Chapter 17

“Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public place or other.”

— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume II, Chapter Eighteen

I couldn’t find Jane anywhere. Not in our room, not in the bathroom, not even holed up in the basement rec room with old movies and a box of Kleenex. Finally, I looked outside. Jane’s car was gone. On Easter Sunday evening. What the—?

Well, I wouldn’t figure out anything tonight. I yawned, slipped into my pj’s, and turned out the light. Another wild night at the Bennet house. Almost made a girl yearn for Fargo.

Not.

Monday morning, Jane was out the door before I even heard a toilet flush. I didn’t catch her until a little after five, when we got home from class at the same moment—in separate cars, since I’d been forced to swipe the Jeep. I grabbed her elbow and dragged her inside, prepared to hold her hostage until she confessed what was going on. She tried to jerk her arm back and muttered something rude. Too bad. I’m stronger.

A minute later, armed with a package of double-stuffed Oreos and a couple of cans of Diet Coke, we headed upstairs.

I plunked down on my bed, forgetting my open can of Diet Coke until it sloshed over my hand. Jane wrinkled her nose, probably because she never makes messes. Well, except for the Charlie thing.

After licking the Diet Coke off my hand, I waited for her to say something about Charlie. Had she seen him? Had she told him? Had she decided what to do?

Before I could ask, she shook her head. “I never saw Charlie, Liz. I tried to, but I guess he was busy.”

I frowned. “Too busy for you to tell him about—”

Jane waved her hands in the air to stop me. Even though the door was closed. Even though Mom wasn’t home from work yet.

She glanced at the door and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I couldn’t tell him over the phone. And it’s not like I’d ever run into him. New York is just too big.”

Unlike Woodbury? My mind burned with questions I couldn’t ask. Had she stalked Charlie in Woodbury? Had she done it in New York after Christmas? Or was Alex just a paranoid, self-absorbed jerk who thought every girl in the world wanted to stalk Charlie and him?

“You could’ve called him to say you had some news, but you had to tell him in person.”

Jane blanched. “Liz! He’d know what the so-called news was. He’s not an idiot.”

Alex didn’t think Charlie could handle a sweetie like Jane on his own, though, which had to be the definition of stupid. It made me wonder why Alex was friends with Charlie. I wouldn’t want to hang out with an idiot.

I looked at Jane, sizing her up. I’d freak if I were pregnant, not to mention pregnant and not even talking to the guy who’d gotten me that way.

“So...what do you plan to do?”

She shook her head, her hair swishing into her face and half covering it. “I-I’ve decided I’m over him.”

“What?” I glared at her. “I meant, what are you going to do about—?” As Jane started to hold up her hand, I pointed at her stomach. It didn’t matter; I couldn’t say the word out loud anyway. It only made this whole mess seem even more real.

Jane shrugged. “I’ll be fine, Liz. Don’t worry.”

Right. Even though I’d spent half my life worrying about Jane, obviously with good reason.

“Jane, I have to—”

“You don’t have to do anything. This is my problem, Liz. You’re always trying to clean up all my messes, whether I want you to or not.”

Was she reading my mind? “But I like to—”

“I appreciate it, but no.” She smoothed the covers of her bed, even though they were already pristine. “Anyway. Tell me about Fargo.”

Unbelievable. I should tell Jane about my life when she never told me anything about hers? “Well, I didn’t have sex with anyone, as it turns out.”

I thought of Mrs. Parks and the shotgun in the front hall closet, and a small laugh escaped me. “But someone did ask me out on a date.”

Jane gasped. “Bill? Poor Rachel.”

“Definitely not Wild Bill.” I rolled my eyes, then told her. About Alex asking me out, me being a bitch right back.

Jane shook her head. “Poor Alex.”

She wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about him if she knew. But how could I tell Jane that, oh, by the way, Alex thought she was a stalker? “Alex? As if!”

“But he must’ve thought you’d go out with him. I mean, who wouldn’t?”

“You.”

She looked...sad. And not like the old Jane at all. “Seriously, Liz. He’s hot. Sure, he must know it, but that only makes it more shocking. No one turns him down.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t have turned him down?”

“Of course not.” Jane gave me a sly smile. “But you might have reconsidered the part about slamming the door on him.”

I grinned sheepishly. “What can I say? I got caught up in the moment. Besides, Alex dealt with it, in true Alex fashion.”

“Oh? He slammed a door in your face?”

I pictured the deadly serious look on Alex’s face during our long talk. I remembered my frozen butt even better. But I still couldn’t work up the nerve to tell her what Alex said about Jane and Charlie, so I told her about Justin.

“No way.” She straightened the covers beneath her—again!—as she shook her head. “There must be some mistake.”

“No mistake.” I felt my face flame as I imagined how many guys must’ve heard what I supposedly did with Justin. “Unfortunately for me.”

For a minute, Jane just looked stunned. “Justin seemed like such a nice guy.”

“Nice?” Was she confusing him with Charlie?

“Well, charming, anyway. And poor Alex. He stood up for you like that, and you turned him down and yelled at him about Justin.”

“You act like it’s my fault. It’s Justin’s fault.” I crammed four Oreos in my mouth and chugged a huge gulp of Diet Coke, choking on it. Once I could breathe again, I took a moment to think. I finally shook my head. “When Alex told me what Justin had done, I felt so horrible, so stupid, and I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about it. No Jane. No Mom.”

Jane’s lips twitched a moment before we both broke into hysterics. Even Jane wouldn’t talk to Mom about something like this. I was lucky she’d talk to me. Except that, since getting home, she hadn’t. Not about Charlie.

I took another swig of Diet Coke, dribbling it down my Metallica T-shirt. Still, I felt a bit better, even though I hadn’t told Jane about Charlie. I told myself she wouldn’t want to know. Looking at her face, though, pale and drawn and totally unlike Jane, I wasn’t sure. Charlie was in New York, but he was also right here. Like, 24/7.

I wanted to do something about it. But what, short of flying to New York and dragging Charlie back with me? I’d already tried calling him—a month ago—and he’d never called back. Another thing I’d never told Jane; the list was growing.

Of course, I’d only talked to Stephanie. Was it possible she hadn’t told Charlie? I rolled my eyes. Duh!

The next morning, I scrounged for the scrap of paper on which I’d scribbled my Google-search info about Charlie. A few minutes later, I zapped him an email. Short and to the point. As in, “where the hell are you?” but a bit more classy and elegant than that. Heh heh.

The smile dropped off my face ten minutes later, when Charlie wrote back.

From:bingham.charlie@binghamgames.com

To:lizzzz@mail4u.net

Sorry. Busy in New York and don’t know when I’ll be back in Minnesota. It’s not on my agenda.

Shaking my head, I just stared at the computer screen. Had alien body snatchers grabbed Charlie and replaced him with the robot who wrote that email?

Despite myself, tears for Jane filled my eyes. I’d been wrong about Charlie, but all this time? He must’ve been toying with her, for lack of better options, during the couple of months he’d been here. And then he broke down and “let” her do the wild thing with him in New York.

The jerk.

My stomach churned as I remembered how I encouraged Jane to call him after he left, despite my feelings about The Book and my selfish hope that she’d forget him and focus on getting an apartment with me. How could I have been so stupid? So wrong? How could Alex have been so right?

I hit the “delete” key. So much for finding Charlie and forcing him to talk to Jane. If Jane wanted to handle her pregnancy on her own—even though she didn’t seem to be doing a great job of it—I wouldn’t say a thing. The Charlie I thought I knew was missing in action.

April came and went, spring lurked in the shadows, and nothing much changed in our pathetic little house.

Including Jane. She’s always been slim, but, well, she still was. And she never had anything resembling morning sickness, not one bit, as far as I knew. Bottom line, except for the fact that she looked miserable all the time, she didn’t look like any pregnant girl I’d ever known.

Not that I’d known many. Up close, I mean.

We were driving home from school one day in early May, Jane behind the wheel of the Prius, when I glanced at her and noticed that her stomach wasn’t any closer to the wheel than it’d ever been. I mean, it was as flat as mine. Since I had all that time on my hands from lack of dating, I did a lot of crunches. But Jane? When she’s supposedly four months pregnant?

I called her on it. “You’re looking good.”

She glanced at me sideways, then back at the road. A moment later, she hung a left into the DQ parking lot. “Thanks.”

I waited until we both got out of the car. “I mean, it’s amazing that you look so good. Considering.”

She raised one eyebrow, slung her purse over her shoulder, and marched to the door. Without waiting for me.

I caught up and pressed my hand on the door when she tried to pull it open. “Jane. What’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on.” She glared at my hand, then at my face. “Except for the fact that I’m trying to go inside, and someone won’t let me.”

“Craving ice cream, huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not at the moment. I was hoping to get a Diet Coke.”

At this point, we both knew Jane wasn’t pregnant, but I had to hear it from her. I bit my lip, waiting, then gave up when a couple of guys tried to leave and I had to open the door for them. When I did, Jane slipped inside and strode up to the counter, ordering a Diet Coke for her and a cherry Dilly Bar for me. While she paid, I grabbed a booth in the far corner.

Amazingly, she joined me there.

“Liz, I—I’m not pregnant.”

“And you’ve known this how long?”

She sucked in a long sip through her straw, then wiped her mouth with her napkin. Her eyes on the table, she traced little swirly patterns with her fingertip. “Since March. Or, well, maybe the end of February.”

“So, two months ago. At least.” I heard the dull sound of my own voice, felt the shock in my gut. I knew Jane had kept secrets from me when it came to Charlie, but this big a secret? When I’d tried to do so much for her?

Head down, she just nodded.

“Why?”

“It...felt like my one connection to Charlie.”

I blinked. “You have no connection to Charlie. He used you and dumped you.”

I heard Jane’s sharp intake of breath, but I’d also seen Charlie’s email, and he wasn’t coming back. Ever. If I were him right now, I might not, either. Not to Jane.

Shaking my head, I glanced at my Dilly, barely touched, and realized I couldn’t choke down another bite. I stood up, tossed the rest of it in the garbage can, and walked out.

Jane called after me, but I just kept walking. Home. Like Charlie, I was done with her.

We didn’t speak to each other for a week. Actually, Jane tried to talk, but I shut her out. Between sharing a bedroom and a ride to school every day, it wasn’t easy. Especially when I realized that my alternatives, with Jane on my shit list and Rachel in Fargo, were my three younger sisters.

Talk about having no one in my life.

It maybe explained why, between classes and studying, I managed to make a few more covert trips to Victoria’s Secret. But that didn’t really explain it. I mean, I didn’t want to look like Stephanie Bingham, whose boobs were always pushed up practically to her nose. And Alex had seen my sweatpants and football jerseys and asked me out anyway. Of course, we’re talking past tense.

After running into Jane on Valentine’s Day, though, I never set foot again inside Victoria’s Secret. I just hovered outside the window at the Mall of America, trying to hide in the crowds, terrified that someone I knew might see me.

Lydia, on the other hand, wanted everyone to see her newly sleek shape. She went on a crash diet and exercised for the first time in her life, stealing my jump rope and weights every time I blinked. And she chattered nonstop about Wisconsin Dells, even though Dad kept saying no.

I counted down the days until May fourteen, when the circus troupe headed to Wisconsin Dells. Without Lydia.

She slumped in her chair at breakfast one morning, pushing at the runny eggs on her plate. “The guys are leaving Sunday, right after their last show. My life is over.”

“Lucky you didn’t have much of a life, then.”

Dad looked at me sharply over the top of his newspaper, but he didn’t say anything, and Mom didn’t hear. She got some red Beats headphones for Easter and had them on, probably jamming to something crazy like Frank Sinatra.

She stopped bopping, though, when she saw the crocodile tears running down Lydia’s face. “Lydia! What’s the matter?”

Lydia stole a quick smirk at me, not letting Mom see it. “It’s just that, like, the circus troupe is leaving on Sunday, and Liz is making fun of me.”

“Liz! Don’t be mean to your sister.” Mom gave Dad a meaningful look. “If only Lydia could go to Wisconsin Dells. If only there were a way.”

Dad held the paper up higher. I grinned.

Lydia reached across the table and slapped me. “Stop it, Liz. You know it’d be so cool if I could go this summer. Is that too much to ask, Dad?”

“Yes, now that you mention it.”

“Daaaad.” Lydia started wailing again, and Cat jumped in, pointing out that she was six minutes older than Lydia, and why couldn’t she go, too?

It was so loud, we almost didn’t hear the landline ring. Mary picked up. “Lydia. For you.” She slammed the receiver down on the kitchen counter, and even Dad winced.

Lydia soon started squealing into the phone, then shocked everyone when she handed the phone to Mom. Mom squealed, too, the moment she hung up.

“Howard! Girls! Lydia has such news. Bunny Fletcher has invited Lydia to join the circus troupe for their summer season in Wisconsin Dells!”

Dad just lit up a cigar, right at the breakfast table, and stared at Mom as Lydia strutted around like a peacock.

I shook my head. “Dad, didn’t you already tell Lydia no? As in, N-O?”

Dad and his cigar moved outside, to the front steps.

Slumped over her eggs, Cat pouted. “It’s not fair!”

Lydia snorted. “Bunny’s my friend. And, like, I’ve been working out. Getting in shape. I’m totally ready.”

I finally saw the point of all those carrots Lydia had been eating for the past month. “Dad said no. Face it, you’re a sophomore in high school. A baby.”

“I’m not a baby!” Lydia swung around to Mom. “I can go, can’t I, Mom? I mean, Bunny asked me. I’ll stay with her and Zach, and I’ll be working. This will be great!”

As low sobs emanated from the general direction of Cat, Mom looked at each of them, clearly torn between congratulating Lydia and consoling Cat.

“How old is Bunny, Lydia? Seventeen yet?”

“Ha ha, Liz. You’re just jealous. She’s twenty-three, maybe even twenty-four.” Lydia looked sideways at Mom. “Bunny and Zach are very responsible. Just like me.”

I shook my head. “It’s one or the other. Either they’re responsible, or they’re like you.”

As Lydia stuck out her tongue at me, I headed outside. Dad sat on the steps, chewing on his cigar and staring at the horizon. The sky held puffy white clouds striped with traces of dusty pink, and it would have been beautiful if it weren’t for the fact that Lydia made me want to barf.

“Dad, you can’t let her go.”

Smoke curled above his head, the smell of it sickly sweet against the fragile whiff of spring in the air.

“Really. You can’t. Lydia already gets into more trouble than you know, and she’d be a nightmare in Wisconsin Dells. Bunny is barely older than Jane. How can you expect her to keep an eye on Lydia?”

“I’d trust Jane to oversee Lydia.”

“Jane wouldn’t trust herself to watch Lydia.” Dad and Mom were doing a pretty lousy job, too, but it didn’t seem like a great moment to point it out. “She’s out of control. Drinking, partying, hanging out with the worst kids.”

He turned to me, finally, and smiled. “Jane?”

“Funny. You know exactly what I mean. Lydia stole my credit card, and she’s been grounded half of the last year. So she gets a trip to Wisconsin Dells as her prize for bad behavior?”

Dad nodded. “Hardly seems fair.”

“You got that right.” I breathed a sigh of relief. He understood. For once, he wouldn’t cave in.

He took a long drag on his cigar. “Unfortunately, life isn’t always fair. I think I need to let her go, Lizzie. Let her spread her wings.”

She’d probably already spread them over half the guys in her high-school class. “What?”

Dad took my hand. Pretty stunning for a guy who was not only Minnesotan but half Norwegian to boot. “Lizzie, she needs to grow up, and she can’t get into any more trouble in Wisconsin Dells than she can here.”

“You wish.”

He acknowledged it with a shrug. “I think the summer will show her that she’s not ‘all that,’ as you girls like to say. And if she doesn’t behave, we’ll bring her home.”

“She’s never behaved in her life. Why wait?”

“She’s actually worked hard to get in shape for the circus, and it’s the first time I’ve seen that sort of commitment from her. Perhaps she’s already growing up.”

“Or maybe she just doesn’t want everyone calling her a muffin top for the rest of her life.”

“Muffin top?”

I shook my head. “You don’t want to know, Dad.”

As always. Unfortunately.

I was pissed but didn’t have time to dwell on it. Classes ended last Friday, and I had finals this week. Calculus, honors chemistry, physics. Freshman comp, just to dispel the belief that engineering majors can’t write a sentence that doesn’t contain an equation.

Wednesday, after a grueling calculus final, I had to blow off some stress. Before I knew it, I parked the Jeep and wandered into the Mall of America. I cruised past Victoria’s Secret, turned back, and went inside. All that lace was like a final exam out of my nightmares—the type where I’d never shown up for class, let alone studied for the final.

I trotted right back out and headed home.

I walked in the front door as Lydia twirled around the living room in a leotard she hadn’t owned last week. Mary played a funeral march on the piano, which actually seemed appropriate for once, and Cat sulked on the couch.

“Lydia? Is that the new fashion for high-school sophomores? Or were you hoping to impress some middle-school kids?”

Lydia stopped twirling and, catching one foot on the other, went down like a load of bricks. “Damn it, Liz. You made me lose my balance.”

“I think your center of gravity did that.” I grinned. “Even if you lose thirty pounds, you’re still not coordinated. You’ll need a few wires to hold you up.”

Lydia grabbed her boobs. “At least I have underwires.”

I frowned. Just what I’d been coveting in Victoria’s Secret twenty minutes ago. Had she read my mind? “Well, they don’t seem to be holding you up, either.”

“Listen to you.” Lydia smirked in that really unattractive way she has. “You don’t even need a bra, much less underwires.”

I rolled my eyes and headed upstairs. So maybe I was somewhere in the awkward territory between an A and B cup, but I wasn’t a total bust, so to speak. And the Kleenex Lydia probably stuffed in her own bras didn’t count.

Besides, Lydia didn’t even have half a brain. And it takes a brain to attract the right kind of guy, doesn’t it?

I mean, not that I care about that kind of crap.

Somehow, I made it past honors chem and freshman comp, and the summer stretched before me like a blank canvas. On Saturday, Lydia dripped on the danged canvas.

She flounced into the living room and started to do a twirl, then looked at me and must’ve thought better of it. “Liz! Are you coming to the big bash tonight?”

I lifted an eyebrow. “A high-school party? Doubtful.”

“Not a high-school party, Ms. Know-It-All.” Lydia’s hands went to her hips. “A wrap party for the circus troupe.”

“And they invited you? Can they serve alcohol with minors there, or were you planning to be escorted by Mom?”

“As if!” Lydia whipped her head around to see if Mom was anywhere in the vicinity. “I’m part of the troupe.”

“Not for another month. And you’ll probably be back home again within two days.” I shook my head. “Sorry. I have better things to do on a Saturday night.”

“Since when?”

Since...not lately. “I might wash my hair. Or paint my toenails and watch them dry.”

Lydia looked around, as if searching for an ally, but she’d lost Cat the day Bunny invited Lydia to come to Wisconsin Dells. Sighing, she finally turned back to me. “I know you want to go to the party.”

“What you mean is that Dad won’t let you steal the Jeep anymore, and you need a ride to the party.”

Lydia flounced from the room and ran upstairs. Whew. I hadn’t seen Justin since before spring break, and I wanted to keep it that way. Like, forever.

Jane walked in the door from God knows where, looking washed out and five years older than she had before Charlie skipped town, but her eyes flickered briefly when Lydia mentioned the party. Next thing I knew, Jane agreed to go.

Weird.

After a dinner of takeout Chinese, Jane dragged me by the arm out to her car, Lydia trotting along behind us. Jane had obviously gone off the deep end. Apparently, Lydia and I would be her escorts to the bottom of the pool.

At the party, I managed to avoid Justin for half an hour, but then he must’ve run out of girls to flirt with. He came up to the bar, where I was busy debating whether I’d get caught if I imbibed. When he leaned against the bar and looked deeply into my eyes, I decided to go with alcohol.

I popped the top on a can of Budweiser. So much for cool sophistication. But the only other alcohol in sight was a bottle of tequila with a fermented worm at the bottom.

Justin tapped his beer can against mine. “How about a toast to the cutest girl here?”

I looked around. “Sure. Where is she?”

He kept flirting, despite my lack of encouragement, but I didn’t plan to make it pleasant for him.

“So. I heard you spent some time in Fargo.”

I raised one eyebrow. “Two months ago.”

“And you haven’t regaled me with all your exploits.”

“Probably because you’d tell everyone. And make things up.” I gave him the evil eye until he flinched. “By the way, I ran into a friend of yours there. Alex Darcy.”

I smiled brightly at Justin, whose face turned green.

After a moment, he pulled himself together. Sort of. “Did you—I mean, how was he?”

I took a calm, sophisticated swallow of my unsophisticated Bud. “Alex? Great. I mean, he’s such a nice guy.”

It hadn’t kept me from turning him down, but Justin didn’t have to know that. He’d tell everyone.

As Justin chugged the rest of his beer and crushed the can in his hand, I took a dainty sip of my own beer. Justin snapped open the top on another beer and gulped down half of it. “I guess you’re right. He’s always such a good little boy.”

I rolled my eyes. “At least it’s refreshing to meet a guy who, for instance, never lies about me.”

He saluted me with his beer can and drained the rest of it, ending with a belch he tried to cover with his hand. Without waiting to see what else he’d say, I sashayed across the room, feeling his gaze scorch my butt the whole way.

Thank God for good genes and even better jeans. And thank God Justin was leaving tomorrow. Good news, finally.