I sit in front of my laptop with a blank document staring back at me mockingly. My creativity was suffering from a writer's block instigated by almost 2 weeks of no-sex that I was having. My ego was now beginning to hide behind my body whose physical need was overpowering any sense of self-worth that was left in me. I picked up my phone again for the 24th time in the past hour and opened the conversation again. "How about you fuck yourself?" the text read at 9:45 PM on October 31st. my heart sank further into desolation. Should I call him? Why hasn't he replied? I guess it was finally time I said good bye to that nice big thick….
"Lizzie grab your coat we're going shopping", Jane entered my room. "What for?" I asked while shutting down my laptop. "For your birthday party. Don't you remember?" she said smiling sweetly.
I almost forgot about the darn party! I silently cursed myself. It was one of those years when I was having a birthday party in the sprawling lawns of the Bennet estate which actually had an ulterior motive behind it; considering how it usually have the least amount of people I actually know. The last time it happened it was my 16th, which my mother utilized to its full extent to impress the partners of dad's firm. It worked; his contract was negotiated the very next spring. But I don't exactly resent it, dad and Jane took me out for some ice-cream after that droll affair and gifted me a copy of Mary Wollstonecraft's "A Vindication of the Rights of Woman" ; a book my dad considers instrumental in the education of young girls. He's a sweet, cute guy like that, what else can I say.
This year, my 23rd birthday party was a lavish cover to get John Bingley, hot-shot LA producer to attend a party at the Bennets, so that he can spend as much time as he (or the hostess' mother) wants with Jane. And I wasn't the sweet little girl I used to be 7 years back. I am a miserable, lonely, sexually frustrated almost-23 year old woman suffering from a serious case of writer's block. There are very few things that can uplift my spirits.
"We need to buy you a dress" said Jane as we descended down the stairs of the main hall of the Bennet's estate i.e. my parent's lavish bungalow. "Are we going to go to Fiorello's for that?" I asked Jane. "He's the best Lizzie" Jane said as she fished out her car keys from her purse.
"I'm agreeing only because his shop is near my library and you can drop me off afterwards" I said while seating myself besides her.
"Come on Lizzie! He is really good. I've been going there for so long. Don't you remember my prom dress?" she asked as she pulled out of the driveway.
"Yes I do remember, along with the way the nice Italian roasted my butt off" I said remembering that awful time when I used to be less miserable and fatter.
"That was a very long time ago." She said apologetically.
We were lead into a hall with rows and rows of dresses and gowns hanging on fancy hangers and walls lined with tall mirrors. Just as I was about to seat myself on the low-sofas, I heard some rapid footsteps and some equally rapid talking.
With the lapse of a few seconds, a lanky, tall man with salt-and-pepper beard and thick-rimmed glasses entered the room with his eyes fixed on Jane sparkling bright and arms already raised to embrace.
"Jane!" Fiorello exclaimed while he hugged her. "Where have you been? It has been so long! "
"Just working" Jane replied with her usual sweetness. I came a bit closer to her as Fiorello fixed his eyes at me now with confusion. "I'm sure you remember my sister Elizabeth" Jane said as she gestured towards me.
"Impossible!" Fiorello shouted. It almost startled me. "Is that you Lizzie?" he said with his confusion now changing into surprise.
"You have to tell me what you did sweetie!" he said to me. It was weird seeing him talk to me like that considering how he talked to me back when I used to be a hefty 12-year old with pimples and braces. For the first time in my life I noticed how differently people can perceive you if you really do look a particular way. "What plan did you follow?" he asked with a mischievous smile.
"Well it was nothing" I said smiling back, "Just a regular dose of depression and some few generous helpings of 16 different types of eating disorders and you too can get your ego stroked by complete strangers" I heard my own self saying these words.
The expressions of Fiorello's face were hilariously transfixed as Jane giggled nervously. "Oh she has always been funny like that. She was always into dark humour" she said desperately. Fiorello laughed and looked at me intently for a while. "Yep, just like her father, except for the British accent of course" he said taking a moment to compose himself.
Jane commanded Fiorello in her usual gentle way about the kind of dress she has in mind for my birthday and he went away into an adjoining room to look for something. I don't know if it was all those mirrors or the beautiful women shopping in the hall but I felt severely claustrophobic. I searched for a window around and spotted one near a mannequin wearing a flowy pink gown. I went there and opened it a bit and took out my packet of cigarettes. As I lit one and took a couple drags I saw Jane come near me from the corner of my eyes. Even though I was not looking at her eyes, I knew exactly what Jane was thinking, which is why I kind of hoped to avoid them.
"What was all that about?" Jane asked, laughing again nervously. "Nothing" I replied, gluing my eyes outside, into the parking lot.
"Lizzie, can I ask you something?" there it was, the serious yet gentle Jane, who is too sweet to avoid and/or lie to. I braved myself and looked at her.
"Is there something you want to talk to me about?" she said with her big blue eyes filled with genuine care and concern. Tell her Liz, tell her about Darcy. Tell her she won't judge. She is your sister, she actually cares about you. You HAVE to talk about it to somebody Liz, you can't keep it to yourself like this. You don't have to be so harsh on yourself. Tell her….
"Jane, I -" I started to say when Fiorello screamed Jane's name while looking around. He spotted the two of us by the window and also the cigarette in my hands. He came smiling rigidly towards us holding a gold mini-dress and said ""Lizzie, honey I know you have gotten very sexy underneath that drab sweater of yours but I hope you don't mind putting that out and shutting the window please? And do come here I have got the most marvelous dress that is going to make you the star of your birthday party!"
Jane dropped me off at the library after a quick little meal where my wuss self wasn't able to gather the courage to talk to her about my life. As if I wasn't sexually frustrated enough, I was now somewhat disappointed in myself too. As I entered my office Red, my assistant came rushing in saying, "There is a gentleman out there who wishes to donate some books, he has been waiting for almost 30 minutes. Should I send him here or are you going to go to the counter?" he asked while he handed me my mug of re-heated coffee.
"No I'll go to the counter" I said while I took the mug, "bring me the receipt book for donations" I said as I picked up a couple of files from my desk that I thought I will clear from the counter. I was late already and there was no time left for my paperwork. Charlotte is going to kill me.
I absent-mindedly walked towards the counter while my eyes were glued to the file. I glanced at the man standing and he had a huge stack of books on the counter in front of him. I saw the paid bills that were yet to be filed by me and took absolutely no notice of the man as I took my place behind the counter.
"So do you want the donation to be anonymous or under the name of an institution?" I asked as I was turning on my computer. I raised the mug up to my lips to take a sip.
"Whatever gets me a conversation with the librarian" I heard a familiar voice speak with a grin. I looked up and accidentally swallowed too big a sip of the cheap coffee. It was Frank Darcy, all 6 feet 2 inches of him standing behind my counter smiling at me in that menacing way he did.
The few moments that my tongue was tied were fortunately over as Red came and handed me the receipt book. As I waited for him to go away at a safer distance, Darcy looked at me with that amused expression and pleasant smile.
"What do you think you are doing here?" I asked as I banged my mug down in front of my computer.
"I am here to donate some of my brother's books to the Library of Beardsley" he said without losing that smile as he gestured towards the stack. I picked up the book on top of it. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. His brother has taste.
We looked at each other for a few moments. It was a game that I did not wanted to lose. He has to realize his own mistake. Let me give it my everything.
"What was the text about that day?" yes! HE caved in! finally!
"What do you mean?" I asked without losing eye contact. Yes Liz, hold your ground.
He gave me a "you-know-what-I'm-talking-about" look. He then sighed deeply and lowered his voice. "Listen" he said as he looked down. Am I winning?
"I won't ask you again, you need to tell me what was it that I did that offended you. I don't want to play anymore games. We need to talk about it like adults" he said with a stern expression on his face.
"Oh, like adults? Not like, some plain small town idiot who doesn't know shit about anything?" I asked almost quivering with anger.
I saw his expression change, but not into something I expected. He had a lesser-version of that amused grin as he asked, "Are you spying on me or what?" while he leaned a bit forward.
My starved body was beginning to react to those moves of his but I whipped myself up. I stood straight as I asked, "So you don't deny that you said that about me?"
"No, your honor, I don't" he said as he slowly leaned forward a bit more. His gaze went deep into the reaches of my very soul as I felt like I was about to burst into, well, something. I was beginning to lose my hold.
"Why did you say that?" whatever sane part of me that was left asked.
"To be honest, I didn't mean it. And I do wish I hadn't said that. I don't know if it means anything, but I'm sorry" he said as he looked down at the counter for a second and back at me, now with that full grin of his.
What? I was not expecting it to be that easy. What do I do now? Ask him to meet you at 9 and get a series of orgasms, my body was practically screaming. It wouldn't have mattered even if he wasn't sorry. Just have some nice sex with him and don't worry about what he does or doesn't think about you. The last thing you want right now is to make someone fall in love with you. Or worse, fall in love with someone.
"Am I forgiven or what?" he said standing straight, pretending as if nothing just happened. I know he was looking at me to see if what he did made any affect on me.
"Maybe" I said. "But I think we should talk about it over dinner".
"Talk about what?" he asked a bit confused.
For some reason, I thought about Jane, her voice.
"About boundaries" I said as I started to go through the stack of books in front of me.
