by the screen of his cell phone. “Yeah, I'm not really sure that's a sentiment felt by us all.”
Caroline was lifting her own cell phone in irritation. “Service here sucks.”
Rhiannon had fallen asleep on the couch. Caroline glared at her, as if disappointed that she had lost a sympathizer to unconsciousness.
“It's so quiet here.” Charlie looked out the window, watching the rain slash against the glass. “I love it.”
“Charlie's going to rent out a cabin and live in the woods for a year,” Will muttered.
“That's pretty Henry-David-Thoreau of you,” Lizzy said, smiling. “Bring insect repellent.”
“Will's just being a dick.”
“Thanks.”
Caroline sighed audibly, and decided to look for a whole different kind of support. She leaned her head against Darcy's shoulder, and threaded her arm with his. “What are you doing, Will?”
“Trying to check my email, and not very successfully,” Darcy said, sighing.
“You're so hardworking. You should really take a moment to relax. I hear stress is very bad for you,” Caroline insisted.
“You read that article too?” Lizzy gasped.
Charlie laughed.
Caroline's face looked somewhat frightening in candlelight. All the sharp edges that before would be considered beautiful and sculpted now made her look sinister. That she was glaring openly at Elizabeth just put the cherry on the sundae. She turned to Will again.
“Have you heard from your sister lately?” she asked.
“Earlier this week, yes,” Darcy murmured.
“Next time you talk to her, send her my love. I miss her —— such a sweetheart.”
“Caroline, you met Georgie once when we went to a Yankees game,” Charlie reminded her.
“We bonded. We text.”
“So, maybe you should be the one to send her your love,” suggested Lizzy, peeling the charred skin from a marshmallow. She smiled sunnily at Caroline.
“I have no service.”
“Pity.”
The glaring match continued. Caroline's distaste for Elizabeth was now thinly veiled — it made Lizzy smile.
“You'd think Charlotte might be back by now?” Jane said, worriedly. She checked the time on her phone.
“Please —— Charlotte left this evening with one goal in mind,” Lizzy stated. “That girl is getting some.”
Jane locked her phone. “Best not to call her, then.”
Charlie laughed.
• • •
It was after midnight before the rain came down to a drizzle, and the roads were a little more manageable, as indicated by the latest traffic report on Darcy's phone. Caroline had never been happier — she buttoned up her coat with alarming speed. Darcy shrugged into his own, and pulled his hood up. Lizzy handed him an umbrella from her closet. He thanked her awkwardly.
Charlie was the last to leave the apartment, mostly because he was saying sweet things to Jane, and had stopped to kiss her. Lizzy shamelessly eavesdropped from the kitchen. This was when the electricity managed to spark back on. The door slammed, and Jane walked back into the kitchen, flushed and grinning.
“Look!” Elizabeth cried. “Your kiss generated enough power to bring the electricity back! We can fuel the world on your love!”
“Shut up,” Jane said, laughing, and swatting her. She touched her mouth, and grinned. “Wow, I like him so much. I'm a little scared of how much I like him, Lizzy.”
“Don't be. He's wonderful — just accept it,” said Lizzy. She was loading dishes into the dishwasher, and had stopped to find a bottle of rinse aid under the sink.
Jane leaned against the counter, and watched her sister. “By the way, that was awfully thoughtful of you, lending Darcy your umbrella.” She lifted an eyebrow suggestively, and smiled.
“Oh, don't psychoanalyze it, Janie — I'm just secretly hoping he gets hit by a bolt of lightning.”
“You're terrible!” Jane laughed. “Give him a break.”
“No, thanks.”
“Will is a nice guy, I think. He's just shy.”
“We must be talking about two different people,” muttered Lizzy.
Jane sighed. “He helped you get all those candles!”
Lizzy pursed her lips to stop herself from laughing. She wasn't about to tell Jane about Will Darcy accidentally groping her. “Hey, let's go finish the wine,” she suggested. “And the cake — let's ice the cake. I need both after tonight.”
“I'm sorry, honey.” Jane hugged her, laughing.
“I'm not. You're happy — it was worth it.”
5
—
Steady, as She Goes
“What a douchenozzle.”
“Lizzy, that's not even a word.”
“Look, I can't help it that Webster is taking an exceptionally long time to respond to my emails,” said Elizabeth. She was combing through the half-off bin at H&M with Jane. Charlotte was two feet away, looking at a black tiered sweater.
“And what other words have you suggested they include in their newest edition?” Jane asked.
“Not too many. Just snickerdoodle and dipshit,” Lizzy said, nodding. “Respectively.”
“That's classy,” drawled Charlotte. “Hey, do you think I could pull off this top?” She slipped the hanger over her head so that the off-the-shoulder top draped over her chest.
“Only if you were homeless.”
“Why are you such a bitch?”
“God made me this way.”
Jane beamed at them. “It's so nice shopping with you guys.”
Charlotte sighed, and replaced the top. She placed her hands on her hips, and eyed Lizzy and Jane critically. “So, should I respond to his voicemail, or what?”
“Do you like him?” asked Jane.
“Yes.”
“So, it's settled! Go for a second date.”
“But he's such a douchenozzle!” Lizzy cried. “Yes, I said it again, and I will keep saying it — Bill Collins is a douchenozzle. And do you want to know why? Because he gets turned down by two sisters, then goes after their best friend — that's why. I don't care if he showed up at your apartment in a limo and with red roses in hand—”
“—with champagne,” added Jane.
“—that I may have finished off this morning,” Lizzy said.
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “I knew you weren't drinking coffee out of that mug!”
“Deal with it.” Elizabeth lifted her hand impatiently. “The point is that Bill Collins is all big grand gestures and no substance. He wants a lady in his life, and I think you're settling. Plus, he's a bit of a pervert.”
“He's never been fresh with me,” Charlotte reminded her. “And, yeah, maybe he's not exactly my type. But Bill has been nothing but a perfect gentleman, and I've been missing that in my life. A guy who treats
me right.”
“I still call pervert.”
“Lizzy.”
“All I'm saying is that my black underwear never mysteriously went missing before he came over,” she said, shrugging.
“Yes, well, not all of us can have perfection, personified through the likes of Charles Bingley,” Charlotte observed, arching an eyebrow. Jane smiled coyly, and blushed.
Elizabeth grinned, and playfully draped a patchwork scarf over her sister's shoulders. “No, no — we won't go there. Charlie's like Fight Club —— we don't talk about him.”
“Thank you,” said Jane, gratefully. “But, actually, we can ignore that clause in the contract for a second here, because I need your assistance tomorrow night. I have a request —— of the double-date persuasion.”
Lizzy's smile vanished, and her green eyes narrowed. “Tell me Charlie has a second best friend who wears denim and doesn't have a broomstick shoved up his ass.”
“I'm afraid not.”
“Then, no.”
“There will be food involved!”
Lizzy hesitated. “What kind of food?”
“Any kind you want.”
“I call bribe,” Charlotte chirped.
“Please.” Jane pouted, taking Lizzy's hand in hers. “I thought Charlie and I would be alone, but then he suggested that Will goes. I guess he needs a wingman. And I didn't want an awkward third-wheel scenario, so I told him I would bring you.” She lowered herself onto one knee theatrically, and batted her eyelashes. “Elizabeth Bennet, would you be my wingwoman?”
Elizabeth bit her lip, and fanned herself with one hand. “Oh, Jane. I'm not sure. This is all so sudden.”
Charlotte smirked. “She didn't even buy you a ring!”
“Just say yes,” Jane whispered, melodramatically. “Just say yes before my heart breaks into itty bitty shards!”
“Oh, what the hell,” Lizzy said, sighing. “Am I allowed to be medicated?”
“As long as you don't operate heavy machinery.”
“Then, we're good.”
• • •
The rest of Sunday passed in a blur of lesson plans, pasta, and The Nanny reruns on TV. Charlotte had perfected her Fran Drescher impression by the end of the weekend, and had succeeded in making Lizzy laugh so hard that her side began to hurt. But then Monday arrived, cruel and fresh, and Elizabeth had to leave the land of pajama pants to rejoin the world of sensible heels and pencil skirts.
