The Brontë Plot (37 page)
Lucy walked into the restaurant. She'd decided to meet James rather than accept his offer to pick her up. She thought if she simply headed there straight from work that it'd be easier, that she'd put less hope into the evening, that she'd hold fewer expectations, and that she'd be less disappointed if it all headed south and ended. None of that was true.
And it hadn't helped that when Sid returned from his meeting and found her bright red and fretting, he'd sent her home to change clothes and prepare for her “date,” declaring her nervous banter and pacing to be a distraction.
Once home and alone, she fared no better and tried on eight outfits before choosing one and heading to the restaurant. She searched the bar and realized arriving alone at a crowded restaurant didn't accomplish anything she hopedâthe chaos and noise grated, she couldn't find James, and she felt panicked. Her gaze finally landed on himâcalm and dressed just as he was that afternoon.
He wove his way to her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”
“I had time to go home after all.” She smoothed her white organdy skirt with embroidered flowers along the hem.
James slipped his hand into hers and led her past the hostess to a table. He glanced back once, twice . . . “I don't remember your hair being so curly.”
“I often straighten it. It was in a bun this afternoon, but it's always this curly. You saw it on the moors that day.”
James's eyes lit and Lucy felt her face redden. “You're right. I did.” He pulled out her chair.
Their server introduced himself and then left them with menus and silence. James spoke first. “What shall we eat?”
Lucy tucked her lips in, not wanting to hope. “I'm thinking the sea bass, and if I know you, you're eyeing the filet.”
James didn't lift his eyes from the menu. “That sounds good, but I was actually considering the scallops.”
The word
Liar!
was on the tip of Lucy's tongue, but she couldn't say it. She couldn't make fun of such a delicious olive-branch offering. Scallops were Lucy's favorite, never James's.
She peeked at him again, but he was studying the menu as if it was the most interesting read. She wanted to break through this dance, whatever it was, and find clarity. Find definition. This seesaw uncertainty was going to break her and had been threatening to since he asked her to dinner.
She opened her mouth to ask. She closed it. She opened it again and watched as his eyes trailed down the menu. He smiled at something he read.
Pulled pork?
His eyes trailed farther and pinched at something else.
Beets?
He reached the bottom and raised his brows.
Crème brûlée? Chocolate cake?
And then it struck herâhe was calm. The man who always sought clarity and rubbed his nose raw when he didn't have it, was at peace. And that meant one of two thingsâeither he'd
fundamentally changed, as she seemed to be doing daily, or there was clarity right here and now.
He looked up. “Have you decided yet?”
She felt herself calm. “I have. I know what I want.” He waited. “I'll order the scallops. You?”
“The filet.” James laid down his menu. “Tell me about the book business.”
Lucy told him about buying the business and forcing Sid to fire her, making confessional phone calls, returning books, selling books, offering replacements for other booksâand, above all, being so thankful that no one had ever mentioned Sid's name or questioned his integrity.
“And what about you? Are you enjoying the India work?”
“India? I wasn't in India. I was in Myanmar doing advance work for a water filtration project. Didn't Grams tell you?”
“She said you were out of town. I assumed it was the India project.”
“Now she decides to zip it?” James pulled his fingers across his lips. “No, the firm I'm with has a project in Myanmar and another in Liberia right now.”
“Wait? What? The firm you're with? Aren't you with the same firm?”
James laid down his menu. “Dawkins fired me, Lucy. I got the e-mail while we were in London. I can't believe you didn't know.” At Lucy's head shake, he continued. “It's okay, though. A couple other partners were furious with him and made some calls on my behalf. Within a few days, I got an offer at McDermott, Will and Emery. Last week I was getting up to speed in Myanmar.”
“I'm completely stunned.”
James told her more and Lucy felt herself relaxingâand no longer worrying about clarity at all. Whatever this was and whatever it would become was enough.
“Lucy?” When she glanced up from her dessert, she found James leaning forward, his face pinched. “I need to say something. In Haworth, you asked me a question and I gave you an incomplete answer, and when I tried to tell you when you called from London, you were worried about Sid and arriving at the airport and . . . What?”
Lucy was smiling. “You sound like me. Go on. I'm wondering how long you'll make this sentence.”
It worked. James's face relaxed in an animated smile. “Very funny.” He leaned back. “You asked if I believed in love at first sight and I said no.”
Lucy's heart dropped and the whole evening became confused. “I remember.”
“It wasn't a full answer and I've been thinking about it . . . While I don't believe in love at first sight, because I think it takes more work than that, I do believe that one soul can speak to another and find an inexplicably deep connection over a short period of time, unimaginably short, and know that it will never forget that soul, that moment, or the light it emits forever.
That
I believe in. I didn't tell you that . . . And I wanted you to know.”
Lucy felt her mouth go dry. She pursed her lips, afraid to speak, and her images from that day returned. Cathy called out at the window and Heathcliff reached for her. Jane stepped back to the tree as Rochester clasped her close and kissed her. Dillon made his way back to Haworth and grew old at Bette's side.
And James? Lucy desperately wanted to know. She licked her lips, willing her voice to come out sure and smooth. “What do you do when that happens?”
“That's a little more complicated, isn't it? I mean, just because one soul will love another forever, doesn't mean it should. It doesn't always work out. But then, as you say, and I've come to agree, people change. And when two people figure out how to do that together, then yes,
that
can last forever.”
“Oh . . .” Lucy's heart melted.
“One more thing . . .” He paused and Lucy felt as though she might leap from her seat. “I have tickets to a play next month. They were getting passed around at the office yesterday and I snagged them. Do you want to go?”
“What's with lawyers and superfluous play tickets?” Lucy laughed. “
Pippin
again?”
“
Sense and Sensibility
. The Musical. What do you say?”
Lucy leaned forward. Within a heartbeat, without wavering or blinking, she replied, “I'm all in.”
M
y first three books sit closely on a shelf. They don't form a series, but common threads are so readily apparent. Women seeking voices, places to stand, true life, love, joy, and familyâand all with a healthy (sometimes saturating) dose of classic literature. They've been such fun! But there's a deeper thread andâwhile I'm beyond thankful for the incredible words penned and emotional journeys conveyed by Jane Austen, the Brontë sisters, Charles Dickens, Jean Webster, Alexandre Dumas, and too many others to nameâI need to give a shout-out to probably the most pervading influence in my thinking and writing. Thank you, C. S. Lewis.
I also offer my deepest gratitude to Daisy Hutton, extraordinary editor, publisher, and friend. Thank you for believing this story could be so much more than I first envisioned. I'm thankful for your faith and your trustâand thrilled we'll get to do this all over again . . . And again.
And to the incredible team at Thomas NelsonâKatie Bond, Elizabeth Hudson, Jodi Hughes, Kristen Ingebretson, Becky
Monds, and the amazing sales team. Many thanks for all your hard work to bring these stories to the world, wearing so many hatsâand with such incredible style!
To my Grove-y sisters and dear friends, Thank you. Sarah Ladd, Kristy Cambron, Beth Vogt, Katie Ganshert, Cara Putman, Melissa Tagg, and Courtney Walsh . . . I cherish our friendship, prayer-chain e-mails, understanding, and our blog. I feel so blessed to be counted within this group. And a special thanks to Rachel McMillian and Hilary Manton Lodge for answering my desperate Facebook plea, for your friendship . . . And for the title! To Elizabeth LaneâThanks for dreaming up the “events” with me, first readings, last readings, and always answering the phone. And to Claudia CrossâI'm so delighted to be on this road with you; our fun together is only beginning. Kindred spirits all!
And speaking of kindred spiritsâThank you to my family, Team Reay, for the everyday gritty camaraderie and to four generations of unfailing love and support. There wouldn't be a glimmer of an idea, any ideas, without you.
Last, but not leastâThank
you
. So many of you have joined me on this bookish journeyâreaders, reviewers, bloggers. There is such joy out there! Thank you for reading and sharing with me! I hope you enjoyed Lucy and Helen.
1.
The Lewis quote at the front of the book describes an aspect of Lucy at the beginning of this story. Why do you think she'd lost the power to enjoy books? Is there something in our lives that we can fail to see clearly and lose enjoyment for?
2.
Sid is one of the author's favorites. What character trait do you think she found so attractive? She doesn't tell you a lot about his backgroundâany thoughts as to his story?
3.
Was James justified in feeling so hurt when he found the forged inscriptions? How did he perceive Lucy's struggle? Was it a betrayal, like he claimed?
4.
Why did Helen hold on to the watch? What was she really afraid to let go? What did it cost her along the way?
5.
In London both women begin to change. Why? Do you think James is right that “strings pull tighter at home”?
6.
Lucy talks about “boiling a frog.” What does she mean?
7.
What changed in Lucy at Haworth, even before her wandering to Top Withens? And at Top Withens, why did Edward Rochester's journey make such sense to her?
8.
Do you agree with Lucy that each person has his or her own worldview? How did hers change? How did James's? Helen's?
9.
How do you think Helen's journey will affect her final days with her family?
10. Lucy's meeting with her father was not what she expected or hoped. What do you think of her letter? Her reasons for leaving without a personal good-bye? What did walking away mean for her? And what do you think she meant when she said “wholeness lies somewhere else entirely”? Do you think her father will understand?
11. In the end Lucy works hard to changeâeven her reading choices change. Do you think she'll succeed or, as James once contended, do you think “people don't change”?
12. Will Lucy and James make it as a couple? Why or why not? Do they see each other more or less clearly now?
13. This story is one of choices. How do you see them playing out with each character? In your own life? Are the choices not made as powerful as the ones we consciously make? Is there a difference between them?
A
N
E
XCERPT FROM
D
EAR
M
R
. K
NIGHTLEY
Dear Sir,
It has been a year since I turned down your generous offer. Father John warned me at the time that I was making a terrible mistake, but I wouldn't listen. He felt that by dismissing that opportunity I was injuring not only myself, but all the foster children helped by your foundation.
I hope any perceived ingratitude on my part didn't harm anyone else's dreams. I wasn't ungrateful; I just wanted to leave Grace House. A group home is a difficult place to live, and I'd been there for eight years. And even though I knew graduate school meant more education and better job prospects, it also meant living at Grace House another two years. At the time I couldn't face that prospect.
My heart has always been in my books and writing, but I couldn't risk losing a paying job to pursue a dream. Now I'm ready to try. Not because I failed, but because this degree gives me the chance to link my passion with my livelihood.
Please let me know if the grant is still available. I will understand if you have selected another candidate.
Sincerely,
Samantha Moore
Dear Ms. Moore,
The grant for full tuition to the master's program at Northwestern University's Medill School of Journalism remains available. At the strong recommendation of Father John, and due to the confidence he has in you, the director of the Dover Foundation has agreed to give you this second chance. There is, however, one stipulation. The director wants to receive personal progress letters from you as reassurance that this decision was the right one. You may write to him as you would to a journal, letting him know how your studies are going. He has opened a post office box for this purpose so you won't feel the added pressure of an immediate connection to him or to the foundation. Additionally, he will not write back, but asks that you write to him regularly about “things that matter.”