Before completing this chapter, my brain took a little detour which resulted in an outtake from Elizabeth's POV that fits within The Detachment Attachment storyline called Realization. If you haven't checked it out, you may want to do so. You can find it as one of the stories listed on my profile. I have vague plans to at some point make it a two-shot with a dream from Darcy.


XXXI

On the morning of Jane's wedding, the sisters slept late. They were all in Elizabeth's room of the apartment, Elizabeth and Jane on Elizabeth's full-sized bed and Mary on her twin bed mattress that they had brought into Elizabeth's room the night before, making the room more bed than anything else. Mary was in one of her normal positions of repose, on her left side, covered up to her chin by her quilt, face turned towards her sisters.

Mary was the first to rouse, dully aware of some sort of ringing. A phone? A doorbell? A car alarm? Then she knew.

Mary jumped up and ran to her room where her alarm had reached its maximum volume. It was 7:39 and she was running late. Unlike her sisters, she had to be at work. After a quick shower in which the water never reached its ideal temperature, Mary dressed and flew out of the house a banana and her lunch box in her hand, her purse slung over her arm. In her rush, she forgot all about her promise the night before to get her sisters up when she left for work.

While Mary was only about five minutes late, the first couple of children had already arrived and were waiting with their parents in front of the classroom door. Although the building was open for early drop-off in the recreation room, the regular classrooms weren't supposed to open for another ten minutes. Reina's face was buried against her knit snake as she wailed, her mother Ximena Vasquez crouched down and stroking her back as she tried to comfort her daughter. Grace was nearby, holding her penguin. "Don't cry, Rey-Rey. Miss May or Miss Mary can fix him."

Mary unlocked the door, flipped on the lights and said, "Come on in." Once they were all in, but for Grace's dad who gave a half wave and left, Mary asked, "Did something happen to Slytherin?"

Mrs. Vasquez explained, "Reina's dad had her for the weekend and she just came back last night. Slytherin got dirty so I washed him on delicate. He looked fine afterwards and out of the dryer, too, but the yarn must have frayed or something because . . ."

"He's cut in two," Reina moved her face to the side to explain before smashing her face back into her lovey.

Mrs. Vasquez clarified, "A piece of yarn broke in the middle and unraveled part of both sides. I used some safety pins to try to stop it from getting worse but I don't know how to fix it. I do have the matching purple yarn because her Abuelita sent it with the snake." Mary noticed, now, that Mrs. Vasquez was grasping a sandwich-sized bag with a little ball of hand-rolled yarn.

Mary bent down by Reina, "Can you let me see Slytherin? I want to see if I can help him."

Reina gradually lifted her head an inch or two and extended her hands a bit toward Mary. Mary saw the glint of the safety pins around the snake.

"Let's put him on the table," Mary suggested. "We'll pretend he is going to the doctor for his exam."

"Like when Pooh went to the eye doctor?" Grace asked, apparently recalling the social story Mary had made with pictures of Pooh and seeing Pooh come into school with an eye patch.

"Yes," Mary responded, hoping that Reina recalled it, too. It might help her feel better to know that Slytherin, too, could be helped. She resisting the urge to explain once again that an eye doctor was called an ophthalmologist. Many adults didn't know that term, or if they did, thought it was interchangeable with optometrist.

"But Miss Mary, why did Pooh go to an eye doctor instead of a vet?" Grace pestered, tugging on Mary's sleeve to get her attention.

Mary paused from coaxing Reina to put her snake on the table, and looked over at Grace, a little annoyed. Mary wanted to see exactly what was wrong with the snake and hopefully fix him. Before Mary could answer, Grace noted, "He's a bear; bears go to the vet. Pooh's an animal, well not really." She screwed up her face, apparently thinking hard. "Tigger is made out of rubber and springs. The song says so. But that's in the cartoon. Tigger and Pooh stuffed animals are really just made of fabric and stuffing. Instead of going to the vet, they should go to . . ." At this point Grace was trying to remember who might fix a stuffed animal. "To those people who sew."

Reina lifted her head a little more and asked in a small voice, "Miss Mary, do you sew?"

Mary looked over at Reina, who was looking up at her wide eyed, her brown eyes framed by thick lashes. Her forehead was obscured by her thick brown hair and the rest of her face was still hidden in her snake.

"Yes, a little," Marcy replied, surprised that Grace's prattling had apparently somehow reassured Reina. "I also knit and crochet. Hopefully I can fix Slytherin if I can see what is wrong with him."

That answer was apparently enough for Reina as she quickly walked over to the table and put her snake down, carefully straightening him so his body lay in a line. Then she began stroking Slytherin's body near the tail end, telling him over and over, "It will be okay." Reina's mother was rubbing her daughter's back at the same time and murmuring, "Hijita, all will be well. Señorita Mary lo ayudará." When Slytherin was laid out and Mary got a better look at him, it was quickly evident that he indeed had a big split in his neck and the safety pins had not entirely stopped the unraveling. Mary asked, "Grace could you help me and get the chopstick bin?"

"Sure, Miss Mary," Grace trotted off and returned with the box of chopsticks Miss May had been using to demonstrate some counting techniques as they bundled well into stacks of tens and hundreds.

"Now, Reina, can you get ten single chopsticks out of the box?" Mary asked.

Reina gave Slytherin one final pat, telling him, "I have to help Miss Mary now," before she ducked down, opened the lid and began counting as she handed chopsticks to Grace, who laid them out carefully on the table. Mary began threading the chopsticks through the loops (like double sided needles used to knit in the round).

Once Mary was satisfied that the damage was stopped, Mary instructed Grace, "Go get a pair of safety scissors." While Grace got the scissors, Mary started pulling things out of her purse and placing them on the table. Mary knew she had a sewing kit. While that might help, that was not what she was primarily searching for. At the very bottom of her front compartment with the pens, Mary found a crochet needle.

Sending a silent prayer of thanks aloft (Mary could have improvised without the crocket needle, but it was so much better not to have to do so), she began picking up dropped stitches, then securing each top loop on a chopstick while Reina, Grace and Reina's mother watched. Mary acquired a bigger and bigger audience as the other children arrived at the classroom.

There was such an interest in the activity that Miss May asked as Mary was finishing, "Who would like to learn how to hand crocket a chain to make a worm?" Every hand shot up and the regularly scheduled activities were delayed while Mary and Miss May showed the children how to make slip knots, pull the loose yarn partway through the loop to form a new loop, tighten and repeat. It was a difficult task for small fingers and Mary and Miss May were busy going from child to child, helping and demonstrating. But by the end, each child had a little "worm" and at least a few children had mastered the activity and were working on a second worm alone.

With the unexpected interruption and change to her work day, Mary felt like she was playing catch up the rest of the day. It wasn't until her lunch break at 11:30 am that Mary even had time to check her phone (which she always set to silent before leaving for work).

Mary was hungry, not having had time that morning for anything but the banana, but she also had a pretty meager lunch, having just stuffed an apple, a yogurt and a packet with two thin granola bars in her lunch box. Unfortunately, she'd forgotten a spoon, but the granola bar was an adequate substitution for scooping yogurt and coconut flavor went well with it. It wasn't until Mary had finished her apple that she finally pulled out her phone and put in her code.

Mary found she had three missed calls and seven texts. Mary's whole body tensed up before she had clicked on either icon. Mary had visions of Nana being found dead, of there being a terrible car accident involving Elizabeth and Jane.

With shaking hands Mary touched the phone icon and found three missed calls from her mom. She let out a shaky breath. Her mom was prone to calling multiple times, hoping that it would make the person pick up.

Mary checked the texts. There was her mom again, Charlie, Darcy and Henry. While her mom and Henry were to be expected, it was odd to get texts from the other guys.

Then Mary had a sudden intuition about what had prompted all the attempts to get a hold of her. "Shoot!" she verbalized. I was supposed to get them up before I left for work.

Mary read her mom's messages first:

Mom: Your sisters are late and not answering their phone.

Mom: What is going on? We were supposed to assemble the centerpieces.

Mom: Jane is going to miss her manicure appointment.

Mary put off responding in favor of seeing what had been texted from the others:

Charlie: Your mom called looking for Jane. I guess they are late getting to your mom's house? I told her Jane had spent the night with Lizzy and you. You weren't up too late partying, were you? Jane's phone went straight to voicemail. I bet she forgot to charge it again. Good thing it's an evening wedding, huh! (winking emoticon)

Mary: Sorry Charlie. I'm at work. Did you ever get a hold of them?

Next she checked the message from Darcy.

Darcy: I'm at Charlie's. He's wanting me to go knock on your apartment door to find Jane. Your mom is after him to find out why she hasn't shown yet. He'd go, but he knows Jane doesn't want him to see her until the wedding.

Mary: I'm at work. Did you find them?

Next she checked Henry's message.

Henry: How's work going? I'm looking forward to seeing you tonight. Let me know if you need any help setting up for the wedding or an errand boy. I am at your disposal.

Mary: Thanks. Work has been super busy. I messed up and forgot to wake my sisters up this morning and there were all these messages for me wondering where they are. I really hope it has all been sorted now.

Then Mary reluctantly listened to her voice mails, deleting each one after she listened.

"Mary, Mary pick up! Call me, this is your mother."

"Mary, are you with Jane? We've got a busy schedule. So much to do to get everything ready."

"Mary, it is already ten. None of you girls are picking up."

Ding! A new message from Darcy popped up.

Darcy: I knocked on the door several times but no one came. The doorbell appears to be broken. I went to see the manager, but she won't let me in.

Mary hit the phone icon and Darcy answered on the first ring. "Mary, any suggestions?"

"Did you talk to Mrs. French?"

"Yes."

"She isn't very helpful, mostly because she can't be bothered," Mary explained. "I'd like to leave work and see to it myself, but there really isn't anyone to cover for me today and my lunch break is almost up. But I could get you my apartment key if you can pick it up. The daycare is pretty close."

Darcy agreed and they made arrangements for him to get her key. About forty minutes later, Darcy was outside the apartment, knocking one last time. He didn't fancy the idea of walking in on them changing or something.

Having once again gotten no response, Darcy turned the key. He opened the door a few inches, yelling "Hello, hello" through the opening before opening the door all the way and stepping inside. Right after he stepped into the apartment, he heard a faint ring which he recognized as the one for Elizabeth's phone. His eyes were drawn to a purse near the front door, which he recognized as belonging to Elizabeth. Well, that explains why she isn't answering.

As Darcy walked through the combined room that was part living room, part dining room, part kitchen, he spotted a dirty blender and an empty bottle of Tequila on the counter. Walking closer, he noticed the chopped off tails of strawberries and smelled something sweet. He walked over to the open garbage can and spotted the leafy top of a pineapple, and slices of its rind half-burying a bottle of what had to be some other kind of liquor and margarita mix packets.

Darcy had to stop himself from tidying the kitchen, reminding himself of his mission to get Jane and Elizabeth up. He walked down the hall, pausing to take a quick look into Mary's room as the door was ajar. He noticed everything in it was tidy and utilitarian, but for the bed which was only the box springs.

He reached Elizabeth's door and knocked once, twice, thrice. "Wake up Lizzy, wake up Jane!"

Darcy got no response so he tried the knob. It wasn't locked so he cracked it open and yelled again. Hearing nothing but a faint moan, he opened the door which hit something at around a foot and a half in. He looked down and saw a mattress covered by a quilt.

While Darcy pondered whether he could make it through the opening left by the mattress or could perhaps shift it, he peered inside. There, on Elizabeth's bed, where he and Elizabeth had cuddled, kissed and more (but where he had never spent the night, as Elizabeth explained, "I don't want to upset Mary, she has definite opinions about what is proper"), were Jane and Elizabeth.

Both sisters appeared to still be asleep. Jane was sleeping on the edge of the near side of the bed on her side, with her head pointing in Darcy's direction. In her repose, she was quite lovely. Despite the detritus of a night of drinking left in the kitchen, her face was unmarked, and her blonde hair surrounded her head like a halo. With her high cheekbones, flawless skin, and perfectly proportioned features, she looked like the sort of woman who could have won a Miss America pageant if they had a category for "sleeping beautiful."

But Darcy's perusal of Jane lasted only seconds, just enough to ascertain that she was in fact asleep, before he turned his attention toward Elizabeth. While Elizabeth's head was near Jane's, Elizabeth had fallen asleep across the width of the bed on her stomach, her feet dangling off in the space between the side and the wall. Darcy could only see the tip of her nose as the rest of her face was obscured by her dark, curly hair that corkscrewed and careened this was and that, like a ball of yarn a kitten had tangled.

A blue blanket and white sheet covered Jane fully, pulled lower on the side where her head lay, while Elizabeth was more covered on her left side than her right. The sheet covered Elizabeth completely, but the top end of the blanket ended just before her right shoulder and arm.

Darcy felt very uncomfortable being there, but quickly resolved that if he had to shake one of them awake, it would be much better to rouse his girlfriend Elizabeth than her sister, Jane. Darcy knelt upon Mary's mattress, crawling forward so as not to step upon her quilt with his shoes. As he made his way forward across the pieced cloth in shades of pink and rose against a background of light blue, he recognized the pattern, double wedding ring.

Darcy could hear Jane snoring, a gentle, delicate sound, like a small, cuddly animal might make. Did bunnies snore? Elizabeth was snoring, too, but it was more like a distant chainsaw, more rough than cute. That very sound had awoken Darcy more than once, although of course Elizabeth denied that she snored.

Darcy leaned over Jane, located Elizabeth's shoulder and shook it, while saying loudly again, "Wake up Lizzy, wake up Jane."

Elizabeth moaned something unintelligible and did not rouse. Darcy added his other hand to her other shoulder and pushed, trying for flipping her over, but the angle was awkward. Elizabeth began trying to bat him away with her hands, but instead of connecting with him, managed to push at Jane, who rolled away. If Darcy hadn't been there, perhaps Jane would have rolled off the bed and onto the mattress below. Because he was, Jane rolled against his chest as Darcy tried to grab at her and propel her back on the bed.

As Darcy grabbed and pushed, no time to really think, no time to do anything but react, he wasn't sure quite what parts of Jane he was touching through her sleep shirt; he hoped just arms and back. Jane's eyelids flipped open as he pushed at her, her sleepy doe eyes quickly shifting to squinty, quizzical confusion. "Huh?"

Jane clunked heads with Elizabeth, who exclaimed, "Ow!"

Darcy pulled his hands back and up, in a "hands up" posture, but pulled back as far as he could. He scrambled back, not thinking about the fact that he hadn't wanted to walk on Mary's bed, or the fact that the mattress was about to end, stumbling and slipping on the vinyl plank floor, ankles crossing and thumping on one hip as his shoulder hit the wall. "Oooof!"

Through the sudden burst of pain, Darcy wasn't able to right himself for a few moments, or at least sit up sideways in the space between the mattress and the wall. When he did, he saw two sets of eyes staring at him, one blue and the other brown.

"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth demanded. She was propped up on her elbows, still reclined on her stomach. She didn't seem angry so much as confused. Her face was creased on one side from sleeping on a wrinkled sheet and there was flaky dried drool on that side of her face. She looked tired and mussed to Darcy, but also delectable in her Broncos sleep shirt with its rounded neck skewed to one side, showing part of her shoulder and a hint of cleavage.

Jane was sitting demurely on the edge of the bed in a long pink nightgown, her legs crossed, her straight blonde hair forward over one shoulder. She added in a gentler tone, "Why are you in Lizzy's room? How did you get in the apartment?"

"Uh," Darcy struggled to think, "Elizabeth, Jane, you need to get up. Your mom needs you for wedding stuff. Charlie sent me; Mary gave me the keys."

Darcy could see the moment when his words sunk in with each woman. Jane's slightly darker brows lifted skyward and she covered the forming "O" of her mouth with one graceful hand. Elizabeth grimaced and swore.