When I get home, I go up to my room and change into "proper dinner attire," a silk emerald dress and silver heels, before going downstairs. Yes, really. Lady Catherine and Henry are there already. For a second I worry that I am late. I did walk home, and I took my time getting ready. Lady Catherine hates lateness. Then I look at the grandfather clock in the corner. Right on time. I quietly sit down. Soon, she starts talking. This is different. Usually we eat in complete silence. First, she asks Henry how his day was. He gives a short, boring reply. I'm suddenly reminded of a similar scene two years ago when she brought up my sweet sixteen. The thoughts that went through my mind then: Wait…what? Oh no. If I had known about this sooner, I would have prepared something. I think she knows that. So instead, she waited until just a few months before to spring it on me. Now she probably has the whole thing planned… Oh no. This will be a disaster, and I have no choice in the matter. Now, she's saying that my sweet sixteen was one thing, but I will be eighteen soon, and then I will be presented to society (read: rich, snobbish, petty, vapid people) as an adult. This time, I'm prepared. I've thought of everything, and by the time Lady Catherine brings it up, I tell her as matter-of-factly as I can that it is for the most part settled. She is about to protest when I mention that her dear friend Mrs. Cole said that a young woman's eighteenth birthday is when she must show initiative and fully take charge as party planner and hostess. She is left speechless.
Back at school. I see Thomas again. We make small talk and exchange basic information over lunch. I don't know how or even if I should tell him about my family and financial status just yet, so I simply tell him that my full name is Anne Marie de Bourgh and I live on Rosings Lane. He looks at my clothes and the delicate topaz necklace I put on this morning and we come to an unspoken understanding. Soon, we get into the deeper subjects, and we find we are a perfect match. He asks if I have plans for Friday night. As if. My social life is nonexistent, so he invites me to an event his church is putting on. I'm cheering and singing and doing cartwheels inside.
Sunday. Our pastor, Colin, has been unusually concise and assertive since he got engaged. Today he introduces his fiancée, Miss Charlotte Lucas. She really brings out the best in him. I hear she got him to go to counseling too. Mrs. Cole invites us for lunch. I suddenly have a highly convenient headache. I go home and sneak in through the back door. Now close your eyes (just for a second, otherwise how will you read this?) and think of something relaxing. Me, I make some tea and a parfait, get some scented candles, my favorite books, and a notebook (just in case I suddenly, desperately need to write something down immediately), and turn the radio on to my favorite station. Then I take a long bath. It's a good day.
Hey, Annie, Thomas calls. He runs up from behind me, waving. We have been seeing each other for three weeks now and spending a lot of time together. When she asks, which isn't often, I tell Lady Catherine I am studying with a friend. No, I'm not lying. We really do help each other study. My grades have actually improved. Today I wonder. Should I tell him about Lady Catherine? He'll find out eventually. No, forget it. Maybe in a few weeks…or months. Yesterday she heard a rumor and launched into a tirade that lasted for hours. I tuned out from the beginning, but I did hear something about a motorcycle-riding, shaggy-haired delinquent! No, his hair isn't that long. And he's really nice and considerate, and he volunteers at animal shelters and soup kitchens. Not typical delinquent behavior. But I can't tell her that. I'm feeling tired and depressed. And he notices. But I don't want to talk about that now. I tell him about the party instead. I give him an invitation to my party and take out some catalogs. We spend the next half hour talking about cake flavors and party favors.
Thanksgiving. Usually a day for families and thankfulness and all that, right? Yeah, right. Not at the de Bourgh house. I can't even call it home, because it's not. It's always so still and quiet and lifeless. Lady Catherine went out with her friends this morning and Henry is at work all day. So where am I? I'm at Thomas's apartment making my first turkey dinner with absolutely no help. Turkey, stuffing, gravy, potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. Mmm. His sister Maddie and her husband Edward Gardiner are coming over with their two-year-old son Matt later. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is on TV. Suddenly, he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me. He whispers that he has something to ask me. When I turn around, he is down on one knee and asking me to marry him. Yes. I don't even look at the ring until he slips it on my finger. Of course, it's beautiful. He also gives me a necklace to put it on so Lady Catherine won't see. When the Gardiners arrive, we meet them at the door. It's snowing lightly, and Thomas presents me as his fiancée. We have a lovely dinner and Thomas takes me home a few hours later. Now, even Henry's complaining about the stock market and Lady Catherine's malicious gossip about her so-called friends can't bring me down.
We begin browsing for homes and filling out job applications. And I knit. Ed is a teacher and Maddie is a nurse, but they also sell homemade hats, scarves, mittens, and slippers in their spare time. So cool. I also make a few calls to the dressmaker and cake shop and start packing my things. Of course, we have to be discreet, because Lady Catherine would never allow it if she knew. I pack everything in my dresser, including my binder. It has everything; important documents, photos, pictures I have drawn, stories and poems I have written, journal entries, recipes, and lists of books and songs and movies I like. I move a little more every day, and by the time I'm done, all I have to wear are the things in my closet. I should have planned that better but then, maybe I'll get something halfway decent for my birthday.
Wake up, Anne. I open my eyes and let out a sigh of relief. Good. It was just a dream. No, a nightmare. What's scarier is that tonight may be just as bad. I take a deep breath and burrow under my blanket. Wait a minute! It's Friday. I still have to go to school. I look at the clock. It's only four. I take a shower, get dressed, and sneak down to the kitchen. I make a fruit salad. I can almost hear Lady Catherine counting the calories. Twenty, fifty, one hundred… I take some almonds and walnuts and toss them in.She would probably faint. I look in the fridge and take out a large, nearly empty container of yogurt and pour it on. See? I don't care.
The day passes quickly. Fridays always do. When class gets out I meet Thomas. He's coming to the party tonight, of course, but he gives me his gift in private. A bar of chocolate, a box of tea, glittery gel pens, sparkly temporary tattoos, and a rose. It is perhaps the most thoughtful gift I will receive tonight. We have five minutes together before Jonathan picks me up. I spend the next few hours putting on my dress and getting my hair, nails, and makeup done.
After the disaster that was my sixteenth birthday, I began planning my eighteenth immediately. I am now on my way to an old hotel ballroom, decorated with potted roses and Christmas trees and colorful lights. I designed the invitations myself, but they look very professional, with elegant script in silver ink on dark blue paper that matches my dress, which looks like something one might have worn in the early 1800s. No one would ever guess that it was made by a local dressmaker instead of some designer from Paris or Milan. The cake is a pale blue, with some delicate snowflakes painted on and ten layers of white cake with toffee frosting. It's perfect. It is more exclusive than my sweet sixteen, so about two hundred people come, and dozens of people ask me who made my dress and seem shocked to learn it was not some famous designer. I just laugh and say, Designer labels are so common these days, don't you agree? Originality must be discovered. Like Lady Catherine, they are left speechless. I have a feeling the dressmaker will be very busy with all the people I've referred to her. Thomas sneaks in around nine. Did I mention it's a masquerade ball? Yes, everyone is wearing a mask. Does that seem a little strange, on top of everything else? Well too bad. It's my party. And it's great!
By the time the party ends at two in the morning, I am exhausted. I'm too tired to sort through all my gifts, so I put it all in the closet and leave it there. I wake up at noon and take another look. The purses are all rather flashy or ugly, but I realize they're loaded, and I mean loaded, with gift cards, so it's not a total waste. I perk up quickly and go on a spending spree in the city. This time I have the chauffeur take me because one, Lady Catherine is watching, and two, I'm going to have a ton of stuff to bring home. I have a list of people I need to get presents for. There's Thomas, Edward, Maddie, Matt, Henry, Lady Catherine, Mrs. Jenkinson, Jonathan, the maids, Samantha and Rose, the cooks, Julie and Emily, Brian the gardener, Jeffrey the mechanic, some extended family I hardly know, and family "friends." After I get all of that, most of the stuff I buy goes straight to the first donation bin I see. Next I go to Thomas's apartment. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. Well, he did give me a key. By the time he gets home, I've made half a dozen pies and several sheets of cookies.
I haven't been sick in years. Well, it's finally happened. The germs ganged up and came back with a vengeance. I just woke up and I already know it's going to be a lousy day. I have a splitting headache, my throat is sore, and my nose is stuffed up, and I'm not usually one to complain. The good news: No school. Not much else to say now. I'm going back to sleep.
December 23, 2:38 am. Anne de Bourgh, you have officially lost it. This is the first thought that goes through my mind when I wake up. The idea came to me in a dream a few nights ago. Today it will become a reality. I've never done anything like this before. Lady Catherine is on a week-long cruise and Henry is on a business trip. Now, what does an unsupervised teenager do in a big empty house? That's right! Throw a party! Okay, so it's not really going to be a huge blowout, just a small gathering of people. Tomorrow, the house will be completely empty, as everyone is spending the holidays with friends and family, but today it will be very busy. I'm not worried about anyone telling Lady Catherine. I'm eighteen now, it's my home as well, and no one likes or respects her. They don't even work for her, technically, because Henry's the one who signs their paychecks.
You may be wondering why I'm up so early. Well, yesterday was pretty hectic. I woke up at six to see Lady Catherine and Henry off, had brunch with my "friends," and spent five hours walking (or racing) through the mall for stuff I didn't want or need with said "friends," a group of entitled fake blonde anorexic wannabes who think the most important thing in life is how they look or how much money they can waste. By four, I had a headache and decided to take a little nap. Who would have guessed that taking a long bath, jumping into soft, warm flannel pajamas, drinking hot tea with lemon, closing the curtains, and crawling into bed would put someone straight to sleep for over nine hours? Anyway, I'm feeling perfectly awake and refreshed and ready to go. Now I'm just waiting for the clock to say 2:45 before I make myself get out of bed and get moving.
The floor is cold. I go over my mental checklist while feeling around for my slippers. Presents, check. Cards, check. Christmas bonuses and a heartfelt thank-you and I'm-sorry-for-everything-you-have-to-put-up-with included (phrased a little more delicately, of course). Next I go to the kitchen, turn on some carols, and start baking. I make fruitcakes, pumpkin pies, and cookies before starting on dinner. At eight-thirty, Thomas comes over with a small potted Christmas tree on the back of his motorcycle. I'm still wearing my pajamas. A year ago, I probably would have run upstairs and changed immediately, but I'm so much more relaxed now. He puts the tree on the living room table while I clean up the kitchen, and we split a small pie for breakfast before we start decorating. Thomas strings lights everywhere while I set out some wreaths and candles when suddenly the doorbell rings. The mailman is at the door with two dozen large packages. Thomas's face is priceless. I burst out laughing. My parents stopped buying Henry and me presents years ago. Instead, they let us use their credit cards to order whatever we wanted. I don't think they ever bothered to check what we bought. So this year, I ordered a ton of chocolate and stuff from my favorite catalogs. It took a while, but I found out everyone's favorites. We sample one box and spend about half an hour wrapping the rest before finishing the tree. I go to my room and get the presents I have hidden under my bed and the cards in my desk. Thomas comes to help bring everything down.
Five o'clock. The bell rings. The first guests are Rose Smith and her daughter Sarah. Her husband died two years ago and she desperately needed a job, so Lady Catherine hired her "out of the goodness of her heart." What a joke. Anyway, they're alright now. Next the Gardiners arrive, followed by everyone else with their families. We have dinner and everyone opens their gifts, and I play Christmas tunes on the piano, which leads to everyone either singing along or dancing. Sarah Smith takes over when Thomas asks me to dance. By the time everyone leaves, it's almost midnight, but Thomas stays to help clean up and we have hot cocoa and gingerbread cookies. It's a good night.
Christmas Eve, 11 am. Just woke up. Still a little sleepy. Thomas went home shortly before eleven and I went to sleep soon after. I look outside and see it's beginning to snow. I go into the kitchen and make breakfast, bacon and eggs, pancakes with maple syrup, coffee with a little hot cocoa mixed in, and a candy cane. I take a quick shower, change into jeans and a sweater, and grab my things. Thomas comes over and we eat in front of the TV before going to the Gardiners'. We decided last night that since I'm home alone and there's supposed to be a blizzard coming tonight, it would be best if we spent the night at their house. It's a large red farmhouse Ed inherited from his great-uncle a few years ago. We all go sledding before dinner. After dinner, we go caroling with some neighbors and go to church and it's snowing and everything is perfect.
Christmas morning, 5 am. The blizzard came all right, and now the power is out. Last year, I know, this would have bugged me so much. Inside, I would be having a total meltdown. But now? It's alright. Ask anyone who's got their priorities straight and they'll tell you that the most important things in life are faith and family. This year, I have both. Add in a charming farmhouse in the country, and everything is just about perfect. Mattie is banging on the door and he runs in and pounces on me for good measure. It's Christmas! he yells. Wake up, wake up! He drags me out of bed and into the living room, where Maddie is lighting candles and Ed is getting the fire started. Thomas comes in and we open presents while waiting for breakfast to cook over the fire. I get a red scarf and candles from Ed and Maddie, a music box from Thomas, and a beautiful snowflake ornament I'm told Matt picked out for me all by himself. Once again, I play the piano (of course a farmhouse must have a piano) and we sing carols. We visit some neighbors and play in the snow some more. The power is turned on and the roads are plowed. After dinner, we watch movies, and finally say goodbye around eleven. I can't wait until we're really family.