Sorry for the 10 day hiatus. There was a tragic death in the extended family. In keeping with this, I am moving forward with life- both RL and FF while acknowledging the loss, my grief, and that of others. I want to dedicate the story to everyone who feels like a misfit
+o+o+o+o+o
Thanks to all my betas who contributed in different ways: lovingyouisbest, JD Bell; Joy Booth and Fredrica.
Again, if anyone is interested in helping beta, PM me.
Final tweaking is my own.
Mother stands for comfort
Lizzy groaned when minutes later her phone rang.
"You'd better get that, I know you've been avoiding her all night and she'll just keep calling."
"Maeve, since when have you ever told me what to do? Even in class?"
"You know I'm a Southern girl and a girl respects her momma."
"Geez. Alright." Lizzy sighed as she picked up the continually ringing phone and ducked around the corner to the stock inside the shop.
Francesca's shrill speech was easily heard by Maeve and Darcy. "What are you doing? You'll wear yourself out working so hard! You should do something else on a Friday night."
Lizzy sighed. "Mom, the fair stuff is done. You don't need me. Besides, you know I have to work tonight."
Francesca pressed, I know nothing of the kind. They don't pay you enough to work so hard. You'll exhaust yourself for nothing."
"What else do I have to do tonight? Lizzy asked through gritted teeth.
"Well Jane and her boyfriend Charles are on a date, and they even came to the house tonight to help the kids with their projects. Jane is such a good girl, even with her 'injury'." Francesca's voice dropped.
"Mom, you don't have to whisper like that. Everyone knows about Jane's leg, she's still a capable human being for g-ds sake- and Charles loves her for who she is, so stop making a big deal of it." Lizzy's voice was raised.
"He is such a good boy to date her even if she isn't beautiful like she used to be." Francesca's voice was dramatically shaky.
"MOM! I think she's even more beautiful… but anyway, I really can't talk now, I have to get back to work." Lizzy's voice continued to rise.
"That's just fine. Spend your evenings how you like, for all the good it does. You'd do well to find a young man who will respect your heritage. You have no appreciation for it yourself. No wonder Cole and Wickham threw you over." Her mother now sounded like she was crying. Lizzy knew it was only an affectation.
Lizzy didn't notice Darcy look up, face reddened, at the metion of a certain name, but Maeve did. She shook her head and mouthed not now. It's alright.
Meanwhile Francesca continued "You didn't even date one of those nice 4-H boys all the years you were in it. I told you not to take all Home Ec projects but you wouldn't listen and now you're up there with all those lesbians. Francesca's tone became more shrill and wobbly."
"Mom!" Lizzy howled.
"Well, it's true. Who else makes a career of sewing anyway?" Maeve and Darcy looked at each other, eyebrows raised.
"Aunt Phillips." Maeve nodded emphatically.
"But she sells antiques. Very classy I'd say and she has someone do the sewing for her, probably an illegal." Darcy's jaw dropped at Francesca's most offensive statement yet.
"MOM! She is a generous employer and it isn't any of our business who she employs. ANYWAY, some of us ARE working tonight." Lizzy emphasized.
"It's just too bad you aren't working with your brother and sister at home on their project. They could use your help before the fair, but I guess you never did care about being a good sister to them, always off gallivanting around to your gallery openings and melodramas or doing goodness knows what, having to deal with undressed people all the time, probably perverts." Francesca's volume was lower but she was speaking between sniffles, now.
"That isn't what I do, and you should know if you spent the time on MY interests but you didn't. So, your loss. Goodnight mom. Don't wait up." Lizzy heaved another sigh and hung up. "ARRRRGH!" Lizzy half growled, half howled, still behind the curtain of stock.
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She stayed there for a few minutes until Maeve commented. "You know how proud she'll be when you're through."
"No, Maeve, I doubt she'll even come to the show. She doesn't care that I wanted to take art and theatre. She never came to my school events back then. Only to my 4-H shit, and she hated it every time I did stuff outside the rules." Lizzy resumed patterning 2 simple dresses.
"It's really a shame no one in the family got to see your work in Lambton." Maeve said.
Lizzy shook her head, eyes on her work. "I wasn't expecting it. Everyone is busy. I sent pictures to Aunt Phil and Tia. They appreciated it."
"Speaking of which, I noticed some pictures you sent me with some interesting characters. I'd love to hear about them. You must have been fending off the boys like you always do, and yet, I heard next to nothing of any boys in Lambton." Maeve nonchalantly continued working at her table. Lizzy looked oddly at Maeve, noticing that Darcy nodded at her mentor.
Lizzy looked up at her and blushed. "Well, one in particular certainly tried. At first I thought something might come of it. Wickham reminded me of Cole. And then I realized something. Wickham reminded me of Cole. Nope, I didn't go there and I am glad. I was happily single and independent the whole summer and it was nice. Who knows what that Wickham bloke is up to, now. He moved in with the Stage Manager from this summer's crew, at her ranch south of here.
Somehow he ingratiated himself into my family and cooks supper there from time to time. I like his food but that's about it. He's kind of got this wounded thing going on and the last thing I want is a fixer upper. Thank g-d he doesn't seem interested in me anymore, I was getting sick of fending him off."
"Do you mind me asking if that was _ Wickham?"
"The very one."
"You have a younger brother, I believe?"
"He's 17."
"I hope you don't mind me mentioning that I know Wickham and unfortunately, so did my own younger brother. I wish Jorge had never met the man. I hope that your brother doesn't have the same experience. If I'm not being too officious, I hope at least the whole family is together and your brother ?"
"-Lydon." Lizzy interjected.
"-Lydon- doesn't spend time with him alone." Darcy's eyes were earnest.
Lizzy regarded Darcy. "What an odd suggestion. I don't suppose you're saying that out of paranoia."
"I assure you I'm not." Lizzy noticed the tenseness of his posture.
"Well, thanks for the advice. I'll pass it on, for what it's worth." He looked up at her with a serious expression.
" Not that I disbelieve you. My parents are pretty…lax. I honestly doubt they'll think much of it. But I'll keep it in mind." Lizzy was pensive, but held back the questions from Darcy. She told herself that it must not be what she assumed, but didn't dare find out. It just seemed too unrealistic to think that of Wickham, no matter how odd his behavior. No, she really would just keep his suggestion in mind and hope for the best.
As if echoing her thoughts, Darcy spoke: "I hope for the best for everyone concerned,"
Maeve kept silent but her eyes communicated to Lizzy what words could not. Nothing seemed appropriate to say, at least for a time, and so each worked and listened to the music, in their own thoughts.
Eventually conversation picked back up again about less fearsome subjects. Darcy asked Elizabeth how she learned her craft, and she proceeded to tell anecdotes about 4-H projects, her days sneaking around to Aunt Phil's and the finagling she had to do with Francesca to focus on sewing at the expense of 4-H projects like horticulture and livestock. She went on to recount how she convinced Francesca in the soundness of her plan to learn the craft of making clothes rather than the business end, and how she had to continue to hustle her mom so school expenses could get paid.
Through well timed questions, Darcy was able to get Lizzy to share more about how she'd planned to go to New York with Cole and when that plan fell through, she'd come up with the plan to go into business for herself, some of which might include costume work. Lizzy then diverted the conversation into stories about The Tailor's eccentricities and had both Maeve and Darcy in tears, they were laughing so hard.
Chapter 17: I'll change these clothes if I want to and I do
Maeve was mass producing Georgian shirts as they talked and Darcy looked down to see that ¾s of the contents the bin was now categorized into several rows of beads.
As Darcy continued to sort, he was silent, brows knit, finally asking is "4-H that cult from the Victorian era? Richard and Charles said your family is really gung ho about 4-H. Is that like being Amish or something?*
Maeve and Lizzy laughed uproariously until each had to hold their sides. Lizzy took it upon herself to further the effect and say the 4-H pledge. "Now you're indoctrinated and you can't leave 'the cult!'" Darcy couldn't help but laugh along. "You really do think I'm a backwoods hick, don't you, you moron?"
Darcy shook his head. "Really I don't- you're talented and intelligent. It takes guts to come up with a new plan. All that and taking care of your sister, which shows how kind you are."
Lizzy stopped working and looked up. "Who told you about my plans and Jane?"
Darcy was focused on his bead sorting. "I've been around when Jane has told Charles about it."
"Busybody," Lizzy muttered. That was between her and Jane. Her sister knew it and didn't share their 'secret' willingly. He must have pried. That raised her hackles.
Darcy continued to patiently work on the beads. "I wanted to know more about you and Jane was eager to answer my questions. He stopped working and looked up, his eyes boring into her. First you told me I'm arrogant and think too much of my own opinions. When I take the trouble to find out more about you and show an interest, you criticize me. Why do you think the worst of me?"
" You are defensive around him," offered his faithful assistant.
"Dammit Maeve." Elizabeth gritted her teeth.
Darcy persisted. "Shall I remind you of-"
"NOT NOW!" Lizzy's body burned as she was in fact reminded of that time when her defenses were engendered against this man and then he so effectively and pleasurably dismantled them. "You have me in a bind, here."
Darcy barked a laugh. "I could say the same thing about you- can't do anything right, can I? You have me in a double bind. I could think of much better ways to be bound, I assure you-"
Lizzy broke in- "Yes, I know."
Maeve arched her brow interestedly. "You do? What kind of binding exactly?"
"Never mind, Maeve." Lizzy said through gritted teeth.
"I told you I was going to put my words to action. I have, haven't I?" Darcy asked.
Elizabeth asked, with reluctance, "How?"
He replied easily. "Going with dusty rose… suggesting to Ken that each designer take turns at facilitating a meeting… asking everyone for sketches so that I could use them in my pieces."
"That was a particularly good idea; have you seen them lately? It's all there- elements of Charles's sets, Lynn's lighting, _'s direction, _'s props, and YOUR costumes." Maeve added.
Darcy stopped working and emphasized his words. "The company doesn't exist to look down on you or sabotage your work. In fact, most people admire your work. Sure, people critique each other; You are in a collaborative field, after all- even when you go into business, it will involve critique and collaboration."
Maeve clicked her tongue. "He's right. I've been trying to tell her that but her artistic temperament."
Darcy cut in. "It's not about artistic temperament. It's about discipline and awareness."
Lizzy's voice grew hard. "Uh, I think I'm pretty dedicated to my work, don't go telling me I'm lazy."
Maeve walked over and put a reassuring hand on her charge. "Lizzy, Darcy, I- and hell, the whole production company- knows how prodigious you are and how beautiful your work is. But collaboration involves the discipline of believing in your own work enough to be open to what others say- and discerning when their criticism is crap and when they're right."
"That's true." Darcy had resumed his sorting but when she looked over at him, he caught her eye every time, like he felt her eyes on him. How could the man simultaneously work, cause trouble and know she was looking at him?
"You are SO patronizing sometimes."But Lizzy had little more to say in reply to their challenge. Her temper simmered as she worked in silence for a time. Maeve returned to her post to work.
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She and Darcy also lapsed into silence. Darcy finally said: "No one who had the pleasure of seeing your work, and working with you, could find your work wanting. Your talent doesn't take away from your relative newness to the field. I earned the authority I have, first, through making mistakes, and later by listening to others. I come off as officious because I've benefited from years of experience to become adept in the discipline of collaboration and seeing the big picture."
"That so many experienced people think well of your work, is the opposite: to your credit. You have the benefit of being nurtured by many who would see you succeed. I am the first on that list. Although I would like to give you the benefit of learning from my mistakes rather than making your own, I also respect your independence and support you regardless. The production is the production, but your career is more than that. Anyone who thinks a career hinges on one show or the opinion of one person is short sighted."
To this soliloquy, Maeve clapped, "hear hear. Lizzy, I wholeheartedly agree with Darcy. And you've seen my record to know what I stand for. You DO know that I would never give you any advice on matters close to your heart which could cause problems for myself?"
Her eyes sparkled when she emphasized heart. Lizzy blushed prettily at their encouragements, but remained silent. She was still torn between annoyance at Darcy's officiousness and his kindly spoken words. She knew – deeply knew- that Maeve was right- she wouldn't endorse or agree with Darcy if she mistrusted or disrespected him. Maeve wouldn't encourage Lizzy if it meant possible ruination for Lizzy's career or cause productivity issues for herself. But Maeve's words implied even more. Still, she did not speak.
During the course of the night, Darcy made pots of tea and coffee, fixing his two female companions cups to their specifications. He proved extremely useful for getting things off of high places, and he even gave Maeve a neck rub when she got a kink. Lizzy had considered asking for one too, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
She was still irritated that, despite herself, she noticed how thin his tee shirt was and wondered about the necklaces he wore. Now was not the time for a neck rub. She didn't want to also notice how strong his hands were, how nice his jeans fit…She almost succeeded in removing him from her thoughts.
As Darcy made his way to the bottom of the bin he discovered some old findings. "Look at these! These findings must be 100 years old! Is this hair inside this pin? Does that mean these beads are Jet?"
Maeve and Lizzy were drawn to what Darcy had found. Sure enough, he had discovered the secrets of this box. It had beads and accoutrements used to make mourning jewelry and other items. *
"I wonder whose this was? What a story this treasure must have." He commented.
"Treasure is always about- one only has to look." With a dimpled grin, Maeve looked back and forth at her two charges expectantly.
Lizzy quickly got back on topic. "Yes, my Aunt Phil has great fun- that is why she does so well at her business. It's her passion. She loves finding deserving homes for old things. That's why I love it too- because we make old clothes come to life."
The three spent the ensuing minutes in discussion about the pleasure of found objects. Maeve encouraged the impassioned conversation which was a buffer from earlier conflict. Lizzy relaxed again into introspection as she continued to work, eventually conceding that perhaps Darcy (and Maeve) were right. She could indeed participate with more openness in the collaborative process.
Conversation between herself and Darcy veered increasingly into numerous double entendres, causing Maeve to howl with laughter while Lizzy blushed at Darcy's flirtation.
When the laughter subsided, Maeve made a quiet excuse to go home for the night- something about coming to a stopping point. She suggested that Will finish his project and he agreed with enthusiasm.
* 4-H is (or was) an agrarian youth organization where kids take projects and learn about all different kinds of things from raising livestock, crops to making all kinds of food from scratch and sewing/stitching clothes to rocketry, photography, and IT.
*Jet was a stone symbolizing mourning in the Victorian era.
Chapter 18: Dress me in Scarlet, Ribbons and Bows
"I guess that leaves us," Lizzy's voice was tentative. She had a dress to finish and now felt a captive- to her work or her assistant, she couldn't say. The night's last remnants drew ever more slowly to a conclusion.
This simple dress was taking forever- each moment dragged, she was aware of every sound; pins scratching paper, scissors cutting fabric. Requiring a cup of tea, she asked if he wanted one, but he replied in the negative. She set the kettle on the burner waiting for a seeming eternity for it to heat up. The red burner glared at her in its resolute slowness.
Darcy was the elephant in the room. She couldn't help but look his way, wondering. She was compelled to converse but said nothing. How could he be so good looking?
She was a sucker for a man who would help out in the shop. It was quite sexy, really. His reluctance had been transformed into childlike enthusiasm for mysteries contained within the craft. Unlike Wickham, Darcy was respected by professionals around her. He also spent his time well, being solicitous of their needs during the night. Wickham lounged on the couch and told stories.
She sorted out, slowly, answers to her doubts. Maeve had been defending him this summer much to her chagrin, but Lizzy trusted Maeve's judgment. Maeve kept urging her to be more open, especially to Darcy. Tonight was no exception. Lizzy had been resisting Maeve's advice.
Why? Lizzy had to admit the struggle was formed by her own vanity. Maeve, who had no scruples to put pride in her work and her shop, was open to others' input. But only up to a point- if work suffered, if people suffered, Maeve put her foot down, albeit gently.
Her mentor never liked Cole. Cole who never helped out like this, who came in and distracted her from actual working. Maeve could have ejected him but she didn't. She let Lizzy make her own choices, simply reminding her that she had to get her projects done no matter how late she stayed in the shop. She knew Maeve wasn't happy with him but she was supportive through it all, letting her take time off for Jane, even when it meant extra work for herself.
Maeve had plenty of messy differences with her coworkers, including dealing with an extramarital affair between a student and a visiting director. Lizzy remembered how the director, her friend, came in to confide his woes. Maeve warned him repeatedly that honesty was the best policy. And yet, when the truth came out and the board threatened to fire them both, Maeve was the first to champion their personal lives as being separate from their work, which happened to be exceptional. The show had been sold out even on weeknights.
Maeve had clearly given her blessing to Lizzy and Darcy. She knew the man well and clearly respected him. It only meant one thing. She was silent, cutting the last few pieces, pinning them to a form, conscious of the fact that he, allowed the solitude to persist. She watched him for a few minutes, poking herself more than once as she pinned. She finally yielded to speech.
"You made quick work of those beads. Thank you. If it had been 'just an intern' or a student, they may have thrown away the findings. I'm glad you were here. I really don't want to talk about it anymore but I realized you and Maeve are right- about a lot of things. I am going to work on what you guys suggested. I realized I've benefited greatly from being open- first to Maeve and the Tailor. But more than them, I've benefited from being open to you. It's done something to me I can't describe."
He was suddenly standing inches from Lizzy, in her seated position on the high patterning table. With him before her, Lizzy imagined him taking her on this table- it was such a convenient height. His breathing became labored and his eyes raked over her body. "It's all been my pleasure. I love being here."
"This is a pretty great place," Lizzy laughed nervously. Opening required a slowness of process, not hurling oneself into that great expanse with great abandon.
Darcy said in a breathless, deep whisper. "It's because of you."
She knew what he was doing. She wanted this and yet she couldn't let her work here lapse if she was going to be with him. That was the point of Maeve's blessing. "The feeling is mutual, and, as much as I'd love to spend more time with you, I need to finish my work." Lizzy spoke carefully re loaded the multiple strands of antique beads into the tote.
Darcy muttered that he wasn't sure why he'd gone to all that work, now, if she was going to just put them back. As she continued to struggle with the tote, he said, At least let me help you put that heavy tote where it belongs.
She waved him off. "No, Kent is probably upstairs and you can finally get his approval on your work, I wouldn't want to waste your time."
"Well, then I'm going to go back upstairs if you no longer need my services." If she had looked up, Lizzy would have seen his intent, beetled stare.
"Sure,"she at his finally leaving the shop, she checked to see the kettle was taking its usual sweet time in whistling and grabbed her beaded 'chatelaine' with its snip case, I-phone holder and keys in her hand, all the while struggling to keep hold of the heavy open tote while opening double doors to the 'dead zone', the hallway that ended in another set of doors to the green room and backstage.
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As the door slammed behind her Lizzy was shocked by a seeming immovable barrier that had inexplicably erected itself in front of her. "OOOF!"Said the barrier and herself simultaneously as her chatelaine and beads tumbled out of her grasp and onto the floor.
"Shit!" Said she.
"What's wrong?" Said the impenetrable barrier.
"Sonofabitch now I can't find my chatelaine,* Darcy."
"I'd be happy to help you find it," he flirted. "Especially if involves what I think it does."
"You mean crawling around on the floor in the dark trying to hurry before that blasted kettle goes off and that old burner starts a fire?"
"I don't think a chatelaine is what I thought it was…."
"What were you doing creeping around in the dark, anyway?"
"I could ask the same of you especially when I was very gentlemanly and offered to carry that thing. What business do you have carrying something so heavy when you clearly couldn't hold on to it?"
"Well your officiousness is especially gentlemanly. Thanks for pointing it out. And even more useful to me for crawling around on the floor to find my keys. I don't suppose you have keys or a phone."
"Why would I have keys or a phone when I can keep them down in the costume shop since you're still in there?"
"Because, dumbass, this hallway is always locked on both ends."
"You mean this hallway is completely locked?"
"Completely. Always. It's a security measure."
"In what possible way is it a security measure?"
"Well we're locked out, aren't we?"
"It would seem so. Either my keys went flying or the beads are tangled up in this mess that landed on the floor." How could her beloved chatelaine be so hard to find? It had to be all those stupid bits and baubles that were hanging from the beads. She was beginning to question the decision to keep them all together in the tote.
Lizzy would never tell him but she was seriously starting to panic. She knew it was a matter of time before that ancient burner burned the costume shop to the ground. It would be all his fault, Darcy and his stupid muscular body getting in her way. She grasped strands in the dark trying to feel the distinctive cases she'd made with such care, willing them into her grasp in vain.
Darcy grabbed her shoulders in the dark with the ease of a predator with nightvision. "Calm down. I helped you sort these once and I'll help again. Why don't we start re loading things we sort back into the tote so we know what we've checked?"
"Ok."
That was the easiest she'd ever agreed to one of his suggestions since they'd…Elizabeth could no longer resist the direction of her thoughts as she felt his hand brush against her, could smell his intoxicating scent and hear his breath.
She wondered if it would be too obvious if she brushed against a certain area…Lizzy continued to be occupied in this attitude, searching the floor on her knees while half listening for a kettle that never went off.
Darcy chivalrously suggested that he should crawl around on his hands and knees in the 12 foot square space and feel around for any stray beads. As he made his way around the small space, Darcy told her he only felt hard linoleum and then his head knocked into something else that was hard.
So, the theatre that I'm referencing had a door to the roof that a friend shared with me one time. It didn't lead to what Lizzy and Darcy get up to, though, not that kind of friend, and those were more innocent days... I'll just leave that clue there for you to anticipate more action.
I doubt I will get to another post this weekend, but maybe during the week if I get some comments. Thanks as always to my most faithful commenter loveinthebattlefield.
-W