"The emergency numbers are on the fridge. Do not give soda to the kids. I monitor their soda intake more carefully then the FDA monitors drugs. So, please, do not let them convince you that I allow them to drink soda whenever they want. They are allowed to drink juice, but not at night since that causes cavities. Olive is really allergic to nuts, so please make sure to read the ingredients section before giving her anything to eat. The food in the house should be safe, but if you buy something, please make sure it does not have nuts or was processed in a place that had nuts. She has her Epi-Pen if something does happen. The medicines are in the cabinet beside the silverware, if anything happens, make sure to read the instructions clearly; I don't want you overdosing my children. If they get a fever, run them a bath and call me…no, better yet, take them to the hospital. David is grounded, so he can't play video games. And James…well, he's James, so…yeah. Any questions?"
I look at Richard who is going to babysit them for an hour while I get Jane. I asked them if they wanted to come along but apparently they didn't want to join me in my great adventure.
"Don't worry, they'll be safe with me. You leave them in capable hands. And honestly, it's only going to be one hour. How much trouble could they get in in one hour?"
Tilting my head I give him my 'are-you-serious?' look. Has Richard not met my kids? You leave my kids alone for an hour and they would probably single handily start the apocalypse.
Gosh, I hope I'm not making a mistake by leaving my children with the overgrown child that is Richard. Mary is getting off from work in an hour and Charlotte is working the night shift. And my mother…well, the kids don't want her near them, not even with a ten feet pole. So that only left Richard-I never want to grow up- Fitzwilliam.
"Honestly Lizzy, they'll be safe - who else do you know that will keep your children safe in the case of an emergency?"
That's true.
"We'll be fine, mom." James says trying to calm me down. I look at him and he gives me a reassuring small smile before looking down at the wires sprawled across the dining room table.
"By the way," Richard whispers, trying to avoid the children listening in to what he's going to tell me, "what are they doing?" He asks nodding to where James and Olive are bickering over the dining room table that is covered in wires, tools and metal things that I don't know the names of.
"We're building a computer that runs by solar panels." Olive responds not caring that the question wasn't directed at her. She says it so simple as if it was normal for eleven year old kids to spend their time building solar panel computers.
"Your kids are weird." He says starring at my children, then he laughs when he looks at me. "Then again, their mother is weird." He scrunches up his nose as he looks at what I'm wearing. "Are you seriously going to leave the house looking like that? At least wear jeans."
I look down to what I'm wearing. David's shirt with all the Marvel superheroes on it and yoga pants. I don't see how this is bad. My outfit is comfortable. Big thanks to whoever invented yoga pants. Was I just being lazy all day or did I just come from the gym? The world will never know.
Honestly, best invention ever. They're comfortable and I use them more to lounge around the house than as actual exercise clothes. Because everyone knows I don't exercise, don't have time for that. They make the bridge of staying at home and going out almost nonexistent since I can look nice without looking like I'm a slob. They make me look presentable wherever I go. Because in clothes I only have two defaults: either rocking the clean-face-homeless look or I'm dressed in a pencil skirt and suit with inches of makeup while I work.
There is no in between.
So, yeah, I feel offended that Richard is criticizing my appearance.
"I'm only going to pick up Jane." I respond, "No need to get dressed up."
He just stares at me with his big green eyes, surprised that I have the courage to go out looking like this.
But it's not courage, it's laziness.
Pulling my hair up I continue talking as he continues to stare judgmentally at my appearance. "By the way, Mary is coming in an hour, if I'm not home by then, she's going to take care of them." Don't get me wrong I trust him, but I don't trust him enough to take care of my children properly for longer than an hour.
I quickly put on my flip flops as I dash outside. The quicker I get to Jane the quicker I get back to watch a marathon of America's Next Top Model.
Imagine my surprise when I'm on the road and I enter in the GPS the address to the Netherfield hotel and Siri tells me that I'm two hours away from my destination?
Aww, hell no! Jane can stay one more night with Princess Ariel. I'll pick her up tomorrow. Grabbing my phone I dial Jane to tell her that there is no way in heaven or hell that I'm driving all the way over there this late at night. Okay it's not late, but it's 8 at night and that is late for me.
But I have the worst luck ever because I call her 4 times and the 4 times it goes directly to voicemail.
Well, I could go back home and if Jane complains that I didn't pick her up I can just say that I called her but she never picked up the phone…
But she would stay up all night worrying about why I didn't pick her up, thinking of all the things that might have happened to me.
Ugh, why do I have to have a conscious?
Grumpily and against my will I call Richard to let him know that his babysitting skills will be needed longer since I'm making a short road trip. But I assure him I would definitely be home by midnight.
When I'm 30 minutes away from Netherfield, it starts raining. Just what I needed, the universe is out to get me.
When I'm 15 minutes away from Netherfield hotel, my car starts making a beeping noise informing me that I'm almost out of gas.
When I'm 14 minutes away from Netherfield, my phone battery dies.
By minute 13, I curse myself for not looking and noticing that I was almost out of gas. And now I'm in the middle of the wilderness where there is no gas stations, no nothing.
By minute 12, I pray to god, those drops of gas that I have left in the gas tank can deliver me safely to Netherfield.
By minute 11, I start to wonder who will take care of my children when I'm gone since I'm surely going to die out here. A bear is going to kill me or worst, I might get kidnapped. Are there bears in New York?
By minute 10, I am left stranded beside the road while rain and thunder roll around outside the car. I am left with no transportation, no phone, and no help.
The Universe hates me.
No, this is not hatred this is freaking revenge.
The universe probably remembers I called the sun a slut and now it's out to make me pay.
I have two options right now. Stay here in the car the whole night until someone stops by to offer help, which I don't know if I would accept because they could be a Dr. Hannibal for all I know …or I can walk the few miles that are left to Netherfield… in the rain… and thunder… in flip flops... and yoga pants.
I can't do this. No, don't think like that. You can do this. You are a modern 21th century modern woman from New York with southern blood running through your veins. You can get out of this situation.
Before I can chicken out I grab my dead cell phone and car keys and put it all in my purse. I step out of the car quickly locking it and stepping into the wet grass, the coldness of the rain seeping through my clothes. Flip flops were a bad choice, now I'm going to have to walk all the way to Netherfield stepping in cold water and hoping that what my feet are touching is just rainwater and not something else, like frog pee.
You have to do this, Lizzy, for your children. They must be worried about you. Lightning flashes and then thunder roars through the skies. I'm going to die here, struck by lightning.
That's how I die.
And all along I thought I was going to die from cancer or a heart attack, but nope I die in a deserted road, wearing a Marvel shirt and yoga pants. There is no doubt about my awaited doom since this definitely looks like the first ten minutes of Supernatural. And everyone knows that whoever they show in the first ten minutes of the show is dinner for whatever monster of the week Dean and Sam are going to kill.
I fight the urge to go hide again in the car. If Debbie can go through med school for her child I can walk through the rain at night for my children. It's only some miles…
I used to be in the track team when I was in high school. If running marathons were a breeze this should be a piece of cake.
It'll be super easy.
It wasn't easy…
Apparently, I'm really out of shape. Like the 'I-Can't-Even-Do-A-Toe-Touch' out of shape. What was I thinking? I sit in an office the whole day for Pete's sake!
It took me an hour to get to the hotel.
By the time I got there, it was eleven; I was drenched in water and in a horrible mood. My clothes were soaked and my messy bun was definitely messy. The only thing I wanted to do was talk to my children.
…And leave, I also want to leave.
The hotel is beautiful, there's no doubt about it. Charles is definitely loaded, like Richie Rich loaded. I try not to gawk that much because I am no Francine Bennet, but I do stare in appreciation at the grand pillars standing in formation in the lobby. The receptionist is taken abruptly by my appearance but quickly gets her composure back and kindly shows me how to get to the penthouse where Jane is staying at.
And wow... if I admired the lobby, I am left speechless at the penthouse.
And that's how the four people sitting in the room beside the elevator find me, with my mouth wide open as I examine a beautiful vase.
"Who are you? And how did you get here?!" A red headed woman asks. She has a glass of wine in her hand and a look of disdain in her face.
"Oh sorry, I'm Elizabeth, Jane's sister. I don't know if she told you I was coming?" I quickly tell them trying not to fidget under their fixed and focused stare.
After some seconds that feel like an eternity a petite red headed woman responds with a very thick English accent. "Oh Elizabeth, yes, she told us."
"How is she?" I ask directing my question to the petite woman, who looks like she has the better attitude of the four.
"Sick, I think she contracted a stomach virus from the restaurant we ate at this morning." She answers politely. For someone who is English she seems very nice. "Do you want a towel? It seems as if you walked miles in the rain." She says it as a joke as she goes to a closet that's beside me to retrieve a towel.
"That would be nice, thank you. And actually I did walk." I answer truthfully.
This makes her stop and stare at me. As if she cannot assimilate what I just said. But her manners quickly come back and a smile is plastered in her face as she hands me the towel. She must think I'm crazy.
"My god Eliza, you walked here, while it was raining? And just so you could see your sister?" The other taller skinnier red head woman asks like if she cannot understand the idea of doing such a thing.
"Yes, I did."
Okay, it wasn't just to see my sister. I did it more to not spend the night in a car, and to call my children. Which reminds me, I need to charge my phone. And also, how soon after I step into someone's house can I ask for the Wi-Fi password? When does society think it's the right moment? These are the questions I wished Google answered.
The tall red head woman just stares at me. I think she's Charles sister, Caroline if I remember correctly. She's probably Darcy's girlfriend. She looks like his type.
I hate her automatically.
And no, it's not because she's Darcy's girlfriend… okay, that's probably one of the reasons.
Plus, she doesn't like me if her sour expression is anything to go by.
I look over at the other two men. One of them is blond and tall, around his forties. He looks like he was handsome in his youth but years of drinking have altered his image, his whole persona just screams drunk. And no I'm not being prejudice. I'm actually quite good at reading people, one of the talents I need for my job.
After finishing my analysis of 'blond and tall' I look at the other man towering over everyone else and my breath catches in my throat.
William Darcy is here.
He just stares at me.
I stare at him.
And the weirdest thing is that while I stare at him the only thing going through my mind in repeat is: Damn, Richard was right, I should have at least worn jeans.
Here I am looking like a slob and probably with jelly in my lips from the donuts I ate in the way here. And there he is looking like he got up early went to the gym and totally did something productive. Ugh, he's wearing a fitted dress shirt and dress pants. I bet he ironed his clothes. Yeah, he ironed them. Of course he did, because that fits with his whole obsessive, control freak persona.
He definitely exercises. You cannot have biceps like those without exercise. I bet he could have walked the miles from my car to here in half my time.
Under dressed is an understatement for the way I feel standing beside these four people who look like they just walked out of a magazine cover. And not the cheap magazine covers, no, I'm talking Vogue. You know you've hit rock bottom when even a drunk looks better then you.
Darcy just keeps staring, his face is unreadable, well maybe unreadable to other people but I know that's his 'I'm-Judging-You-Right-Now' face.
He looks good. Of course he would look good. It's William Darcy. The universe must really hate me. Why couldn't he be bald and fat? Why did he have to look like this after so many years?
He is using his glasses. Ugh, having bad vision has never looked this hot. He looks good for his age; of course he has a few wrinkles, but who wouldn't at least that age.
"Can I see her?" I ask the shorter woman as I break my gaze from Darcy.
"Oh, yes, follow me." She motions for me to follow her. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't feel everyone's judgmental eyes on me as I left. But in the bright side thank goodness someone is showing me the way to Jane's room because this penthouse is astronomical big. Just the entry has to be bigger than my apartment.
Well, to be fair, everything is bigger than my apartment.
Finally after making our way through the maze of hallways we stop in front of a blue door. "This is her room. If you need anything else just come and find me. My name is Louisa, by the way." She says kindly as she walks away leaving me by myself.
Stepping inside I find Jane sitting up in her bed, and with her suitcase beside her bed and already packed. She's clutching her stomach and I know she must be fighting a wave of nausea. Charles is sitting beside her as he rubs her back.
"Jane, I'm here." I say, alerting her of my presence. She looks up and smiles her sweet-Jane smile.
"Lizzy, you're here!" She stands up as she grabs her suitcase probably thinking we're leaving. She stops when she notices the state I'm in. "What happened to you?" Her suitcase forgotten and worry etched in her tone.
"Long story short I survived the first ten minutes of Supernatural. A feat, my dear sister, rarely done."
She tilts her head in confusion. I should resign myself to knowing Jane will never understand my geeky references. I sigh as I give her the boring version of the story. "I ran out of gas, had to walk all the way here." I shrug as if walking I don't know how many miles for an hour in the wilderness is something I do every day.
She looks like she wants to ask how I am but then my words catch up to her. "So, this means we're stuck here?" I see Charles eyes light up.
"Well, I was wondering if Charles would do me the favor of taking me to a gas station so I could fill up my tank and then come get you." I had thought this through as I walked here. It sounds like a really good idea. I know I'm letting Charles' hopes down with this, I know he wants to keep my sister here longer. But I need to return home to my children.
"Yes, sure, if that's what you want." Charles says sadly as he stands up. He quickly gives Jane a peck in the lips as before he leaves.
Gosh, he is so far gone. He is hypnotized by Jane like every other guy. My sister is beautiful and nice. She's perfect for someone like Charles.
"So, how was your day?" She asks me as she stands up. She's blushing, she's not a big fan of PDA.
I fight the urge to tease her about the small kiss. Instead, I tell her about my day. "Horrible, David embarrassed me and I swear I'm having a heart attack. I'm having chest pain." I start massaging my chest.
Jane laughs already used to my dramatic side. "Are you sure it's not just heartburn?"
I shake my head,"What about you? How was your day? I see you and Charles have been getting cozy together." I grin and wiggle my eyebrows as she starts blushing.
Jane, even though she's a great beauty, has never had great luck with men. She thought her high school sweetheart was going to be it for her. But instead he dumped her right after taking her virginity on prom night. After him, she started dating a lawyer while she was in college, they lasted about two years until she found out he was two-timing her. After him, it was a Doctor. He was nice. They lasted five years together until work made them drift apart.
So yeah, Jane has had worse luck then I have. Just in her case she was smart and didn't get pregnant.
Jane sits down beside me, reminding me of the time we use to be teenagers and spend our nights talking about boys. "Oh, Lizzy!" She gushes. "Charles is perfect! He's good, just what a man ought to be!"
"Just good?"
"Well, he's also handsome!"
"Hmm…" I say acting like I'm deep in thought. "I can see where you're coming from. I can see how a good, handsome man would be the perfect man; he would be good and… handsome." I say sarcastically.
Jane pushes me playfully.
"It's just… every time I'm around him, I feel like something crawls inside me. I don't know what it is… desire perhaps? Or maybe love?" She starts blushing again at her admission of being in love.
"It's probably just gas."
"Lizzy! Be serious!"
"I am being serious!" I say as seriously as can before I erupt in laughter.
"No, I can't go! It's pouring outside. Plus, hail is falling." Is the first thing I hear when Jane and I make our way downstairs.
"She wants to leave. So help them leave, Charles." I hear Darcy's baritone, English voice say. Apparently he can't wait to get the Bennets away from here.
That jerk. I wish I could stay just to spite him.
"If you let those girls stay here any longer the little one might bring inside all of the worlds mud. Did you see her clothes? Six inches deep in mud! She was a mess Charles!" Caroline says with a tone of superiority as she chuckles.
I hate her. I truly and undeniably hate her.
And did she call me 'the little one'? Just because I'm probably the youngest here does not give her the right to make fun of me.
I step towards them alerting them of our presence. "Well as Mindy would say 'if I'm going to be a mess-might as well be a hot mess, right?'" This makes Charles start howling in laughter. I try to make a joke out of it, trying to show them that I'm not hurt by what Caroline said.
"Well you are hot, Lizzy, and you are a mess. So mission accomplished ." Charles says playing along. It seems he's the only one who understood my reference.
"Is everything all right though?" Jane asks them, interrupting whatever Darcy was going to say.
"It's pouring outside." Charles answers her. "It's too dangerous to leave. But I promise you that I will take you to the gas station tomorrow."
What? Leave tomorrow? I can't leave tomorrow! I have to leave right now! My children must be worried about me.
"No, you don't understand, I have to leave now!" I try to sound as desperate as I can. He has to see the emergency of the situation.
"I'm sorry Lizzie." At least he has the decency to sound apologetic.
I look around the room, everyone is wearing a frown in their face. It seems Charles is the only one who wants us to say.
"Let her leave, she clearly doesent want to be here." Darcy tells Charles as he goes and sits in the couch. Of course he wants me gone. He can't stand me.
Oh, I hate you too, Darcy! The feeling is mutual.
"Lizzy, we have to stay the night." Jane says as she begs me with her eyes to reconsider. "It's too dangerous to go outside like Charles said. Just call home, he can take care of the children for a night. He is their father after all and he needs to start taking more responsibility."
It takes me a moment to realize that Jane is talking about Richard. Yeah, the children aren't Richards's responsibility they are my responsibility. And as their mother I should be taking care of them right now. But I can't really explain that to Jane.
"You have a husband?" Caroline asks, "I thought you were single."
I see Darcy's back stiffen at this. Maybe he can't imagine a man who would marry me. I ignore her, I'm not in a mood to be lectured by Caroline.
I sigh as I realize what I have to do. "Can I use your phone, please? My phone is dead." I explain to Charles, sticking out my hand.
He hands me his phone and I quickly walk towards the hallway to call Richard. He answers in the first ring.
"Richard, how are they?" I ask quickly.
"And she's alive!" He says dramatically.
I roll my eyes. "Can I talk to one of them?"
"What, you don't want to talk to me? You wound me, woman!"
"You'll live."
He fakes an exasperated sigh. "Sure, Mary's here, by the way." I hear shuffling through the phone, then I hear crying and my heart stops. Something is wrong.
"Mom, why haven't you called?" James asks mad. "It's been 3 hours since you've been gone!" I hear a voice say 'almost 4 hours' probably David, "almost 4 hours! 4 hours! Where are you!? We were worried about you!"
"Long story. Who's crying?" I say ignoring his question, right now my priority is to know who's crying and why. I think of every horrible scenario that might be causing those tears.
"Olive, she misses you."
"Pass me to her." Is all I tell him, my brain going into mom mode. I hear shuffling and then Olive's timid voice.
"Mommy," she sobs. My eyes start burning. "When are you coming home?" She's crying really hard.
"Oh, baby, I won't make it home tonight but I promise I will be there tomorrow. It's just, I'm out of gas and it's raining over here…"
"I can't go to sleep without you." She sobs.
My heart feels like it's going to shatter. "Baby, you will have to this night. Or maybe you can ask Mary if you can sleep with her tonight."
After some more minutes of discussing with her why I can't call the police, I ask her to pass me to Richard. I explained to him my predicament and he just laughed his ass off. He said, Karma was out to get me. What better way for me to talk to my sperm donor than the universe making us stay at the same house for a night? After some minutes of him teasing me, I made him pass me to Mary who is the responsible of the two of them, so she could make sure my children were okay. She only listened to me and didn't even laugh at the situation I was in. She promised to watch over the kids… and Richard.
After finishing talking with my children, I walked back to where everyone was gathered sitting in couches.
"Did he agree to take care of them?" Jane asks.
I notice all eyes are on me this time.
My eyes are burning with unshed tears as I think of Olive crying for me. I've never spent a night without them. We've always been together since I discovered I was pregnant. Even if I arrived home late at night because of work, I've never spent a night without them. It's my first night without them. I want to cry.
Jane must notice this because she hugs me. "They'll be fine." Jane says rubbing my back as her voice soothes me. "You couldn't leave them in better hands. They are with their father after all. He loves them as much as you do."
Richard is not their father, I want to yell at her. Both of my babies' parents are in this room, two hours away from them. If there's an emergency I won't be able to reach them in time.
She looks up at the people who are looking at us. "It's her first night without them." She simply says as if this would explain my misery.
It's preschool all over again.
"Come on." Jane says making me stand up in my feet. "Let's go to sleep." She says as she drags me to her room. I don't know what happens but next thing I know, I'm lying in bed nodding off to sleep wearing Jane's pajamas as Jane sleeps beside me.
Go to sleep.
Go to sleep.
Go. To. Sleep.
This is useless! Exasperated I turn to where Jane is at sleeping peacefully beside me. Her platinum blond hair gracefully falling in a cascade beside her pillow, giving her an ethereal look. And of course she's wearing a white nightgown, giving her an angel appearance even more.
Two a.m. the clock reads. No one should be awake in this ungodly hour.
Two a.m., the time my body programmed so I can wake up to complete my nightly ritual of checking if the kids are all right. Jane says I'm paranoid. I'm not.
I'm not going to call Richard. I'm not going to call Richard.
I see my phone being charged in the nightstand. Jane must have put it there so it could charge.
I'm not going to call Richard.
The phone is taunting me.
It's calling my name, mocking me, pulling me towards it. And showing me every possible horrible scenario that could be happening back home.
I'm not calling Richard.
I'm. Not. Calling. Richard.
Okay, I'm calling Richard.
I quickly stand up grabbing the cell phone. Silently and carefully I step out of the room. I make my way through the labyrinth that is Charles' penthouse. Does he have a penthouse in every hotel he owns? I don't think so, he can't be that rich.
But then again he is in Forbes' youngest billionaires list.
I find myself in the kitchen as I dial Richard's phone.
"Hello?" He grumbles sleepily.
"Richard." I whisper, "do me a favor and go check on the boys."
"Lizzy?"
"No, it's Santa." I answer sarcastically.
A deep, raspy, laugh is heard through the phone. "Well, in that case, why didn't you bring me the bicycle I wanted when I was five, you evil bitch?" His voice is hoarse and scratchy from just recently awakening, but his tone is still full of humor. I want to laugh at his accent, who knew his Boston accent got thicker at two in the morning?
"Richard!"
"Fine, fine I'm getting up." I hear his steps as he opens and closes a door. And then opens what I think is the boys' room.
"They're fine, mama bear."
"Can you check that James isn't being suffocated by his blanket? He has a tendency to move around while he sleeps. Once he had the blanket covering his face so I ha-"
"He's fine, can I go to sleep now?" He says interrupting my babble.
"No, now check David. Make sure he doesn't have anything lying around beside his bed. He once broke his laptop by stepping on it when he went to the bathroom."
I hear him sigh. "No, there's nothing around him. Can I go to sleep now? Please? And stop worrying and go to sleep."
"No, you're still not done. Go check on my baby girl. Make sure she's all right."
He sighs again frustrated. "She's fine. She's sleeping with Mary."
"Go!" I order him.
I wait as I hear him open Olive's bedroom door. "She's fine, both of them are asleep." He whispers as I hear him shut the door again. I let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you, now can you go check if the door is locked correctly? Sometimes Mary forgets to lock them wh-"
He chuckles as he interrupts me. "Good night, Lizzy." And then he hangs up.
"Jerk." I murmur underneath my breath as I look down at my phone to see that indeed he did hang up on me. Richard must have found my worry entertaining; he must be used to it by now though. He's seen how I'm always looking over them. I can only stop worrying when I see with my own eyes that they're fine. He'll understand once he has children of his own.
Someone clears their throat behind me. Oh great, someone is a witness to my little 2 a.m. routine.
Knowing my luck it must be Darcy.
Turning around I come face with my intruder.
And would you look at that, it's Darcy. I did not see that coming, *cough* sarcasm *cough*
"How long have you been there?" I ask him.
"Since you mentioned your kid moves around a lot while he sleeps." Darcy responds as he opens the refrigerator and takes the milk out.
So he didn't hear me say Richard's name.
But he did hear all the rest of the conversation. Or better yet, what I was saying since I doubt he could hear what was being said at the other end of the line.
I take a moment to study him as he loses his patience opening almost all the cabinets trying to find a cup. He curses underneath his breath as he opens another cabinet door and still does not find what he's looking for.
He hasn't gone to bed, that much is obvious. He's still wearing the blue button down shirt that he was wearing some hours ago. The only difference is that he's lost the tie and the first two buttons of his dress shirt have become undone. His once styled hair is ruffled up. The only thing that has not changed is that he is still wearing his glasses.
I take pity on him when he opens another cabinet and still doesn't find a cup. I quickly make my way to the dishwasher and open it.
"Always check the dishwasher." I tell him as I grab a cup and hand it to him. He eyes it skeptically before taking it.
I wonder what he was doing up this late at night. I know why I'm up, but why is he?
The silence is awkward. "Humans are the only mammals that continue drinking milk even after they've reached adulthood."
Well, that wasn't awkward at all, Lizzy.
Darcy looks up at me from where he's sitting in a stool in the kitchen island, his blue eyes squinting as if he can't believe I just said something stupid like that. He probably wants me to leave, maybe he wants to drink his milk in peace. Well Darcy, I didn't want to stay anyways.
I take a step to leave but Darcy stops me. "Wait!" he says almost in a shout. I turn around to see what he wants, maybe he needs me to fetch him another cup. Maybe the one he has doesn't meet his standards. You never know what will happen with pricks like Darcy.
Darcy looks nervous all of a sudden, I raise my eyebrow. He opens his mouth and then closes it. If he was just another normal guy I would assume he stopped me because he just wants my company. But this isn't just another normal guy.
"You shouldn't overprotect them that much. You will make them useless human beings if you continue like that."
It takes me a moment to process who he's referring to. And when my brain processes what he just said, all I can think about is that I should have ignored him and walked away. Because now, now I'm mad, no, not just mad, I'm seething mad. Mad that I'm not with my children. Mad that it's me who has to worry about them while William can sleep peacefully. But most of all, I'm mad that he thinks he can give me parental advice. And what does he mean by I overprotect them? Useless human beings?
"Excuse me?" I say offended. Who is he to tell me how to treat my children?
"If you continue to treat them like they're babies they're going to grow up to be leeches who feed off of others." He says without a care in the world as he stares at me from where he's sitting.
Leeches? How dare he call them that!
I hope that milk is expired and gives him diarrhea.
The urge to punch him is colossal, but I try to resist it. "They're little; they can't do everything by themselves! They're just babies! My babies!" I stress the word 'my' even though I know he doesn't understand why I stressed that word out.
"I'm pretty sure, your kid can put his laptop away by himself without you waking up at 2 in the morning to do it for him."
"Well, when you have your own kids, you can tell me how to raise mine." I tell him as I turn my back to him. But then the anger starts to rise again, "And by the way," I turn to face him again, not dropping the subject. "My children are not useless! They clean their own rooms and even wash their own clothes!" I feel proud to say the last part even though yesterday was the first time David washed his clothes… and okay, I finished washing his clothes, but that's not the point.
He looks up at me confused. "I thought you said your children were babies. Aren't your youngest 3 and 5? How in the world can they wash clothes?"
Damn.
"Exactly!" Is all I say. "That's how independent they are!"
He shakes his head. "You love them too much for their own good."
"You cannot love your child too much."
"Yeah, you can. I've seen many parents love a child so much they grew up to be parasites feeding off of everyone else, because they grew up with the notion that they deserved everything and didn't need to work for it." He looks down at his cup of milk as he whispers the last words. His face contorts into a pained expression as if just by uttering the last few words wound him. But I don't care enough about him to ask him what's wrong.
"Well, I love my children and I would do anything for them."
"Anything?" He asks, as if the notion of a parent doing anything for their child was foreign for him.
"Anything, even be a Debbie and go to med school. I would even lose everything for them… even my pride." And with that said, I walk out of the kitchen and enter the bedroom I share with Jane and replay in my mind every word Darcy and I exchanged. Because even though I can't stand him, and I find his personality atrocious, he is still the father of my children.
The problem with being a mother is that you have an internal clock that wakes you up even when you don't have to wake up. In my case that's 6 a.m., the time I usually wake up to prepare the kids for school and make them breakfast, if I can.
It takes me about ten minutes before I can't stand to be in bed any longer. I can't go back to sleep so I stand up and go to the kitchen. At least I should be productive. I open the cabinets, figuring out what I can do for breakfast. The least I can do is thank Charles with a thank you breakfast. He did let me stay in his house after all.
By the time everyone is awake I have made biscuits, pancakes, bacon, eggs, and oatmeal. Unconsciously I made the oatmeal since that's what I usually make for James who hates bacon…and eggs…and biscuits…and pancakes which he says he does not understand. How can you have something sweet that early in the morning? Oh James.
Darcy is the first to arrive. He looks like he has been up the whole night. He has bags under his eyes, his dark hair is ruffled up. He's changed shirts though, now he's wearing a wrinkled red t-shirt that must be Charles since it looks like it's a size too small for him. He looks like he should be in a rehab center by the way his eyes are red. I wonder how many days he has gone without sleep.
"Good morning." I say politely. The least I can do is be nice to the father of my children. And considering I yelled at him last night I should at least be polite today.
"Good morning." He responds. He looks uncomfortable talking to me, he must be thinking of a way to politely end the conversation. Who am I kidding? Darcy has never been polite, I doubt that word even exists in his vocabulary.
He looks at what I just prepared. "You know how to cook?"
Okay, so he doesn't want to stop talking to me. I was wrong about that, but I'm pretty sure he wants to talk to me just to see what other thing he can criticize and judge me for.
I really don't want to talk to him.
"I don't consider that cooking." I say pointing to the food. "I just opened Pillsbury biscuits and put them in an oven, fried the bacon, and made eggs. That's not cooking."
He should taste what I can do if I have enough time to cook a good dinner. Now that is cooking.
"I've never met a woman who could cook." Is all he responds. We stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to each other. I understand why it's awkward for me to be around him. But why is he being awkward? He can't possibly remember? No, he would have told me. Luckily for us Charles, Louisa, and Caroline walk in saving us from an even more awkward moment.
"You cook?" Charles says as he enters the kitchen.
I roll my eyes. "No, the food magically appeared." I say jokingly. He just gives me a dimpled smile. I'm starting too really like Charles. He gets my sarcasm, he's like my sarcastic soul mate.
He grins when he catches sight of all the food, I don't tell them that the only reason why I learned how to cook was to feed the children. Pre-children I didn't even know how to make Ramen noodle soup. The first years I bought so many recipe books that I would have put Martha Stewart to shame. If it was up to me I would just buy them fast food, but apparently to society it's frowned upon if the mother lets their child's food pyramid only consist of chicken nuggets and tater tots.
"Don't tell me, Eliza." Caroline says, "You're a cook?"
"My name is Elizabeth." I correct her. "And yeah, among other things." I answer truthfully.
This piques her interest. "What other things?"
"Well, I also clean." And cook, I'm also a nurse, teacher, law enforcer, judge….the list can go on and on.
"Oh, you're a maid." She says looking at me from head to toe.
"You can say that, Carol." I answer back. Not wanting to elaborate that being a cook and maid is not my actual job. Let her think I'm a maid.
"Well, then," Charles says clapping his hands together, trying to cut the tension. "I know everyone will love the breakfast you prepared for us." He says happily.
I smile at him. If Jane doesn't keep him I think I will. Just as friends though, he could be 'the nice one' of my friends.
"Except Darcy." Caroline says breaking me away from my thoughts of kidnapping Charles, "he hates eggs."
"They make me nauseous." Darcy explains.
"And biscuits." Louisa adds.
"I don't like the taste." Darcy retorts.
"Nor bacon." Charles says laughing.
"They taste too much like pork, I hate pork."
"He doesn't like pancakes either." The husband of Louisa whose name is Robert adds.
"Those are not pancakes." He says looking at the pancakes in the table.
I frown at that. "Well, you don't have to eat them Darcy if you don't want to, no one is forcing you." I vehemently respond. How dare he offend my pancakes! I'll have him know that his son -David- can't run fast enough towards the kitchen when he smells the aroma of pancakes in the apartment.
"Oh, no, he didn't mean it like that." Charles quickly says when he sees the glares I'm throwing at Darcy's direction. "Where were from, England, pancakes look different from these," he says pointing to the pancakes and clearing up the misunderstanding. "To us pancakes are thinner and look more like what you know as crepes. We eat them with lemon wedges."
Oh.
"Don't feel too offended Elizabeth, Darcy is just a picky eater." Louisa adds.
"I just don't get the point of pancakes. Why do people want to eat something sweet for breakfast?" Darcy says aggravated by the teasing everyone is bestowing him.
I choke on the water I'm drinking when he explains why he doesn't like pancakes. They all look at me.
"Do you like oatmeal?" I ask him remembering the oatmeal I unconsciously made. "I made oatmeal." I tell him wiping the water dripping from my lips.
"Actually, I do."
Like father, like son.
While we're eating, Caroline can not stop talking about her husband.
So, she and Darcy aren't a couple. Apparently Caroline says that she and Darcy were raised like siblings. Since she was the sister of Darcy's best friend that made them grow up together and be raised together. My hate towards her lessened a little…but just a smidge.
She's talked non-stop about her husband. He's a senator apparently, she also has an eleve-year-old daughter named Sophia. According to her, her daughter is the most beautiful and talented 11 year old girl that has had the privilege to walk this earth. I can make a compelling argument about that, but I opt to keep my mouth shut. Olive is much more smarter than Sophia, no question about it. But I can't really brag about that without letting everyone know Olive is actually 11 not 3.
Plus, I bet Olive's eyes are much prettier than Sophia's.
She has her daddy's eyes after all…
"Do your children go to a private school?" Caroline asks, breaking me away from my thoughts.
"No, public."
She snickers at that. "Well, my Sophia goes to a private school. Her school is known as the second best school of New York." She says proudly.
"Why isn't she in the school that is rated first?" I ask her, already knowing the answer to my question.
Because Sophia isn't smart enough.
My children are in the best school of New York and that fills me up with pride.
I hear Charles choke in his food at this trying to fight back a laugh.
Caroline looks like a deer in front of headlights. No way out.
"Well, Eliza, we're planning on moving her there next year. It's hard getting children to be accepted to be at that school. You'll understand when your children are of age to go there." She says simply as she takes a sip from her tea.
Yeah, right.
Good luck with getting her accepted. No amount of money will be able to get her the golden ticket.
"Everyone knows my dear cousin Sophia isn't in my school because she's stupid." A voice says from behind me. I turn around and find two blonde boys around my children's age standing there.
"Hi." The one who spoke up says to me. "I'm Robert Hurst and this is my cousin." He says pointing to the other kid beside him who is much shyer.
"This is my son Robert." Louisa says as she points to the blonde boy who is staring at me like if he knew all my secrets. "And this is my nephew Matthew."
"Or as we call him Matt." Robert says slapping his cousins back.
"You're in the number one school of New York?" I ask them nervously. Not daring to say the name of the school out loud. If I say it out loud the truth would look more real.
"Both of us are." He says with a wicked smile.
He must know the triplets. Do they know I'm their mom? They must know by the way Robert is smiling at me and Matt is looking down at the floor not wanting to meet my gaze.
"But we're not the smartest of the school. We used to be. But not anymore." He looks straight at me as he says the next words. "Now, the smartest children there are the triplets." His voice is full of envy.
Okay, so they do know.
"I was wondering," Robert says to me, "if you could help me with something in the kitchen," he says politely.
All the adults look at him as if he said the strangest thing. Why would he be asking me for help? He barely knows me. But I know he knows.
I stand up, trying not to seem nervous as I walk to the kitchen. Both of them guide me far away from the prying ears of the adults who are currently in the dining room.
"Okay, what are you hiding?" Robert automatically asks. Straight to the point. If he was not a threat to me, I would like this kid.
But this kid underestimates me. I live with David. This kid has a devious mind but no one is as devious as my middle son. I'm use to blackmail.
I know these kids want something, but I won't allow them to blackmail me. I don't tolerate it with my children, so I damn as well won't tolerate it from random annoying children.
Now I remember why I didn't' like kids.
"What makes you think I have something to hide?" I ask him nonchalantly.
"Well, how can I explain this?" He says taking a step towards me. He talks like an adult. "I know that you're hiding the fact that you're children are triplets. We also know they are not little. They are our age after all," he points to him and his cousin who is just standing silently next to him. "Now, if you don't want us to tell my family out there your little secret, you will invite us to spend a weekend at your home and also will convince your children to make both of us their project partners."
Now I understand Olive when she mentioned she didn't like Robert because he was a bully. He is a bully. I don't like him.
"Listen here kid," I tell him standing up as tall as I can in front of him trying to intimidate him. But he doesn't even flinch. I kind of admire this kid. "You will not tell them anything. Or better yet you can tell them whatever you want. Who do you think they will believe you or me?" I tell them giving him the best mom voice I can muster. "And anyways, I heard you hate my children. Why would you want to spend the weekend with them?"
"Duh, they're the smartest kids in a school where being smart is the ultimate thing. I need to get a good grade in that project and I know they will get the best grade in class. And I don't know if you know this, but if we asked them," he said pointing to his cousin and himself, "they won't let us be their project partners. So we need your help to make them work with us. But anyways, I'll figure out what you're hiding, and then you will do what we want. Come on, Matt, I'm hungry." He tells his cousin, leaving me standing there not knowing what to do. I don't think they will figure out my secret. They're not smart enough….
…then again Olive did say they were geniuses…
I go back to my seat as I eat my food in peace even though I know everyone is staring at me. Wanting to know what those two criminals wanted with me. Even Jane who has come down while I was in the kitchen is staring at me.
Then I hear someone snap their fingers. "I know you looked like someone." The future juvenile delinquent named Robert tells Darcy.
Oh no, this can't be good.
"Are you by any chance related to someone named Richard?" He asks him.
Oh god, no…
Darcy blinks. "Yes, I am. How do you know my cousin?" He asks confused.
How do they know Richard? This is not happening. I'm dead. That's it, I'm getting killed. I better start figuring out whose going to take care of my children.
"Oh, he came by to our school in career day. He talked about being an FBI agent," Matt says starring at his cousin, telling him with his eyes to shut up. I like that kid.
I know Richard did not go to their school. He barely has time for anything. He's always working.
These two kids must think Richard is the father of the triplets. They must have heard Olive call him Dad.
Robert grins at me and waves his hand as if telling me if I want to add something to the conversation.
That little bastard. He's figured out that Darcy is related to the triplets. Not in the way they think he is, but still they know he doesn't know that the triplets are his family members.
"Louisa," I say, she looks shocked that I'm speaking to her ,"do you think next weekend I could have Robert and Matt over at my house? My oldest child is having a little trouble in school and… well, Robert and Matt offered to tutor him."
I'm so sorry, James, for saying this. He would throw a fit knowing that I lied and told someone he was doing badly in school.
"Sure, I'll ask their nanny if they have something to do that weekend, but if not they're all yours," she says simply.
I stare shockingly at her. I didn't know she would consent. If I was her and some stranger asked me if they could have my children over for a weekend, I would laugh in their faces.
I look over at Robert who is smiling like a little devil at me. He got what he wanted.
The lights go out. The thunderstorm that started last night still continues today. We're in the library right now. With nothing to do, Charles and his 2 sisters and brother-in-law are playing cards. Darcy is using the last of his laptop battery life to write an email to his sister to let her know that he's all right. Jane is sleeping her nausea away and well …I'm reading, or better yet re-reading a book.
I want to leave. Don't get me wrong, Charles is awesome, his family… not so much. Caroline thinks I'm the dirt underneath her shoes. Louisa is… polite and her husband is…well… he's one of those guys who have had everything since his childhood. He's probably an heir to his father's company so I don't think he works. Probably has a monthly check his father gives him from the company.
Oh yeah… and they're all British.
Yippee…
And don't even get me started on Darcy. He has ignored me completely since the little argument we had last night in the kitchen. Apparently I'm not a good mother. Well, buddy, out of us two who is the one taking care of our children? Yeah, me. So, who's the bad parent? Ten points if you get this right.
"Darcy, can you fix my mobile? It doesn't want to work." Caroline whines. God, I hate her voice. Even though I have to admit people whining in an English accent sounds very sophisticated.
Darcy looks annoyed and irritated at Caroline. Probably mad she took him away from tapping away in his computer. But still he takes Caroline's phone away from her hand and quickly opens it up after some minutes he gives her, her phone back. Good as new.
How did he do that?
He probably works in an IT department.
That sounds about right. Olive does like computers… and robots…
"Oh, when the light comes on, can you check the refrigerator? The ice doesn't work." Charles tells him without looking up from his cards.
He fixes refrigerators to? I should make him take a look at my refrigerator that is having the same problem, but if he fixes computers and refrigerators that means…
Ok, not an IT department worker.
"Are you a mechanic?" I ask him from where I sit.
This startles him, he looks confused by my question. Caroline starts laughing. I don't know why my question is funny. He knows about cell phones and refrigerator's I'm guessing maintenance man.
"You can say that." Darcy finally responds while Caroline still laughs.
"Oh, Eliza, you truly don't know who William is? You surely can't be that naive!"
Should I know where William works at? Maybe he works with Charles.
"Oh, I know William very well, Carol." Very, very well actually, maybe even better then you.
She looks like she wants to say something but Darcy beats her. "I have a Ph.D. in computer science and mechanical engineering…among others."
Ph.D…. among others… oh my goodness Darcy is smart. I don't know why this news shocks me. Of course he would be smart. His offspring are smart. I'm a smart woman but the kids are scary smart, they must have inherited from him.
And now remembering, Richard did say that his cousin was smart. Something about how he could make the Terminator happen in real life…
Good thing, he's not a homeless thug. My mother would be so proud.
"How's your new computer design coming? I heard you working last night. I thought we agreed you wouldn't work this weekend and just relax."
Computer design?
"Working relaxes me." Is all Darcy responds typing away in his laptop.
Working relaxes him? Working stresses me!
"Eliza, are you sure you don't want to join us?" Caroline asks me pointing to the card game her siblings, brother-in-law and herself are playing.
Yeah, no. I hate cards. Plus, sitting beside her does not sound attractive.
"No, thank you." I respond politely.
But unfortunately she won't leave me alone. "Such an avid reader. Is reading your only enjoyment? Or do you have another hobby?" God, I only want to be left alone! Can't they understand that?
I think about not answering her question and ignoring her but I know that would just be rude. So I think of an answer. My hobbies? Having three kids left me with no hobbies. Thank you, William, for that, you and your extraordinary sperm got me pregnant. Hobbies… hobbies…I try to think of something.
"I like to run and walk. Especially if it's in the woods. I love the woods." I answer thinking of my time in high school and when I would visit my mother's family.
"Oh, that's nice – the outdoors." Satisfied with my answer she turns her attention towards William. "Didn't you once tell us William that those are 2 qualities you liked in a woman, an avid reader and someone who enjoyed the outdoors?"
William has a list of things he likes in a woman? Now this is interesting.
"Shut up, Caroline." He tells her harshly.
Oh, no, do keep talking, Caroline. I'm quite enjoying this.
Luckily for me she won't shut up.
"Also, she must be talented. I remember that. Someone who is funny and quirky, who won't be embarrassed to do embarrassing stuff. Who wouldn't care for what others think. Someone who knows how to have fun, she must be beautiful and smart. Must be accomplished in her career, she must know more than one language and she must know how to play the piano. And there must be something in the way she walks…"
"Caroline, shut up." William says a little bit louder now.
"But overall she must have an air to her…." Caroline finishes, ignoring William and his commands.
"An air of what?" I ask.
"Oh, I don't have the slightest idea of what he was talking about. I'm just repeating."
I turn to see Darcy who is glaring at Caroline. "Oh, no wonder you're still single Darcy. There is no woman like that out there."
He looks up at me from behind his glasses, his icy blue eyes staring at my brown ones.
"Are you so judgmental of your own sex that you believe that no woman like that could exist?" He asks, his eyes never moving away from mine.
"Well, when you find this fierce creature, please say hi from my part." I say trying not to laugh.
He lifts up his eyebrow noticing that I'm teasing him.
"Oh Darcy, please do say hi to Georgiana from my part." Caroline says as she puts down a card in the table.
Georgiana… that's his little sister's name, the girl who has a doll named Olivia. I wonder if Georgiana would get along with Olive… no, Lizzy, don't think of that.
Darcy just nods in response to Caroline. I don't even know if he even heard what Caroline said.
"And please, do put your contacts on. You look far too old with those glasses on." Caroline reprimands him like if she was his mother.
I actually like his glasses, he doesn't seem old like Caroline says.
"How old are you?"
"He's 2 years older than me." Charles responds for him.
As if that could help me figure out Darcy's age.
"I'm 38." Darcy responds.
38, he's 38. He looks good for a 38 year old man. I stare at him from behind my book. He hasn't shaved today. So he has stubble. I usually hate it when men don't shave. But he looks good. He looks so much like James…and Richard is right – Olive looks exactly like her daddy…well aside from being a guy.
Why couldn't the kids look like me? That way I would never get reminded of him.
"Eliza," Caroline says breaking me away from my starring, "my legs are falling asleep, would you keep me company as I walk around the room?"
I don't know why she would need company but I consent and walk beside her. "Care to join us, William?" She asks Darcy.
"No, I'm fine where I'm sitting; I have a much better view from here."
View? What does he mean view? Does he mean us? No, he can't be talking about us. Caroline is married and well… he hates me.
"Oh, naughty Darcy!" Caroline laughs at a private joke. "How shall we punish him, Eliza?" Caroline says as she looks at me as we were great friends trading a secret.
"We can tease him." I respond. I would love to tease Darcy. Make him suffer as he has made me suffer these past years.
She gasps. "Tease Darcy? Never! He has no faults to tease, so we can't do that. Plus, he would get mad."
No faults, huh?
"Do you honestly have no faults, Darcy?" I ask him going to stand where he's sitting down in a couch, typing away in his laptop. He looks up at me with those mesmerizing eyes of his that tempt me to act just like I did 12 years ago.
"Everyone has faults, Bennet." He never takes his gaze from his laptop.
I stay by his side pressuring him to elaborate.
He sighs as he takes off his glasses and pinches his nose. "Something you should know about me, Miss Bennet, is that there are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense." He looks down at his hands as he starts to twirl a piece of napkin he had in his hands. Olive does that.
What horrible way to live. I get what he's saying – that he can't trust people to be who they appear to be, but to love so few people? I just don't know how I could live like that. Thinking ill of everyone I meet. Not giving anyone the benefit of the doubt? That just sounds horrible. I could not possibly live like that. Such a bitter man he is. He has no hope, nor trust towards people, and prefers to cut himself away from society.
"I have faults enough." He continues saying. "But I hope that no one knows about them. My temper is a big flaw of mine and one I dare not vouch for. Another thing is that I cannot forget the bad doings of others towards me, nor their offenses against myself. My temper could be called resentful. I suppose my flaw would be that once my good opinion of someone is lost, it's lost forever."
Like my boys. Well, at least he will understand why his sons hate him. Once he meets them…if he ever meets them.
"Ah, pride such a horrible fault." I say. Because what he's explaining is pride.
"Pride is not a fault, Bennet."
"So, would you consider pride a fault or a virtue?" I ask him trying to make him see the logic of his thinking.
"Pride is not a flaw." He retorts, he starts typing again.
"So, you're telling me that Pride is not a flaw? Well, if pride is not a fault, then it must be a virtue. And I don't know if you know this, but to society pride is definitely not a virtue." I say smugly.
"Pride is the only thing keeping a beggar from being a thief." He looks me directly in my eyes. "So, tell me, Bennet, after knowing this, do you think pride is a flaw or a virtue?"
Well damn he's using my question against me.
"It's a flaw when he dies from starvation." I answer pointedly.
"No, if he dies from starvation then he would be an idiot. There are many ways to feed ourselves, many charities one could take. That's why he's a beggar, is he not? To find money the correct and honorable way without stealing." He replies as he reclines himself in the couch.
"Oh, Darcy," I say chuckling. "You are one funny guy."
"And even if you think pride is a flaw, just think of what pride is." He keeps on saying, not dropping the subject, wanting to at least beat me in this discussion. "It's one's self-respect, the feeling that we are worth something. Pride is initiative that gives a teenage girl the will to dump her cheating boyfriend. The reason why she feels she is worth something and not tolerate that behavior. That's what pride is. So Bennet, do you think the self-respect that girl has is a flaw or a virtue?"
"Well, as someone very wise said: pride comes before destruction."
He tilts his head. "Who said that? Ghandi?"
I resist the urge to laugh. "No, it's from the bible, so I imagine God said it. So, you know if God said it, it must be true."
"Well, I'm an atheist."
He stares at me as if he could see deep within me. I stare back. I want to argue with him. Beat him in this discussion. Change his view of pride. But I know that he is stubborn. And just thinking of continuing this fight all day tires me.
"Oh dear, I believe I cannot tease you about that. And it's a pity since I really wanted to laugh." Is all I say as I return to my seat and grab my book. After some minutes I look up to him and say, "Darcy, just remember no one has ever chocked to death swallowing his pride." I say smiling at him.
He doesn't even look up at me just continues to tap away.
Jerk.
"How bad is your vision?" Caroline asks randomly after some minutes of silence.
"Excuse me?" Darcy asks perplexed at her sudden outburst.
"Which one is your bad eye, the right one or left?" She asks him.
My nose is stuck at my book, so I don't even look up when I say, "Right." I answer automatically thinking of Olive's bad eye.
They have the same poor eyesight, since Olive didn't inherit that from me.
I bet bats have better vision then them.
"How did you know that?" Darcy says now looking at me. He looks confused as to why I would know his right eye would be the one with his poorest eyesight.
"Uh… well… you see…" I try to think of something, anything, "there is this study that says that a majority of the people with glasses have very poor eyesight in their right eye," I say quickly trying to save myself from questions.
Everyone looks like they don't believe me. I wouldn't even believe myself.
"Ah yes… I remember reading it. The right eye study, right?" Darcy asks me.
"Yes!" I answer too quickly, glad that at least a study that says that exist. Everyone is still looking at me. "I'm going to go to my room and pack." I tell them as I stand up and leave the library trying to avoid their curious gazes. That was the worst excuse I've ever used. Pack? Really? I didn't even bring anything!
I walk and walk to where I think Jane's bedroom is at. But of course I have the worst luck ever, so when I open the door that I think is my bedroom instead I find a bathroom.
I start cursing underneath my breath as I turn around and hit a hard body. My hands automatically hold on to him so I won't fall. Please, let it be Charles. Please, let it be Charles.
It's not Charles.
Instead of the dark blue eyes I'm hoping for I find Darcy's aqua blue eyes staring down at me.
He has abs… is all I can think about when I look into his eyes. I definitely touched abs. My hands move away from but I can still feel how he felt underneath my fingers.
Strong.
He keeps on starring. "Did you know that Texas is the only state that allows its residents to vote from space?" I ask him.
I hate my mouth.
I rock myself with my heels. "So, right eye theory, you read it, too, huh?" I ask him trying to make this situation less awkward. Trying to make conversation with him until I can find an exit route.
"No, I didn't." he answers.
He didn't?
"You didn't…Then you must have seen it on TV, huh?" Please, say you saw it in TV!
"No, I didn't." He keeps staring at me, probably looking at all the flaws in my face. "That theory doesn't exist. So, tell me Bennet, how the hell do you bloody know that my right eye has the poorest eyesight? No one knows that except my doctor." The way he looks down at me tells me he wants an answer. And he wants the answer now.
"Oh, is that Jane?' I say looking behind me, faking hearing Jane call me. "YES, JANE, I'M COMING!" I yell at her. I turn around to see Darcy still expecting an answer, "well, it was nice talking to you Darcy, but my sister needs me." I tell him as I walk backwards.
He smirks. "Bennet, your sister's room is over there." he says pointing to the opposite direction of where I'm going.
I'm the worst liar ever! And I said Jane couldn't act. Apparently bad acting skills run in the family.
Well, there goes my Oscar acceptance speech I wrote when I was little.
"This apartment is so big that I hear echoes." I say stupidly as I slowly start to go the other way he mentioned, and then I run.
I know I'm a coward. But, a smart coward none the less.
It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon when finally Charles was able to take us to the gas station.
When I arrived home I found the house a mess. I should have expected this. My eyes roam the living room, finding empty Capri sun pouches lying around. The kitchen was a horrible mess with pizza boxes open, and the dining room was the worst of all. Richard was standing over a table that used to have Olive and James solar panel computer holding a fire extinguisher. So, they almost burned down the house. How am I not shocked by this?
"What happened?" I screamed at them as I walk to the table. My beautiful table… ruined.
"There is a glitch in the computer and I don't know how to fix it," James responds sadly as he looks down at his hard work that is destroyed. How do I treat this? Should I punish them for pursuing knowledge?
"By the way," Richard says, "I took them to Chuck e Cheese because the commercials look fun and they say 'it's where a kid can be a kid.'"
Oh god, no. I know where this story is headed already.
"You're children are weird," he says looking directly at Olive and James. "They fixed a machine that wasn't working. On the bright side they gave us unlimited tokens for the day because they fixed it. David and I had a lot of fun."
"We're not weird!" Olive tells Richard with a glare.
"Of course you're not, sweetie," I go and walk to where she's standing at wearing a pretty blue dress that I do not remember buying. I hug her tightly, "you're unique and there is nothing wrong with that."
"They spent the whole time we were there fixing machines" he tells me pointedly. "Oh, by the way, I took them to the mall also."
I look up at him. "Why?" As far as I know they don't need any new stuff.
"Lizzy, you do know that you have boys, right?"
I don't get to ask what he means by that when Olive interrupts us. "Isn't my new dress pretty, Mom? Daddy bought it for me!"
"That's nice, sweetie. Now, Richard what do you me-"
"Oh, so you're the famous Elizabeth Bennet!" An older man voice says interrupting me yet again. I look up at the owner of the voice. He seems old, probably around his late 50's or early 60's. He's dressed in a suit and he exudes money. He has bright green eyes filled with humor. I would bet his gray hair used to be black. He is being followed by David.
He looks like an older version of David.
Without him presenting himself, I already know who the man standing in front of me is.
"Mom, meet our grandpa!" Olive says excitedly.