This post owes a great deal to the screwball comedy, particularly What's Up Doc? amongst the raft of my inspirations. Thanks, the past.

Cookies crumble

I decided a long time ago that calling home was a bad idea. If you're feeling sad, the last thing you want to hear is someone who sounds like hugs and gingerbread and riding at sunset and snickerdoodles. Yes, I'll admit, my happy memories of home are largely tied up in cookies. But on the other hand, there's nothing to dowse you with cold water like a mother's guilt. Or a sister's weirdness. Or a combination of the two.

"Hi, it's me."

"Hello." Mom still hasn't forgiven me about Bill Collins. What a surprise.

"Hi. How are you?"

"Fine." Seriously hasn't forgiven me.

"Look, Mom, I'm sorry about Bill, but I was never going to marry him. You know that."

There is silence for a minute on the other end, then a sigh. "Yeah, well, had he waited a few weeks he could have proposed to Jane, and we all know what she would have said."

"She would have said exactly the same as me, Mom. She didn't know or love him either."

Silence again. "Well it's all very annoying. I thought I had her practically married off, and yet here she is, back home again."

"I know. How's she doing?"

Mom tuts. "She's not happy. She's moping, and that will give her frown lines, and that will give her a shelf life."

All right. Crazy woman. "She's bound to meet someone else Mom. Don't give her up yet."

"Yeah, well…" mutters Mom.

"Could I talk to her?" I ask, hopeful that this could end soon.

"She's out riding with Mary," says Mom.

"Oh, good. Well at least she's not locked in her room or something."

"Yeah," mutters Mom again, darkly. "Oh, Lydia wants to talk to you…"

"OK," I say. "Well, it was nice talking to you. Speak to you soon."

"OK," she says. Clearly she isn't ready to entirely forgive me.

"I saw George again today," says Lydia, presumably as a welcome.

"What…I…hello?"

"Yeah, hi, whatever. I saw him again."

"Where?"

I can practically hear her shrugging. "In town," she says, vaguely. "He asked about you."

"Asked what?"

"How you are, what's going on, your email, that kind of thing."

Wait. What? "What? Lyddie, my email? You gave him my email address?"

A shrug again. "He's cute, and for some inexplicable reason, he seems to like you. Of course I gave it."

I sigh. "OK," I say. He was cute, and I did like him. I wouldn't mind having him in my life. It just makes things with Will more complicated. Not that you'd think that was possible, given our monumental levels of complication and weirdness. "Fine," I say. "Anything else?"

Lydia ums and ahs. "Uh, not much. Did Mom tell you about Bill Collins?"

"What, about how disappointing I am for not marrying him? Or how Jane could have instead and she was a shoe-in?"

Lydia laughs. "No, doofus, about how he's engaged to Charley."

A chill descends through the phone, somehow. "He's what?"

"Engaged? To Charley?"

"My Charley? Charlotte Lu, Charley? Little, Chinese, hot-shot lawyer…"

"Yes. Geez, what's wrong with you?"

I groan. "Oh, nothing. Just the hell mouth, opening. Look Lyds, I've got to go. Give my love to the others, especially Janey."

"Yeah OK. Tell George I think he's sexy when he emails."

"Uh, no. Speak to you soon."

"Yeah, whatever."

"OK, bye."

"Bye."

Oh hell no. I consider getting on a plane so that I can go there and slap some sense into her. I think better of it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Miri, is Charley there?"

"Yeah, look Lizzie, have you heard?"

"Boy, yeah."

"Are you going to talk her out of it?"

"For you Miri, anything."

She laughs. "He's not all that bad. He's just…not exactly who I would have picked for her."

"You and me both," I say. "Look, I'll talk, and you slap her."

She laughs again. "Sure. I'll go and get her."

"Thanks"

"Hello? Liz?"

I take a deep breath. "Hi," I say, in a measured and controlled fashion, masking all my emotion.

"You're furious and want to talk me out of it."

What is she, a ninja? "No, no," I say. Start easy, wheedle the way in. "I'm just a bit surprised."

"Surprised? You don't want to kill me?"

"No, no," I say again. "Why would I kill you? Who would I have to take shopping for cowboy boots and comedy shaped handbags if I killed you?" Good Lizzie. Smooth.

"I'm just surprised you're not here, slapping me silly."

"So am I." Oops. Oh well. I'd rather be honest anyway. "Look, I'll admit, I'm surprised and not exactly thrilled."

"Yeah, I thought as much."

"I mean, you know he proposed to me, like a month ago?"

"Yeah," she says, sounding resigned, "but you know, you missed out. He's nice, and he'll take care of me."

"Charley," I begin, "that's not all you need. You need to, I don't know, love him?"

"I do."

"What?" Seriously, what?

She sighs, and I can just see her screwing up her face. "Look, marriage isn't just about some grand passion, is it? Years go by and romance fades. You know what's left then?"

Senility? No, I can't say that… "I, uh…"

"Trust, Lizzie. Trust."

Oh. Right. I meant that. "Yeah," I say. "Is that enough for you?"

"It's all I need," she says, simply. "Everything else can follow."

I get it. Remarkably, I do. I'm not happy about it, I'm not exactly going to be doing some kind of big wedding dance, but I'm on board. Well, I'm hovering near the life rafts. OK, I'm in the life raft, waiting for the boat to sink, but when it does, I will put it back together. And I will not be smug. "OK," I say, and somehow, I think the whole Titanic metaphor is conveyed. "If you're happy then I'm happy."

"OK," she replies. "Now I just need Miri on board."

I snort. "Yeah, good luck with that."

She laughs. Wow she really is good natured. I wish I was that good natured. "Look, Bill's got a work thing at the beginning of December, and I was wondering if you'd come."

What? "To Bill's work thing?"

"Well, he's just been made partner, and his boss has apparently decided that she will host our engagement party at the same time as some big Christmas party." She pauses. "She sounds like an old dragon, and Miri was already against it enough. If you come, she might too."

I sigh, heavily, just so she knows how much I don't want to go to Bill's work thing slash engagement party. "OK," I say slowly. "I'll try."

"Ha!" cries Charley, triumphantly. "Miri, she's going to come!" Faintly in the background I hear, 'fine. I guess I will too.'

"Thank you," says Charley. "I couldn't do this without you."

I sigh again. "Sure you would. You're feisty. You could have taken that old lady."

"Maybe," she says, "but this way will by much easier. Love you Liz."

"Love you too. Bye."

Damn it.

Fr: george at jrusselonline

To: ebethbnet

Subject: Hi

Hi there. I bumped into your sister the other day and she gave me your email address. I mean, I had to ask for it first. It wasn't like she was giving it out randomly. Anyway, I thought I'd email and thank you again for your interview. It really made the article, and I've received some interest for it, so thank you. I couldn't have done it without you.

George

Fr: ebethbnet

To: george at jrusselonline

Subject: Hello to you too.

Hi.

It was a pleasure. After hanging out with all these political types for a few months, it is a breath of fresh air to get to talk to someone else. And I'm so glad it has done well. It was really well written. You clearly have a talent, even if it wasn't your intention to go that way to start with.

Stay in touch,

Lizzie

Fr: george at jrusselonline

To: ebethbnet

Subject: Hi again

Stay in touch turn out to be my three favourite words in the English language. Who knew?

How's the campaign going?- off the record of course. Are you still enjoying it? Is Bingley still as inspirational? Is Will still such an ass?

As for me, I'm stuck, working at home for a while, as I have flu. It sucks, I know. But hey, I'm having a great time watching Happy Days reruns.

You stay in touch too,

George

Fr:ebethbnet

To: george at jrusselonline

Subject: Well hello again- again.

You're ill? I hope you're better. Chicken noodle soup does it for me. That, plus old screwball comedies and peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. Wow- it's almost worth getting sick, isn't it? Enjoy the Fonz.

Stay in touch

Lizzie

Fr: george at jrusselonline

To: ebethbnet

Subject: We've got to stop meeting like this.

I'm feeling much better thank you. I'm not so sure what a screwball comedy is, but the chicken noodle soup and the cookies helped. A nice lady in my building turned up like, I'm not kidding, a minute after I read your email with them both. It was meant to be. I only wish you were here to share them with me. Then you could teach me your screwball ways.

George

Fr: ebethbnet

To: george at jrusselonline

Subject: Then stop emailing me.

Good. Look up screwball comedies online. They're too awesome for me to explain. But I would totally like a weekend off to come and watch them, particularly The Lady Eve and maybe Bringing Up Baby while eating cookies. It would be educational and nutritional. Oh, I never told you about the campaign, and that was a few weeks ago now. It's all OK. My sister has left. Various things all got a bit much, so it's suddenly a bit lonely, but it's still good. Senator Bingley is still just as inspirational. It is funny though being party to decisions. You suddenly realise that it's not just him. A lot of what he does is a group decision, or is at least talked through. It's like you suddenly understand how it all works, and that maybe it can never be as satisfying as I think it should be. I don't know. Will on the other hand is very simple- he's mad. It's the decision I've come to. There's no other explanation.

Lizzie

Fr: george at jrusselonline

To: ebethbnet

Subject: No

That would explain a lot. He done anything crazy lately?

Oh, got to go. Sorry it's so short.

Stay in touch, despite my crappy email.

George

Fr: ebethbnet

To: george at jrusselonline

Subject: Ah- you're sweet.

Oh, where'd you go? I'm guessing you're now well enough to leave your apartment. You get the skinny on some deal? I feel like Bernstein and Woodward. At the same time.

Give my love to Deep Throat.

Lizzie

Fr: george at jrusselonline

To: ebethbnet

Subject: Like sugar

Oh I was out. Like you say, getting the skinny. It's the first time I've been out in a while. That flu really knocked me back. I've been staying in watching movies.

Love,

George

Fr: ebethbnet

To: george at jrusselonline

Subject: Like a headache

I was going to be coy about this, but you big fat liar! I saw the picture of you with Mary King on People. If you're going to run around smooching hot ladies, at least choose ones that aren't routinely snapped by the paparazzi.

Anyway, I hope you've been watching good movies. None of that Adam Sandler nonsense.

Lizzie

Fr: george at jrusselonline

To: ebethbnet

Subject: Don't be like that.

Yeah. I'm sorry. I've been dating her. It's weird though, you know? I really like you Lizzie, it's just, you know, you're not here, and you can't be, and she is… I suck. I'm a truly horrible person. You should take back every nice thing you've said. I don't know how- use a vacuum maybe? Anyway, please do stay in touch. Despite my ratishness.

Love,

George

Fr: ebethbnet

To: george at jrusselonline

Subject: For you…all right then

It's alright. I couldn't expect you to want this. I'm never around. I work terrible hours. Plus, she looks really nice. Lydia phoned me the other day, scandalised that you were dating her, but, you know, you're a nice guy, she's a brilliant actress, you deserve each other. And I'm not going to take back one single thing I said. And you're not a rat. So calm down and go eat a cookie.

Love,

Liz

What's the chance? Of all the people in all the world, she had to be my aunt, and had to choose him to be partner, and he had to choose her to marry, and she had to choose Elizabeth Bennet to be her best friend. It's like fate, except worse. What's that? Doom? Oh hell.

Thanks for the reviews again, lovely people.

I really do appreciate help with inaccuracies. I'd rather correct them than look stupid. Therefore, I have edited out the whilsts. I had also entirely forgotten the whole whilst/while thing. That may come in handy. You (katesie) were also correct about the Senator thing. I had smugly written an author's note saying that Charles was not in fact a Senator, and therefore my use of Congressman was correct, except then I noticed that I called him Senator about fifteen times. So. Sorry about that. It has also been corrected.

...in fact, it has been corrected again, back the other way. Cross referencing my notes (extensive) and Wikipedia (not entirely reliable but the best I have), I realise that my mistake wasn't in referring to him as a Senator when he was in the lower house, but in thinking he was in the lower house when he is, in fact, a Senator. From Massachusetts. Incidentally, he does also have military experience. I haven't entirely decided how much. Let's say- some. I really had researched that. Maybe too much. I'm not sure how it happened. It's probably the nargles.