A/N: Thanks so much to those of you who have already read my story and left comments! I can't believe how responsive this community is, and it's much appreciated. That being said, a few things I wanted to clarify. First, yes, I renamed some of the characters including the title character Lizzie Bennet. Normally, I would super duper protest an author doing this because I tend to be a P&P purist, but, I was in the mood to try something a little more creative and a little more inspired by the novel instead of a direct reflection of the story itself. So, if you are also in the mood to try something a little different, then welcome to my journey. :o) Also, I know that Sam is kind of a B word in the prologue. I actually did that on purpose, so again, you'll just have to trust my creative process a bit. And, if it's not to your liking, then I am totally not offended, so don't worry about that. 2 more comments on organization, then I'm done, lol. 1 - the story starts off in the middle (prologue) with my take on the proposal scene, then moves to the beg. of P&P and goes chronologically from there. 2 - there will be some POV shifts throughout the story and I'll try to make it clear whose perspective you're getting, though I'm going to see if I can get away without telling you exactly who's talking (i.e. Sam POV). Let's see if you guys can follow the clues on your own. Happy reading! And, as always, feedback is much appreciated. :o)
As he sat amongst the English Department faculty, Tom Dawson reflected on the true blessings that his life had wrought. It wasn't often that he took an optimistic stance—that went expressly against his inherently cynical and sarcastic nature—but today of all days deserved a view through rose colored glasses because today his 2nd child, his favorite, was graduating from college.
Tom had been a reluctant parent, much more at home with books and Bach than babies and burp cloths. But, even at a young age, Sam had shown a spark, a cleverness and a true appreciation for the ridiculousness of everyday life, that brought out the best in Tom. And thank God he wasn't seated next to his wife right now and was instead ensconced comfortably amongst the faculty of Hertford College so he could actually enjoy the pleasantness of this moment.
"Samantha Elizabeth Dawson"
Hearing her name belted over the loud speakers in the auditorium, Sam took a deep breath and stepped across the stage. She smiled to her professors, shook hands with the Dean of Students—firmly of course—and walked as steadily as she could in 4" heels down the ramp, her diploma held tightly to her breast. "Finally," she thought, "a touch of recognition for the 4 years spent without sleep, living on ramen noodles, and soaking in The New York Times like it was her lifeblood." But, at the same time, while she smiled in front of the university seal proudly displaying her achievements for the photographers, she felt a strange sense of emptiness and foreboding. For 4 years of high school she'd been Sam Dawson, editor of The Hertfordshire Herald, captain of the debate team, and all around smarty pants. Then 4 years of college saw her as Dr. Dawson's clever little offspring, fro-yo connoisseur, and fierce investigative journalist (Seriously, would anyone else have discovered the testosterone doping on the women's lacrosse team if she hadn't wandered into the ladies' locker room at an ungodly hour?). Now, she was just one among many unemployed college grads with no prospects returning home to mom and dad's for the summer and praying that the HR gods would smile upon them with offerings of health care packages, 401Ks, and noble causes to boot.
"Oh my God Samantha, is that lipstick on your teeth?"
Enter, Elaine Dawson. She was Sam's mother, had been for 22 years—obviously—and for that alone Sam loved her, but honestly, they functioned better when they weren't sharing the same oxygen. Noting her mother's desperate, and unsurprisingly loud pleas to "lick your teeth sweetie," Sam closed her mouth, smiled—as naturally as she could given the mortification—and moved swiftly to follow her fellow graduates back to their seats. As the provost read off another round of names—Gethsemane Elise Bertuzzi, harsh mom and dad, yikes!—Sam recognized that she'd have to embrace her current situation come what may or perish. Little did she know what was really coming her way.
