Yuletide

by Joana Starnes

  “Fine, go fishing. But rent! You don’t need to buy a house to go fishing.”

  “No, but I do need a place to lure the ladies.” Bingley gave him a wag of his eyebrows. “Can’t get laid from an investment spreadsheet, can I?”

  Darcy shrugged, feeling peevish. “You’d have to ask the guys who date your sister.”

  “Harsh!” Bingley laughed.

  They were nearly out of the airport then, the muggy heat assailing them as they left the artificial cold of the airport. They had rented a car and trudged toward the place where they would find it.

  It was Darcy’s habit by now to scan the crowd, both at the baggage claim and as they left the airport. A foolish habit because Elizabeth Darcy didn’t exist and probably never would. It gave him a sinking sensation every time he acknowledged it to himself, but it was getting better. He was learning to accept his lonely reality.

  It was these thoughts that were in his mind when Bingley informed him of his plans for the evening. “House of Blues, good band… We’ll have fun, meet some girls.”

  Darcy groaned, thinking that it sounded like the complete opposite of anything he’d be interested in doing. But he reminded himself he would never have a wife if he never forced himself to meet women. So he’d go.

  House of Blues was the antithesis of anything Darcy had ever, in his life, found even remotely pleasurable. It was tacky and overly commercialized; the music was too loud, and the room was too crowded and too lit by neon, and he hated it all with a passion.

  “These girls are Georgiana’s age,” he exclaimed looking around him.

  “Spring break for some places,” Bingley grinned. “Just make sure to check ID before you take anyone home with you.” He then burst into maniacal laughter, knowing that no one was less likely to end up with someone than Darcy.

  “Let’s just go have a drink somewhere else. Somewhere with actual adults in it.”

  “Are you kidding? Look at the women in this place—uncommonly hot, Darcy. Don’t be so determined to hate everything. You might surprise yourself and actually have a good time once in a while.”

  Darcy tried one last time as he ordered their drinks at the bar. “Didn’t you want to get an early start tomorrow? Out on the bay by seven, wasn’t that the way?”

  “Yep.” Bingley was already eagerly eying the talent on the dance floor. “Good thing we’re young, right? Guess your insomnia really comes in handy in situations like this.”

  An hour later, Darcy had a headache that throbbed in time with the pulse of the loud, techno music. A drunken bachelorette party had descended upon the area where he sat, commandeering the rest of the chairs from his little table and subjecting him to way too much of their conversation, which mostly centered on sex, male genitalia, and the butts of the men in their respective lines of sight.

  “Darcy!” Bingley arrived with gusto, sloshing his drink into his friend’s hair before attempting to sit where there wasn’t any seat. “Oops! Hold up.” He turned, somehow located a chair and pulled it up.

  “Are you wasted?” Darcy frowned at him.

  “I’m drunk with love.” Bingley sighed.

  “Not again.” Darcy shook his head. “Bingley, I forbid you to bring someone home.”

  Bingley sat up straight. “I don’t even want to bring her back to the condo. This is my future wife, Darcy, and I can’t sully that with a cheap bar hook-up.”

  “Future wife?” Darcy moaned. “Okay. Well, now that you’ve met a future wife, can we leave?”

  “No way! I just came over to get you out there with us. She’s right over there… This is her friend’s bachelorette weekend.”

  Bingley gestured, and Darcy obligingly looked where he pointed. Hot blonde at nine o’clock—she was vaguely familiar somehow. Did he know her? He puzzled over it a moment before dismissing the idea. In any case, she was certainly a beauty. Totally Bingley’s type.

  Bingley sighed, clearly rapturous. “Florida is just full of beautiful women, isn’t it? All so tan…”

  Darcy gave a quick glance around him, seeing orange-hued skin and bright, too-tight clothing, much of which resembled workout apparel—and that did not include the bachelorette party.

  “I assure you, you’ve managed to find the only beautiful woman among this tribe of phallus-festooned hussies. Can we please just go?”

  “A few more dances, okay? I know you’re bored—you should dance with her sister! We can all hang out together!”

  “What? Absolutely not.”

  “Yes!” Bingley was warming to the idea. “Wouldn’t it be better to just dance than sit here nursing a watery drink in the corner? Come on. Her sister is cute and seems like a lot of fun.”

  “You think I’m going to dance in a place like this? Forget it. I’m not sure which of these…charming ladies”—making it clear he thought they were anything but that—“is her sister, but I will go ahead and give you a comprehensive ‘hell no’ that covers the lot of them. Sound good?”

  “Works for me.” A feminine voice came from behind him.

  He whirled around, and his heart plummeted into his shoes. For a moment he could do nothing but gape at her stupidly.

  It was Elizabeth.

  His eyes moved over her, rapidly seeing the hair, the body, the eyes…all of it, just like he knew it would be. Her. His Elizabeth, Elizabeth Darcy, right here, standing in front of him. All of his searching, the waiting…she was right here, in Florida of all places.

  Disbelief and excitement dumbfounded him; he could not even speak.

  Excitement gave way to alarm as he realized she had pushed by him, leaving him. Without thinking he reached out, grabbing her by her arm. “Wait! Elizabeth!”

  She whirled around, jerking her arm out of his grasp. “Hey!” She poked her finger into his chest. “Back off!”

  “Sorry!” He reached for her again, but she took a step away, nimbly evading him. “Elizabeth, please, just stay a minute.”

  She glared at him fiercely. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d do best to get out of my way immediately, if not sooner.”

  This was said between clenched teeth, and he added “perfect smile” to the list of things he found beautiful about her. He had never felt so stupid in his life, staring at her, beauty and fury personified. Her eyes were magnificent, ablaze with anger, and her full lips were parted, releasing huffs of indignation.

  He thought it was entirely likely he should be feeling terror. Instead he was overwhelmed with desire as well as concerned that he would forget himself and crush her to his chest in a passionate kiss, thus getting himself punched in the process.

  His emotions prohibited rationality so, completely incongruously, he found himself sticking his right hand out toward her. “I’m Will Darcy.”

  She crossed her arms across her chest. “How do you know my name? Have we met?”

  “I… Yes, we’ve met. In a manner of speaking.” He shook his head, still feeling a bit stunned. “I just can’t believe you live in Florida.”

  “If you’ve met me before, then you should know I don’t live in Florida,” she snapped at him.

  “You don’t? Where do you live?”

  She stared at him.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about the…about the grabbing thing. I was just really excited to see you.” He smiled then. “I’m harmless, really.”

  She was still giving him an incredulous look and appeared to be slowly widening the gap between them.

  “How about this,” he suggested, edging a bit closer to her. “I’ll put my hands behind my back. That way, if I do anything else to upset you, you’ve got a free shot. Sound good?”

  “Free shot?” She raised one eyebrow. “Where?”

  “Anywhere you want,” he told her, putting his hands behind him as promised. “Stomach, groin, face… Try to spare the face though, please. I have a really irritating cousin who will want explanations if I return to New York with a broken nose.”

  She stared in surprise for
a moment before laughing. “So we’re both New Yorkers then.”

  “You live in New York!” His hands flew forward, reaching for her, but he stopped himself just in time. He carefully folded his arms behind himself again. “That’s great!”

  She frowned at him, but the fury had disappeared from her eyes.

  Just then, Bingley, who had sidled off sometime during the altercation with Elizabeth, returned with his new love at his side. She was blonde and angelic and gave them a kind smile, oblivious to the psychotic undercurrent around her.

  “You must be Darcy,” she said warmly, extending her hand. “I’m Jane Bennet, Elizabeth’s sister.”

  His eyes went wide. Jane Bingley! He nearly laughed. Well, Bingley might think he met his future wife often enough but, in this case, it seemed he would be right.

  “It’s great to meet you, Jane,” he said warmly.

  Bingley beamed at Jane before leaning in to hug Elizabeth. “Well, this is great! Elizabeth, I’m Charles. Great to meet you!”

  A few moments of chat ensued. Elizabeth continued to look warily at Darcy, and Darcy continued to scramble mentally for a way to prolong their encounter. He had to get to know her more than a two-minute conversation in a bar afforded.

  It was Bingley who had the solution. “How about a late dinner, ladies?”

  “No, I don’t think we can…” Elizabeth’s protests were halted as soon as she glanced at Jane, whose eyes were clearly pleading her to go. “Maybe just something quick.”

  They found themselves in some sort of horrid chain diner-like place that boasted an all-you-can-eat breakfast bar which was open and available twenty-four hours a day. Darcy himself would have preferred to lick sand than eat from it, but Bingley exclaimed in delight and tucked in. The rest of them drank coffee and got to know one another.

  Darcy was content to sit and stare at Elizabeth, lost in his admiration of her until she said, “Would you mind?”

  “Would I mind what?”

  “Perhaps you could blink or something once in a while.” She gave him a raised eyebrow look. “Are you recently released from prison or something? It’s like you’ve never seen a woman before.”

  He chuckled. “No, I haven’t been to prison.”

  “It’s weird to sit here totally silent. We should have some conversation, not just you staring at me while I pretend not to notice you.”

  “So let’s talk,” he said. He cast about for a suitable topic. “Do you often come to Florida?”

  “First time,” she said. “My friend Charlotte is getting married, and apparently Disney is her idea of an amazing bachelorette party.”

  Conversation began in fits and starts, but soon they were talking as if they had known one another for some time.

  Elizabeth, he learned, worked in publishing. “At the most junior level,” she said. “Terrible pay, long hours, and very little respect, but I get paid to read all day.”

  The more he learned about her, the more he knew this was it, and it was real. The particulars didn’t really matter.

  What struck him was the feeling of connection to her, a similarity in mind and understanding that he knew would serve them well as they deepened their relationship.

  Then a terrible thought struck him: what if she did not fall in love with him? Maybe she was already involved with someone. Maybe she was already in love.

  The conversation had faltered, one of those natural pauses in conversation. He took a sip of his coffee and said, “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “When we’re back in New York, will you go out with me?”

  She looked a little awkward.

  “Are you with someone? I mean, you know, dating or maybe serious or even—”

  “No, no. It’s not that,” she said. “I’m… I’m single.”

  “You’re not interested,” he said, trying not to show his keen dismay. “I improve on further acquaintance. Really I do, I promise. Look how much more you like me already; you hated me in the club, and now we’re sitting here having a nice conversation. Just imagine how much better I’ll get once I’m back home.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure you will. No, it’s just I’ve had some bad experiences with men lately and my New Year’s resolution to myself was to just take a break from the whole scene.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” he said. “How about a permanent break?”

  “A permanent break?”

  “There are two ways to have the break you promised yourself,” he told her. “One is no men at all, and two is just one man: the right man. No heartbreak, no complications, just falling in love, and building a life together.”

  She laughed. “That sounds great—in theory. However, experience has shown me that every guy is the right guy at the beginning.”

  “I’m the right guy for you,” he told her, his voice quiet but determined. “Beginning, middle, and end. You might not realize that yet, but it’s true. Give me a chance and I’ll give you a happy life.”

  “This is insane.” She laughed uncomfortably. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. What on earth would make you say these things?”

  “Just trust me. I know.”

  She blushed, staring at him. Her mouth opened and she formed several words, beginnings of sentences, but never uttered a sound. Finally she said, “Do you always come on this strong?”

  “No, never.”

  “Really?”

  Without taking his eyes off of her, he said, “Bingley.”

  Bingley managed to tear his attention away from Jane. “What?”

  “Would you describe me as the sort of man who comes on strong to women?”

  “What?” Bingley laughed. “Is this a joke of some sort?”

  “No,” Darcy said, his eyes still on Elizabeth. “Do I? Do I tend to come on strong to women?”

  “Have you ever even asked a woman out?” Bingley said, shaking his head. “No, Darcy doesn’t come on strong. In fact, he doesn’t really come on at all. The women generally do the work for him while he tries to escape them.”

  They all laughed a bit, and then Jane and Bingley turned back to their own conversation, leaving Darcy and Elizabeth to theirs.

  “A chance,” he said. “A date, maybe two. The rest will take care of itself.”

  She considered it a moment while he held his breath, at last saying, “Okay. When we get back to New York, we’ll go out.”

  December 2015

  And now, here we are, he thought, smiling as he unwrapped the wishing ornament. Right where we were meant to be.

  Not that it had been completely easy. The chemistry between them was undeniable from the start, as well the friendship they formed easily and naturally. However, they had had more than a few explosive arguments. She misjudged him, and he tended to say whatever he thought with little-to-no forethought. They worked it out, though, and every time, they ended up closer than when they’d begun.

  He had known he would fall in love but, somewhere along the way, he’d realized he was already there. Not too long after that, she returned his feelings and it had been bliss ever since.

  So tonight, one year to the day when he had opened his own ornament…

  He looked at the smooth heavy orb in his hands, feeling a thrill of anticipation mingle with nerves and anxiety, and just about everything else.

  It was a new wishing ball that he held in his hand; his was already on the tree. The one in his hand was engraved with her initial—just an E—and contained a little surprise inside of it.

  “So can I come in there now?” She smiled as she came into the room.

  “I’m ready for you.” He handed her the ornament. “This is for you.”

  “It’s cute,” she said. “Little silver bauble, huh? Should I just hang it on your tree?”

  “It’s a wishing ornament,” he explained. “You put your wish inside and it comes true.”

  She shook it. “Sounds like something is already in there. You didn’t steal my wish,
did you?”

  “I’m hoping what’s in there is a wish for us both.”

  “For us both?” Her teasing tone left her as realization dawned on her, and she looked more earnestly at the ornament. “Oh.”

  “Why don’t you open it and look?”

  She gave him a smile that already looked a little tremulous before pressing the little latch and revealing the contents. It was a slip of paper and he noted, with some satisfaction, the fleeting expression of disappointment on her face.

  She unfolded the paper and laughed a little before reading aloud the words he had written: “You didn’t really think I’d put a ring in a Christmas ornament, did you?”

  “Fitzwilliam Darcy you are a—” The words died on her lips as she raised her eyes and found him on one knee in front of her. Tears immediately formed in her eyes, making them look shiny and even more beautiful than usual. “Oh, Will…”

  He took her hand, kissing it gently before looking into her eyes. “Elizabeth, I love you. And I know beyond any doubt that you are the one for me. I don’t want anything else but to make you happy for the rest of your life.” He kissed her hand again before whispering, “Please marry me.”

  It wasn’t until several hours later that he was able to get a picture, a close-up of her beautiful left hand wearing his mother’s ring.

  December 2016

  “Look! Our ornaments!” Elizabeth pulled both of the ornaments out of the storage box, smiling fondly.

  “Hard to believe that, last year this time, we were just getting engaged.”

  “The year has flown by.”

  “Best year of my life.”

  “Mine too, honey,” he said, before kissing her lightly on the nose. He reached up to put his ornament on the tree.

  “Wait.” She put her hand on his to stop him. “Don’t you want to look inside?”

  “You just got it out of the storage box. How could it have something inside of it?”

  She shrugged. “Just check.”

  He looked at her carefully, seeing nothing but benign good humor in her eyes. He knew what he’d wish for, though it was something of a secret wish. Although they had only been married since June, he wasn’t getting any younger and he was ready to start a family.