Lizzy’s Secret Christmas Wishes #2
Jane’s room was already dark when Elizabeth entered their rental apartment. Knowing Jane was a light sleeper, Elizabeth opened her own bedroom door quietly and tossed her bag and blazer onto the carpet beside her bed before going to the kitchen.
She retrieved a bowl of chicken soup and dumplings wrapped in plastic from the fridge and then placed it in the microwave. Her gaze turned vacant as she stared at the yellow glow from the microwave, watching her meal heated up.
The conversation with Darcy earlier brought back memories of their meetings almost a year ago.
Their first meeting was at a movie night event at the public park near her best friend Charlotte Lucas’s family house.
The park was filled with people lounging on colorful picnic blankets.
Elizabeth sat with Jane and Charlotte on a large patchwork pattern picnic blanket.
Nearby, her parents and sisters occupied another large picnic blanket, arranged in a half-circle with two big buckets of fried chicken and a rattan basket filled with various pressed sandwiches in the middle.
“Lizzy. Charlotte.”
Elizabeth turned to see a rather bald, stout, middle-aged man waving at them. It was Mr. Lucas, Charlotte’s dad. She waved back at him, noticing two unfamiliar men behind him.
“Who are the men with your dad?” she asked Charlotte while watching the men navigate through clusters of people and their picnic blankets.
“Oh, the blond man is Charles Bingley, my dad’s client. The brunet one must be his friend because I remembered Charles mentioned that his best friend also wants to find a house nearby,” Charlotte answered.
“Did your dad already find him a house?” Elizabeth asked. Mr. Lucas was a renowned realtor agent in the area, and Charlotte helped manage his business.
“Yes, a rental house at Netherfield Park. He’s planned to move down here, but he decided to rent a house first before buying,” Charlotte said.
“The brunet man looks so serious. Look at the crease on his forehead. I bet my pen will fit on it,” Elizabeth commented, waving her blue pen.
“Hold your sharp tongue, Eliza,” Charlotte chuckled lightly. “Psst, they are coming.”
“What a good spot, Charlotte,” Mr. Lucas commented as he grunted, sitting on the blanket. “Although it’s tough for your papa to weave through people.”
“I’ll keep that in mind and give you a spot further away from the screen next time,” Charlotte teased him and turned to the men who stood awkwardly. “Please, have a seat.” She gestured toward the blankets.
“Yes, please. We have enough room,” Mrs. Bennet chimed in, tapping the empty spot beside her. Her face was curious.
“Thanks, you’re so kind,” said the blond man, smiling as he sat. His friend followed suit. Elizabeth shook her head slightly, amused by how awkwardly he sat on the ground.
Mr. Lucas turned to Charles and his friend.
“You’ve known my daughter, Charlotte. These are our friends, the Bennets.
This is Elizabeth, Charlotte’s best friend.
This is Jane, her older sister. This is their mother, Mrs. Bennet, and Mary, their younger sister, and.
..” He paused, his eyebrows furrowing as he glanced toward Lydia and Kitty, chatting and giggling with the college boys on the neighboring blanket.
With a wave of his hand, he added, “And um, these are the other younger sisters, Kitty and Lydia.”
Then he waved to the men. “Everyone, this is Charles Bingley-”
“Call me Charlie,” the blond man interjected, smiling as he extended his hand to shake Jane’s.
“And this is his best friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy. And what would you like to be called?” Mr. Lucas asked politely.
“Darcy,” he answered shortly, reaching out to shake Elizabeth’s hand.
“Though I call him Will,” Charlie grinned at his joke.
After the pleasantries, Elizabeth decided that she liked Charlie for his easy-going manner, but not so much Darcy. His expression seemed perpetually sour, as if he had just sucked on sour candy.
“Charlie will open a new bookstore near the shopping mall on First Street,” Mr. Lucas commented before turning to Jane. “Is that near the kindergarten you established with your friends last year, Jane?”
“Yes,” Jane answered, turning to Charlie. “It might not be the best time to ask, but do you have any discount program for schools?”
“Yes, we work closely with libraries and schools. Let me give you my business card and personal number.” Charlie took out one from his wallet and looked around. “Does anyone have a pen?”
“We’re about to watch a movie; no one brought a pen,” Mrs. Bennet remarked.
“You forget Lizzy, Mama,” corrected Jane, smiling at Elizabeth, who had already handed her pen to Charlie. “As a journalist, she likes to carry a pen and a notebook, right, Liz?”
Elizabeth smirked and nodded as she watched Charlie write down something on the back of the card before giving it to Jane.
“Don’t you think you should use a recorder to take notes? Using a pen and a notebook is old-school,” chimed in Darcy.
Elizabeth detected a patronizing tone in his voice and disliked it. With a smile, she nodded. “Yes, that’s old school. But what’s wrong with that?”
All heads turned to her, then back to Darcy.
“Nothing wrong, just that it’s not efficient. Besides, it will take longer to write than to record,” he responded.
“Efficiency isn’t everything. Besides, writing things down helps me remember and understand better,” Elizabeth remarked defiantly. She noticed disapproval in Darcy’s eyes, but she didn’t care much.
That day marked her first meeting with Darcy.
They crossed paths again on several occasions: at Mr. Lucas’s birthday celebration, at a city street fair held at Netherfield, and at the second office opening of Lucas Realty.
Jane’s school received a significant book donation from Charlie, so they met again at the school’s first anniversary and later at the grand opening of Charlie’s bookstore.
Despite exchanging polite pleasantries, she didn’t interact much with Darcy. However, she found it odd when he praised her for the cupcakes she baked for the school anniversary and the flower bouquet she arranged for the grand opening.
Their last encounter was at the Labor Day party in Charlie’s rental house.
Elizabeth admired the house but had to bite her tongue as she watched her mom and her two younger sisters gawk at luxury furniture and paintings. Mary, an avid piano player, drooled over the Steinway Grand Piano and was about to open the key cover when her dad caught her and stopped her.
Holding a plate, she began to take food from the long table in front of her when someone spoke behind her. “You should try the brisket. That’s Charlie’s signature.”
She turned to see Darcy smile at her. She smiled back and said, “I didn’t know he liked barbecuing.”
“That guy has many hidden talents,” Darcy chuckled, filling his plate. “Do you mind to eat together there?” He pointed to the long bench near the pond.
“Sure,” she answered. Despite her reservations about Darcy, she was curious about him.
“How about you? Any hidden talents you have?” asked Elizabeth as they sat beside each other.
“I like watercolor painting,” Darcy answered.
“Wow, I’ve heard watercolor painting isn’t easy,” Elizabeth said amazedly.
“It isn’t,” Darcy agreed. “But I like it because it calms me and helps me think clearly.”
“You should show me one day,” she remarked lightly.
Darcy’s eyes lit up. “Sure. I’ll show you after eating.”
As promised, later, Darcy showed her his paintings.
“Wow, you are so talented,” Elizabeth remarked, running her fingers over a painting of a field covered with yellow poppies. “I like this one.”
“You can have it.”
She looked at him, chuckling. “No, no… I…”
“I’m serious. You can have it,” Darcy said, gazing at her.
“I-” she stopped, her stomach quivering as she noticed the intensity in his eyes.
“Elizabeth,” Darcy called, taking a step closer to her.
“I’ve been thinking about you lately. I know I shouldn’t have, but the more I try to forget, the stronger my feelings for you become.
Although I have to admit that the differences between our families are significant, I can’t deny that I have fallen for you. ”
Elizabeth straightened her back, her fingers curled. “What do you mean by ‘the differences between our families are significant’?” she asked, controlling her trembling voice.
“It’s about our backgrounds, our upbringings- they are worlds apart.
Your lively younger sisters and their interactions with men, and your mother who tends to approach every young man for her daughters, are things I never imagined my own mother could have done,” Darcy stopped, taking a deep breath.
“I’ll learn to ignore the differences, and I-”
“How dare you talk about my family like that?” Elizabeth snapped. “We may not be as wealthy as you, but it’s not your place to judge my family. You’ve crossed the line Darcy!”
“So, you’re rejecting me?” he asked.
“What did you expect?” Elizabeth screamed, storming away, leaving him alone.
Those were the last words she said to him and the last time she saw him. Who knew she would meet him again a few months later? Ironically, she now worked in his company.
The microwave beep brought her back. The soup smelled good, but Elizabeth had lost her appetite.
***
The next day, Elizabeth arrived late to her office because she had an interview with a few yoga teachers for her upcoming assignment on using yoga for winter wellness and survival.
She was about to access her computer when Richard, her editor, approached her desk with a stack of papers in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. His face lit up with excitement as he approached.
“Lizzy,” he called out, waving the papers vigorously. His gray eyes sparkled behind his geometric glasses. “Chief approved your article on ‘Mistletoe Magic for Christmas’ to be considered for our quarterly award for the best article of the month.”