Compulsively Mr. Darcy (19 page)

“Dr. Elizabeth Bennet.” He massaged his neck and blinked rapidly to dispel the circling stars.

“Why?”

“May I get up? I swear I'm harmless. You have a gun,” he reminded her.

“Just turn around,” she ordered and poked the gun against his back. “Now, tell me why you need to see Dr. Elizabeth Bennet?”

“It's personal,” he said. The gun pressed harder into his back. “Look, I've come all the way from New York to talk to her. I swear I'm not here to harm her.”

“Are you the asshole who hurt her in New York?”

The
crazy
relative
on
the
phone!
“No, that was my cousin. No, no! I mean they were engaged, but he didn't hurt her. It was a misunderstanding. That's why I'm here, to clear it up.”

“Then why did she call me crying, saying she didn't want to go home to him, she didn't want to see him?”

He pivoted. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. A tiny woman stood in front of him holding a stick. A stick? She didn't reach higher than his armpit in height. Her eyes were huge though, almost too large for her small, gamine face. He blinked rapidly again, this time trying to dispel the strange fear this anime-ninja girl gave him. “It was my fault. I might have said things that she misunderstood.”

She tapped the stick against one palm, looking as if she'd welcome another chance to knock him down.

“I just want to talk to her. You can be there if you want.” His voice betrayed a tiny quiver. He glanced around to see if she had help. No one else around. He couldn't believe this tiny thing was the ninja that had flattened him.

“She's not here.”

“Do you know where she is?” He hoped Elizabeth hadn't gone to Darfur again or to some other godforsaken place. “I need to talk to her, just for a few minutes. Even on the phone is fine.”

“Give me your name and phone number and I'll tell her you stopped by. She's busy with the wedding.”

“A wedding? Her wedding?”

“Perhaps.” She crossed her arms. “I'm not saying anything else except it's none of your business.”

Richard was frustrated, but he didn't have any choice. The finality of her voice and manner told him it wouldn't work trying to persuade her otherwise. He gave his number and left.

***

A week later, not hearing from Elizabeth, Richard tried calling again and discovered his number had been blocked. He gave up. Time for him to focus on getting Darcy to move on with his life. Elizabeth obviously had.

Richard needed Bingley's help. Except for that brief phone call inviting them to his sister Caroline's wedding, Bingley had not kept in touch. He called Bingley's emergency contact number and left a message.

“Where have you been, man?” Richard asked when Bingley finally returned his call. “And what the hell have you been doing all this time?”

“I'm in Zambia.” Bingley's voice was cheerful. “I've been building playgrounds and teaching AIDS orphans. I wanted to do something with my life. It's been a great experience. You should try it.”

Richard shuddered. Definitely something bad in the water in Vietnam, he decided. He briefly described what had happened with Darcy. “He's in even worse shape now than before Vietnam.”

“I can't believe Elizabeth is marrying someone else already. Are you sure? That's a fast rebound. They were so into each other. I had a hard time getting him to leave Vietnam,” Bingley said. “That's too bad. He needs some distraction. Are you guys coming to Caroline's wedding? She's marrying a plastic surgeon she met recently.”

“Darcy's not keen on attending, but I'll drag him there. If the groom's a plastic surgeon, maybe there'll be beautiful women there for Darcy to have his own rebound fling with,” Richard said. “Do you know much about the guy?”

“Nope,” replied Charles. “Since he's brave enough to marry my sister, I don't want to discourage him by asking any questions.”

“Do you see what your problem is here?” the man on the left asked, looking straight at Elizabeth.

She hesitated then shook her head.

“Well, let me tell you. You need to get your lazy ass off your parents' couch and do something with your life. You're almost thirty, for God's sake.”

Feeling ashamed, Elizabeth's eyes started to water.

“Now don't go teary eyed on me and use your troubled past as an excuse. You're smart—too smart for your own good. You can do so much more for yourself and for those less fortunate in the world. But you're lazy, that's your problem.”

“But I don't feel good. I'm tired, so tired all the time now,” she whispered, looking away from Dr. Phil's penetrating eyes. “I can't keep anything down.”

“Don't tell me about not having energy. You're going to sit and wait for someone to rescue you. Your knight in shining armor with a bag full of coins, perhaps?”

The dark-haired woman sitting on Dr. Phil's left leaned forward. “Honey, if you think you can avoid hard work by marrying money, let me tell you, you're gonna be working hard for it anyhow in the marriage.”

Fighting tears, Elizabeth protested, “But I don't want to marry him for his money. I want him, just him. I love him. But he was doubly-fiancéed!” She sobbed into her hands and heard someone else crying loudly also. A click. The crying stopped.

“Elizabeth, how many times have I told you not to watch Dr. Phil and Oprah together when they're on the same show? It's too much advice all at once. You're crying harder than the woman on the show.” Jane had turned off the TV. “What was today's topic?”

“About getting my ass off the couch.” Elizabeth sniffed, feeling foolish but slightly grateful for the excuse for a good cry. “And do something with my life.”

Jane tucked the blanket around her. “Your ass is where it needs to be right now, and that's staying on that couch as long as you need to take care of yourself. Where's Mom?”

“She ran out to get some flaxseeds for the hockey pucks Mary wants to make for me.”

“They're oatcakes and good for you to munch on. They have lots of protein and fiber.” Mary entered and placed a glass of freshly made wheatgrass juice on the coffee table.

After one glance at it, Elizabeth promptly threw up into a bowl Jane had at the ready.

“I'd kill for a Snickers candy bar right now,” Elizabeth said afterward. She couldn't wait for her father to come home tonight from teaching. He promised to sneak a Louisiana Hot Top Dog from her favorite grease joint on Durant Avenue in Berkeley. The women in the family had been trying to feed her healthy organic stuff.

“Do you know how much refined sugar is in each bar? Your babies will grow up to be hyperactive,” Mary said. “I'll make you a soy protein drink.” Mary took the wheatgrass and drank it before she left the room.

Elizabeth pressed her face closer to the threadbare old couch, seeking comfort in the musty smell of her dad's Old Spice cologne mixed with her mom's Jergens aloe lotion. “He likes doubles. Double fiancées. Double babies!”

“What?”

“Nothing. I'm just grumping.” She thought Jane had left with Mary.

“Honey, if you're this grumpy during your first trimester, I'll hate to see you at forty weeks.”

“With my luck I'll have to be on bed rest the whole time and never get off this couch.” She heard the self-pity in her voice and felt teary again.

“You're just sick of throwing up all the time. You'll feel better soon.” Jane's voice was gentle as she asked, “Lizzy, when are you going to call William?”

“‘Hey, guess what? That virgin who gave you her cherry almost three months ago? She's growing some fruits now. Want to see?' Should I say that?”

“Lizzy, you need to tell him.”

“I promise I'll call him when I can handle it. I can't deal with it right now. Let me have my pity moment. I only have a few more days to feel sorry for myself before the wedding.” She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Aunt Mai arrived and Elizabeth heard Jane quietly steer her toward the kitchen.

Mary had flown home right after Elizabeth got back from Sudan; Jane had arrived a few days ago. Mrs. Luc, Chau's mother, had agreed to take over the running of Gracechurch Orphanage. Elizabeth suspected both her sisters had hustled back home once they found out she was pregnant with twins and living with their parents.

“All I've done for weeks is lie on this couch, feeling sorry for myself. I'm a bad and pathetic country song.” She didn't know what was happening to her; pregnancy had turned her into a blubbering crybaby with no common sense and no pride. Despite everything, she still loved William.

Picture after picture of a younger him and various glamorous women kept replaying in Elizabeth's mind. The worst was the one of him passionately kissing a Victoria's Secret model with angel's wings—at a dance club, of all places—with his hands on the girl's breasts. After she saw that, she had impulsively signed up to work in Darfur with Doctors Without Borders. She wanted to be distracted by crimes against humanity and die a heroic death at the same time.

“Good, you're not asleep.” Aunt Mai entered. “Here's the protein shake Mary made.”

After drying her tears, Elizabeth sat up to drink her shake.

“What were you thinking about just now that made you look so sad?” Aunt Mai's hand brushed Elizabeth's hair gently.

“About the possibility of dying a heroic death in Sudan,” Elizabeth answered honestly. “Don't mind me. I'm still in my melodramatic mood.”

“How long were you there? Darfur, not the melodramatic mood.”

“Long enough to throw up on everybody. I never made it out of the hotel near the airport. I was so sick from throwing up all the time they sent me straight home.”

“It was fortunate Hussein was with you on the trip to Sudan.” Aunt Mai wiped a drop of shake from Elizabeth's chin.

“When he ordered me to give him a urine sample, I screamed at him,” Elizabeth admitted. Hussein's response was that he sure hoped she was pregnant, for if she wasn't, then he was going to kill her. She had been such an unbearable hormonal bitch on the trip over. He declared she was worse than any queen he had dated.

“What was he doing there?”

“He did a boob job on some Hollywood actress and she got him an invitation to work with some famous actor's pet project, protesting and publicizing Darfur's crime against humanity.”

“That's very admirable of him.”

Elizabeth snorted. “No it's not. He only did it so he could name drop his Hollywood connection. Neither of us saw any atrocities in Darfur, unless we count his meeting his fiancée.”

At a star-studded reception that Hussein had dragged her to, Elizabeth spent the whole time in the bathroom throwing up and crying about what a failure she was to a very skinny woman, who she later learned was some famous actress and a Goodwill Ambassador for the United Nations. The actress soothed her and said that everything would work out. She even offered Elizabeth a ride in her private plane back to California. Some guy name Jorge Cooley helped Elizabeth onto the plane. She was so weak from throwing up, she didn't even realize who he was or what movies he had been in, though Hussein whispered Jorge was very famous.

Hussein and Caroline Bingley, who was there representing a Hollywood socialite union, bonded at the party, and were now happily planning a wedding together.

“Will you be okay for the trip to the wedding?” Aunt Mai asked. “I worry about you and all those hours traveling in the car.”

“I'll be fine. I have to attend. I'm the best man.” Elizabeth hoped Hussein was correct, that Caroline's brother was unlikely to be back from Africa in time for the wedding and no one named Darcy was on the guest list. She refused to admit disappointment had been her first reaction on hearing that.

“You rest now.” Aunt Mai patted Elizabeth's back and stood. “I'll make you some
chao
. Bland rice soup with some beef broth will settle your stomach and give you some nutrition.”

Thank God for Vietnamese aunts who didn't ask probing questions, Elizabeth thought as she watched her aunt walk out the room.

***

“Did she tell you how she happened to get pregnant by accident?” Aunt Mai asked Jane, measuring some rice into a pot.

“No. You'd think being an infectious disease doctor she'd know to use contraceptives. But like most doctors, Lizzy never follows her own professional advice,” Jane answered.

“We've been hoping you'd know the details of her relationship with the father.”

“All I know is what Mary told me. Lizzy won't talk. Mom and Dad stopped asking her what happened, as it made her more upset each time they mentioned him.” Jane helped her aunt gather ingredients for the soup. “I haven't had much more luck.”

“You've met him. You even told me he adored her.” Aunt Mai suggested, “Why don't you call him and ask him what happened between them?”

“He did seem to adore her. But what do I know? You know my track record with judging men,” Jane said. “I'm reluctant to call him because… I'm afraid it's something Mary implied.”

“What did Mary say?”

“I'm afraid Lizzy might have gotten herself into the same situation that I did with my old boyfriend.”

Aunt Mai paused in lighting the stove. “What do you mean?”

“Mary said Lizzy was crying something about not wanting an arrest for domestic violence and bodily harm,” Jane said. “When she made the call to Mary, Lizzy said she didn't feel safe and didn't want to go home to him. That's why Mary had Lizzy leave New York that night.”

Aunt Mai sighed. “I guess I can't blame Mary then, though I can't believe she was going to have Lizzy fly around the world for two days with no luggage and no word to anybody. She should have told us.”

“You expect rational and practical planning from someone who spent weeks in a tree?”

“At least Lizzy came home, instead of going all the way to Vietnam.”

“Only because her flight had a layover in LA and she got off the plane to call him in New York. After the phone call, she spent so much time crying in the restroom at the airport that she missed the connecting flight to Hanoi,” Jane said. “She didn't hop on another plane to Vietnam because she didn't want William to worry about her being in Vietnam with Wickham loose.”

“Wickham? The guy she had Mr. Vinh put in prison?”

“Yes. He got out of prison, though. That's also why she decided against going back to Vietnam. Of course, she didn't know that Wickham had already left Vietnam by then.”

“She didn't want William—the man she ran away from—to worry about her safety in Vietnam, but she signed up for Darfur? Makes no sense to me,” Aunt Mai said. “Do you really think this William hurt Lizzy, physically?”

“I don't know. My gut instinct says no, but I'm hoping to get the real answers from Lizzy soon, once she's calm. I'll wait until after the wedding; she says she can't deal with anything until afterwards.” Jane glanced at her aunt. “Unlike me, Lizzy is not the kind to let a guy hurt her twice. She would leave after the first time. It fits her abruptly leaving New York.”

“Jane, dear, you must forgive yourself. It's hard for someone with your kind nature to acknowledge the bad in people you care about. But you did eventually leave, and it's behind you. Now, let's not make any conclusion about Lizzy's babies' father until we get the facts from her.”

“I'm going to be an aunt. I can't believe we're going to have babies in the family. We're all excited.”

“Your mother worries that Lizzy will have a difficult time as a working, single mother.”

“William's a responsible guy, whatever else he might be. He'll rush here the minute Lizzy tells him about the pregnancy, though good luck with him getting by Mary.”

“For such a tiny thing, Mary is a rather militant protector,” Aunt Mai agreed. “Are all you sisters going to Arizona?”

“All except Kitty,” Jane answered. “We'll have some sisterly fun this weekend and help Lizzy with her duties as best man.”