I never got any chance to think about me and Aidan. I sneaked out of his insultingly large apartment at the break of dawn before he could wake up. I thought about stopping and ask for his number but a part of me wanted to get out of there as if it sensed something bad about to happen. It was a ridiculously stupid feeling; furthermore the proof that I probably don't deserve good things.
I thought about calling someone, maybe Jane or dad, but I couldn't bring myself to. I was a bit embarrassed maybe. I thought I'll break down crying to either of them.
The job was as good as the minimum wage would allow it to be. And this is me talking about it with the benefit of hindsight (when I, the author of this rambling tale knows what is to happen); in the actual lived reality of the experience, the winter in LA was just like everything else in LA is: hazy and unrelenting.
When your present is sordid and disappointing, everything about the past seems better just by comparison. I ended up having nostalgia for snowy cold Beardsley winters. But what baffled me most was how much of it was about Darcy. I felt this awful churning in me. I left that life for a reason didn't I? Why else would I take such a big step in such a haphazard way? I knew it won't be rainbows here, I knew it would suck. If anything I thought I was taking it well, the almost abandoned office building, the uninterested producer, the lecherous executive producer. The mormon writer from Utah with a Madonna-Whore complex. The lazy assistant who forgot the sugar in my coffee; not that it would have been an improvement over the sewage water masquerading as espresso. The horrid public transport of LA, the scam artists and regular artists trotting the streets, the woman pissing on the pavement; everything I am taking well. Then comes Aidan, major dreamboat, the prince who can literally sweep me off my feet without taking my shoes off and all I can think of is the isolation and loneliness of Frank Darcy? What is it that I need? What is it that I even want? Will I ever be happy?
At lunch break a few days later, Jane called.
"I don't care who you are mad at now but it is important to tell you that mum and dad's divorce proceedings has started" I heard her voice with impeccable restraint.
"Are you home?" I asked after a short pause. "Yes, I'll have to be" she said sighing. "You shouldn't have stormed out like the way you did Liz" she said as her voice broke a bit.
"I'm not very proud of it Jane" I said in a low voice taking a cigarette out from my pocket.
"You should have called someone" he said choking on tears.
"I know Jane, I am sorry" I said. "I almost forgot that I had Emily's number, I was thinking of hunting you down in LA otherwise" she said as she sharply sniffed.
"So what will happen to mum and dad now?" I asked just as I lit the cigarette.
"We're yet to see. Mum has some ownership in the firm and all so that would make it all sticky" she said. "Your old classmate Aidan is here to advise dad about what to do next with finances" Jane added. I felt a sweet rush in my stomach, but before I could say anything, "well, more like his firm is. You know, the one by Frank Darcy" jane added even more carelessly.
"Anyways, I heard you're working under Castor Troy!" Jane said with as much glee she could add while tears still filled her voice.
"Jane I have to tell you something" I started. I didn't think it through as I glanced at the wall clock to see that the break was over.
"what?" she asked.
"I'll call you after work. It is a long story and I need to tell it to someone" I said as I put the cigarette out in my ashtray.
"Wait, Lizzie, I….." I heard her voice trail off as I hung up to collect my scraps of unoriginal ideas to spew out in the table read.
I called her almost 9 times after work. Two or three times I was routed to her German assistant. Three times she just didn't answer and the last time it was turned off, that was also when I gave up. I knew I was too late now. It doesn't work that way. How can I be so selfish and immature about my feelings? When I had the opportunity I didn't say anything to anyone, and now when we are as apart as people can be, I expect her to be there. She already has enough on her plate; in fact, it is almost like she doesn't even have a plate. She is quite possibly juggling her way through these times. And all I could do was run away from everything. Why do I think I even deserve help? From anyone? I spent the entire evening in front of the TV streaming some run-of-the-mill documentary about an obscure person who at the time was considered interesting enough to be made into a documentary. I don't remember after how many glasses of wine I fell asleep, or passed out, on the couch. But I do remember waking up by the aggressive and impatient sound of the door bell. I saw the TV which was now showing a bald man whispering something about imaginary unicorns to the camera. I turned it off. It was 5 in the morning.
I went to open the door wondering if Emily lost her set of the keys. I didn't expect Jane standing there, with her rugged mascara and disheveled hair. The moment we registered each other's presence, she heaved herself upon me letting out a loud wait of cry. And in that moment I felt like enough buttons were pushed as I wrapped my arms around her oversized handbag and breathed a relaxing cry.
I didn't even have to ask her why she flew all the way to here. I didn't care if it was because of what I said on call yesterday. For the first time in my life I was just glad she was here in person.
She in true Jane fashion helped herself to the kitchen and made two large mugs of coffee. Despite the torturous hangover, I enjoyed the sounds of that morning.
"When did it all happened?" I asked peeping into my mug.
"I would say soon after you left" she replied. "It was quite inconvenient"
"What was?" I asked.
"Well…" Jane said, "Everything" drawing a deep breath. "Their marriage was in tatters already. It is ironic that it was just for convenience's sake till now. But it was hurting everyone involved".
"So, what now?" I asked.
"What do you mean?" "How will it all go down now?" I asserted.
"The paperwork would be mind numbing as fuck" she said drawing a sigh. "The financial situation with mother as a stakeholder is particularly frustrating".
I took a cigarette out from my purse that was lying near the coffee table. Almost instinctively Jane picked up an ashtray from the cabinet by the wall and handed it to me all the while still calculating the trajectory of the events.
"I think you need to be there a few things, Some paperwork that you need to sign. Don't worry I'll explain it all." she added as she settled besides me on the sofa.
"In Beardsley?" I asked.
"Boston" she said, taken aback a bit.
I nodded as it made a bit sense but soon noticed Jane drifting away in another thought. I didn't ask what was bothering, I wanted to give her some time.
"Dad is selling the Beardsley estate" she said.
There was a moment of silence between us as she looked at me.
"You're kidding?" I exclaimed.
"Why would I be kidding about it?" she said, a bit hurt presumably.
"What about dad?" I asked, "and what about mother?".
Jane suddenly had a solemn look on her face. Her generally warm generous features now turned into icy stone as her deep blue eyes pierced through me.
"Now you care? For a month Lizzie you hole up in the other side of the country and not even try to reach out any goddamn fucking living soul and now you're pretending like you care?" she slithered out in a way I forgot she could.
"I am not on vacation here Jane" I implored trying to stay calm. "I am trying to figure things out myself here"
"Lizzie, no matter how much sappy sad things you say while chain smoking, that would not justify your actions, okay?" she stood up slowly as her voice raised with her. I stared at her through the puff of smoke trying to register this moment. I put out my cigarette and stood up.
"What actions?" I asked slowly, "What have I ever done to anyone?"
"That is the problem Lizzie, you have never done anything" she said as she towered over my entire being. "When was the last time you made any, ANY effort in any of the relationships you have had? Tell me? I am not talking about mother or anyone else here. You didn't even call me once Lizzie after storming out of the home like that. It is not about me here before you go on accuse me of 'burdening' you with emotions. You really think you can do it all on your own? I don't care if I could have helped you here or not but I could have been there for you as you could have for me. Have you ever thought about that? Have you ever een thought about making that effort for anyone?" she was practically screaming.
"You know me Jane, I…" I started to stutter as her impatience gave way and she swayed around her arms helplessly.
"Honestly, Lizzie, I don't anymore" she darted those words at me. "I have not known you in a very long time. And like an idiot I always line up before you so that at least I can do my part as a sister but you don't care about anything else. Don't think that I don't know how depressed you are, Lizzie. I am not here to guilt you into anything. All I ever expected was the bare minimum. I am walking on eggshells here trying to make sure that people don't do to you what they have been doing to me." Her voice started to crack as she turned around and stuffed her face in her long bony hands. I collapsed back on the sofa. She did the same while muffling her wails from behind her hands.
I held my forehead in hands, slouching over. It felt like someone was rubbing hot wire through my brain. I didn't know what to say, or do. I knew I needed to do something, something pointless and inconsequential. The mess of drawing room felt like the rubbles of my life. Everyone that ever mattered to me left dusted with the remains of a long gone happy time. I felt completely paralyzed. But then, literally out of nowhere, the memory of me holding Darcy's face in my hands rushed past my consciousness for a split second, his pained expression and his deep eyes.
I got up and brought Jane a glass of water. She looked at me through the mist of her tears for a second and held the glass with both hands and sipped on it like a little child.
I sat defeated besides her as she took a couple of minutes to empty the entire glass.
"Dad will move to Boston, mother is moving to Milan with her boyfriend" she said with a quivering voice. "The thing will take a few months, 7-8 if we're lucky." She added. "For God's sake, call dad" she said as the quiver started to get strong again.
"I will" I said meekly as I felt my own throat getting heavy now.
"It might not mean much to you right now Jane" I started slowly, "but I am really sorry for everything. I thought I was trying but I wasn't. I was being a bitch in all senses".
"You need to know that anything you need me for I am going to be there" she added emphatically, "this divorce is not breaking news to me, there was always just the two of us, ever since we were kids"
"I still need a bit time Jane, to get out of this emotional state" I said as I gazed at the floor with tears welling up my eyes.
She instantly hugged me tightly. "Take all the time you need in the world, Lizzie. It's okay. It happens to the best of us."
"Let's go for some breakfast?" I asked as she emerged from the bathroom after washing her face.
"I'm really sorry Lizzie but I need to be in Boston tonight" she said with a pained expression.
"Oh, it's okay. You can make a pit stop here whenever you want" I said, "my job isn't that busy. It's a wonder I'm even getting paid here" I sniggered.
"Have you applied to other places?" she asked.
"Yeah, some newspapers and magazines. Might get something after this holiday season" I replied picking up some litter off the floor.
"Oh you will don't worry" she said with that warm smile, "just keep hoping and keep doing your best".
"And please positively call dad, today" she said while turning around at the door.
"I will…" I suddenly remembered something, "hey, wait a minute! I didn't even ask about Bingley! How is he?"
Jane stopped dead in her way and turned around slowly. She was smiling sadly.
"I'm so sorry, I should have told you before. This divorce settlement might as well just kill me someday." She mumbled, "John and I broke up, Lizzie".
Before I could say anything an old woman got out of a door besides me with her 6 cats and fumbled with her front door lock for 5 whole minutes. I kept waiting for her to move along but she wouldn't budge.
"It was nothing, don't worry about it at all" she assured me quietly and patted my shoulders, "We'll talk about it later, it's a long story".
She swiftly turned around and went away towards the stairs. She and the old cat woman shared a warm greeting and I stood standing there, leaning on the doorway with my arms locked as her car sped through the late morning traffic rush, honking violently.
