DISCLAIMER: This is based on a Jane Austen novel. Once you, the readers, have recovered from that shock, you should probably be informed that anything you love, or hate, must be credited to her. Anyone and anything you don't recognize belongs to me. Several subplots will be twisted around in later chapters. MOST IMPORTANTLY: No moose(s) were harmed in the making of this story.
Marcus Emilio Reese stealthily crept toward the Plasma TV located in the middle of Aria Edwards' bedroom. Smirking mischievously, he flipped through the still-muted channels, pausing on VH1. Pounding the volume button on the remote, until the loudest possible volume had been reached, he waited for Aria's gurglings to evolve into her trademark greeting of, "CAN'T YOU RESPECT MY DELICATE FEMININE SENSIBILITIES… JUST THIS ONCE!"
Marcus removed her covers with a theatrical flourish, declaring that women of the twenty-first century had been known to participate in belching the National Anthem, mud-wrestling, and driving eighteen-wheelers, so "Delicate Feminine Sensibilities" were overrated. Turning his attention to the Oz Fest rerun, he yelped at the sight of a burly, tattooed, stereotypical biker chowing down on live gerbils.
"Aria, how can you watch this crap! It's like I'm always telling you, Delicate Feminine Sensibilities are all the rage these days."
At twenty-three, Aria Edwards still couldn't fathom Marcus's reasoning for waking her up at exactly the same time, in exactly the same way, as he had for the past seventeen years. Rather than demand answers to these burning questions, she showered him with praises of the how-would-I-ever-manage-without-you-Marcus variety.
Marcus Emilio Reese had been Aria's best friend since she could remember. There hadn't been a moment in her life he hadn't experienced with her. During her mother's illness, he had respected her wishes of sitting in silence. During her years of being trained in proper etiquette, he had snuck into her lessons and placed gum on the seat of her teacher's chair. During puberty, he had never laughed at the rate she acquired certain body parts, or attempted to escape from her mood swings. He knew how she drank her chocolate milk. She knew how much butter he put on his toast.
Everyone believed they were a "perfect couple." He was a sandy-haired, amber-eyed, muscular youth with a roguish smile and a sense of humor that bordered on being scandalous. She was a raven-haired, hazel-eyed, delicate, curvaceous young woman with a slightly-upturned nose. Aria, in her typical outfits of pigtails, blouses, plaid skirts (much like Brittney Spears during the Era of Hit Me Baby, One More Time), and layers of socks, wasn't stunning enough to be picked out of a crowd, but up close, she could be described as "pretty enough." Marcus, in his typical outfits of hoodies baring the name of some sports team in bold letters, jeans enormous enough to fit himself and fourteen sumo-wrestlers, and neon-colored Converse high-tops, could be picked out of a crowd; however, due to this towering height.
On this particular morning, she would be working the 7 a.m. shift at the Kelly Lynch Preparatory University and Conservatory Campus Starbucks before attending the KLPUC Board Meeting and Luncheon with her father. After her mother's death, her father had recruited her to take the minutes at these meetings. She had always believed that no twelve-year-old should know anything about the budgetary concerns of a university, but when her father demanded her obedience, she was powerless to disobey. Not that her father appreciated her determination to please him, of course.
Mr. Waldon Eddlestein lovingly examined the cover of his only published work, entitled Beyond Perfection: The Glorious History of the Edwards Family. The pages had begun to disintegrate years ago, but he couldn't seem to overcome his obsession with one page in particular…the page about his personal triumphs. Much like the Acclaimed Participants of Biblical Times, Mr. Waldon Edwards, Dean of Kelly Lynch Preparatory University and Conservatory, had married the highly sought-after Socialite, Elianna Stephen, and, consequently, begotten himself a respectable brood consisting of: Elianna, Aria, a still-born son, and Marita. Acclaimed Participants of Biblical Times, you see, always seemed to begetting someone or other of great importance.
At fifty-four years young, Mr. Waldon Edwards was an undeniably handsome gentleman, with the merest flecks of silver in his hair, a sturdy physique, and piercing, emerald eyes. He had yet to develop a requisite Beer-Belly and wrinkles and age spots and arthritis and kidney failure and use of dentures and, most keenly perceived by Aria, a shred of common sense. Mr. Waldon Edwards spent the majority of his life preening; he stood for hours simply staring at himself in any mirror or reflective surface he happened to come across.
Much to Aria's disgust, Elianna was no better. With her auburn curls, lips that Angelina Jolie would envy, blinding pearly whites, and perfect complexion, Elianna looked exactly like one of the bimbos in an Old Navy commercial. Elianna only cared about her appearance, and the fact that her father loved her best. Were she not the female version of their father ("Her Father with Tits," Marcus crowed during their more infuriating moments), Aria was certain Mr. Waldon Edwards would shower Elianna with as much attention and affection as he gave Aria…absolutely NONE.
Aside from his appearance, Mr. Waldon Edwards could only be bothered with one thing… making lavish purchases; for Mr. Waldon Edwards was a bone-a-fide Shopaholic. Should an item grace the Home Shopping Network, Antiques Roadshow, any site on the Internet, Billboards, sides of buses, Spam Email, etc., Mr. Waldon Edwards was sure to purchase it, usually multiple times.
The most horrifying purchase had occurred just two days ago when Aria awoke to find a pair of glazed eyes hovering above her, glazed eyes accompanied by putrid breath, blackened teeth, a multitude of matted hair, and an intimidating set of antlers. Her father had sequestered a moose in her bedroom, which Marcus had exuberantly mounted, as if a Cowboy on horseback.
She would not tolerate a moose in her room at such an ungodly hour of the morning! Being treated like an inconvenience, while Elianna was regarded as a queen, was one thing, but a bloody moose in her bloody bedroom… there just weren't words to describe the injustice! She needn't have worried about revenge; however, because the very next day she learned the awful truth. Her father's spending had sent them into poverty; well, poverty compared with a ten-story house and bearskin rugs.
Her father had been one of Kelly Lynch Preparatory University and Conservatory's most respected Deans, as had many Edwards Men before him, but Mr. Slipknot, Counsel to the President of Kelly Lynch Preparatory University and Conservatory (Slipknot Men had befriended Edwards Men since the beginning of time), had no choice but to inform his dearest friend that if he was unable to make the payments for his University-provided lodgings, his position as Dean would be offered to someone capable of affording the ever-skyrocketing costs of said living expenses.
To add insult to injury, Mr. Waldon Edwards' other dear friend, Mrs. Ester Rosenburg, sagely advised that he rent out his home (which Edwards Men had fondly referred to as the "Mini Mansion" for generations), until he had sold enough of his precious belongings to remove him from poverty. Mrs. Ester Rosenburg was particularly determined that the moose should be the first thing to go, even if Mr. Waldon Edwards ignored the remainder of her advice.
Aria was her favorite child of the Edwards Brood, and she could never forgive Mr. Waldon Edwards and Elianna for their cruel treatment of her. Granted, Aria possessed no striking features, passion for shopping, or fashion sense, but she was gracious, kind, loving, accepting, and all that could ever be desired in a daughter and dearest friend. Elianna, though Mrs. Rosenburg had attempted for years to convince her to obtain Aria's admirable traits, refused to behave as her younger sister did…in any situation. Mrs. Ester Rosenburg eventually resolved herself to the fact that Elianna, and the already-wedded Marita, were lost causes.
Another source of continuous agony to Mrs. Ester Rosenburg was Elianna's best friend Mrs. Cross. Mrs. Cross had been married once, but, as marriages will inevitably turn out when the wife is cursed with tragically protruding teeth and hideous feckless, as Mr. Waldon Edwards would say, she wound up divorced and living, with her two children, in her parents' house. Mrs. Ester Rosenburg had absolutely no respect, and even less use, for a divorced woman. What kind of woman was she if she was unable to fulfill her feminine responsibilities (being a wife, a mother, and a homemaker)?
Mrs. Ester Rosenburg also believed Mrs. Cross was unforgivably daft, what with the way she constantly flattered Elianna, agreed with whatever came tumbling out of Elianna's mouth, and encouraged Elianna to speak vulgarly and spend her time with the wrong sort of people… musicians and artists and actors and writers. What would straighten Elianna out immediately, Mrs. Ester Rosenburg believed, were friends from a Chess Club.
Mrs. Ester Rosenburg was considered the Oracle of the group. Her predictions typically came to pass. She had warned Mr. Waldon Edwards for years that his spending would lead him down the path to financial ruin. Now that Mr. Waldon Edwards' poverty was upon them, she had absolutely no idea why Aria continued to be trampled upon, and why the moose had yet to be sold. Regardless of these minor setbacks, with the intimidating dress suits she wore (generally made from royal purple fabrics), accessorized with lethally-high heels, and her silver hair consistently swept up in a no-nonsense bun, Mrs. Ester Rosenburg's role of Omnipotent Matriarch came as no surprise to anyone.
Mr. Slipknot, painfully aware that Mr. Waldon Edwards was leveling him with a bloodthirsty Glare of Death, agreed with Mrs. Ester Rosenburg that the Mini Mansion must be rented, and he felt that, with the Kelly Lynch Preparatory University and Conservatory President's express permission of course, a 4-Star General from World War II would be the perfect candidate.
Mr. Waldon Edwards was disgusted beyond measure. Generals were hardly fit to eat dog droppings from his bearskin rug! Years of struggling to survive countless battles had left the majority of them tanned to a crisp, with mud-clogged fingernails and missing limbs. No General of Mr. Waldon Edwards' acquaintance, not that he had ever met a General, of course, had managed to retain the handsomeness of his youth. And Generals came from poor families, but demanded respect simply because they had fought for their country's freedom. Mr. Waldon Edwards believed that reasoning was bullshit! He would have been the first to defend his country, if he hadn't been afraid of soiling his uniform.
Mr. Slipknot blubbered that Mr. Waldon Edwards had better change his tune, since General Creed and his wife had already agreed to visit the Mini Mansion next week. Mr. Slipknot comforted Mr. Waldon Edwards with the information that the Creeds had no children, so Mr. Waldon Edwards' furniture would not be ruined, and having such a famous gentleman live in his home would give him endless bragging rights. Mr. Waldon Edwards was immediately cheered, until Mr. Slipknot mentioned Mrs. Creed's relatives.
Mrs. Creed's brother was Mr. Winters. Mr. Winters lived in one of the upscale neighborhoods about five minutes away from the Kelly Lynch Preparatory University and Conservatory Campus. A neighbor of Mr. Winters had crept onto Mr. Winters' lawn in broad daylight in a foolish attempt to steal Mr. Winters' mailbox. This near-thievery had inspired quite a stir among the otherwise quiet community. Mailboxes were jealously guarded following the incident, and Mr. Winters' reputation was ruined.
Noticing the twitching of Mr. Waldon Edwards' eye at the reminder of the Mailbox Incident, Mr. Slipknot immediately changed the subject to General Creed being honored by several Presidents of the United States. Anyone would be pleased to have such a hero renting their home. Mr. Waldon Edwards brightened instantly, and eagerly began planning his move to Boston where a Dean was sorely needed at Claremont University.
Aria was heartbroken by the idea of a future in Boston. She had visited once after her mother's death and had no fond memories of the city. More depressing was the knowledge that Mrs. Creed's relatives would be swarming through her house, especially the thought of HIM being among the swarm.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I dedicate this with love and respect to the person who inspired me to attempt writing my own Modernized Tale, even though I never realized how difficult creating these Modern Versions were before I tried to write one. She is an amazing authoress and an even more magnanimous person than I could ever dream of being (how many people would be willing to let their stories be so brutally dissected and poked fun at). In short: YOU ROCK! I also dedicate this to my Aunt Kim, who, although she'll never read this, has always pushed me to write ANYTHING and finish it. Infinite hugs and kisses, Aunt Kim! In closing, I wish to dedicate this to one of the most important friendships of my life, which ended so tragically, as a means of closure. Even though we were never able to patch things up, you're always in my thoughts.
