Chapter 21

“But there are two things that I want very much to know—one is, how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever to repay him.”

— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume III, Chapter Seven

Mom’s newfound joy made her eager to rejoin us—and she celebrated by making dinner. While we battled rock-hard pork chops, Mom acted as if life couldn’t be better. As if Lydia hadn’t spent time in jail on prostitution charges and didn’t now reign as the queen of the Internet porn sites.

I glanced toward the far end of the table, where Dad had a benign smile on his face. How could he lie to Mom like that? Won’t she freak when she finds out the truth?

But that day wasn’t today. Maybe that was Dad’s point.

Mom stabbed her fork in Jane’s direction. “I’ve been thinking we could shop on the Internet. We’d have the pick of all the best stores in New York and L.A. Wouldn’t it make more sense than trying to find the right clothes in Woodbury?”

Jane nearly choked to death.

Dad thumped her on the back. “Now, Connie. Jane and Lizzie know what they’re doing. We have several years’ worth of credit card bills to prove it.” He shook his head. “Besides, I don’t think Lydia needs much. She’ll be with other girls, most of whom will likely be wearing jeans.”

Jane nodded almost violently. “I’m sure he’s right, Mom. I think Lydia will want jeans.”

“Jeans? Is everyone crazy?” Mom looked wildly at us.

Dad cleared his throat. “Considering how Lydia has spent the summer, I refuse to spend much money on her. She’ll do just fine with the clothes she already has, although I don’t object to new underwear and perhaps a few pairs of socks.”

“Howard!”

With that, he got up and left the table. Moments later, we heard the front door slam.

Mom ranted in his absence. When the buzzing got too loud, I left the table and trudged upstairs to be alone. To think.

Odd. Somehow the whole Lydia mess had been fixed just like that. Yeah, nude pictures of her filled the Internet, but most people wouldn’t see them. I groaned, feeling stupid about blabbing to Alex. If I’d just waited a few days, Lydia would be off at “boarding school” and Alex none the wiser.

Not that he’d spread the news. It was more than enough that he knew. He’d never want to go out with me now.

Thank God he lives in Connecticut. I think.

Early Friday morning, we gathered around the breakfast table, our plates of mushy scrambled eggs hardly touched. As Mom skimmed through a stack of papers from her briefcase, Dad fought me for the sports section, Jane swatted Cat for the comics, and Mary intoned the front page of the business section in a way that reminded me of a Gregorian chant.

The front door slammed open.

I leaped up first, wondering who left it unlocked. Lydia waltzed in, suitcase in hand.

“Hey, Liz. Could you pay my cab driver?” She waved jauntily to the scruffy guy standing at the door. She’d probably made out with him on the trip here. “I’m fresh out.”

Fresh out of jail. “Lydia, what are you doing here? You were supposed to be in Montana. Like, yesterday.”

She dropped her suitcase with a loud thunk. “I said, could you pay him? I owe him money.”

“But I don’t. Go break into your piggy bank.”

“Liz!” Mom came running through the living room, snatching her purse from a chair before engulfing Lydia in a fierce hug. “You’re here! What a wonderful surprise. Don’t worry, dear, I’ll go pay the cabdriver. How much is it?”

Lydia waved a hand in the air. “Oh, a few hundred, no more than five hundred, tops.”

“Hundred? Lydia! What happened? I don’t have that kind of money in my purse.”

Dad ambled toward us, but he didn’t reach for his wallet.

“Hey, Dad.” Lydia didn’t look the least bit repentant for any of her sins, including the one awaiting payment at the front door. “I didn’t have money for a bus, so I grabbed a cab from Milwaukee. I said you’d pay when we got here.”

“I have no intention of paying for your cab, young lady. Phil said he put you on a plane to Montana.”

Mom’s face was beet red as she rummaged wildly in her purse, finally emerging triumphant with a checkbook. “Don’t worry, Lydia. I’ll write a check.”

“Oh, no, you won’t.” Dad snatched the checkbook out of Mom’s hand. “Lydia, you’ll be paying for this yourself. Not from your mother’s checkbook and not with, say, a credit card you’ve stolen from Lizzie or anyone else.”

“Dad!” “Howard!”

“And that’s final.”

He jabbed the checkbook in the air, making his point, as the cab driver cleared his throat. Mom snatched the checkbook back out of Dad’s hand and ran outside.

“Damn it, Connie. Stop!” But before Dad could catch Mom, she quickly scribbled out a check and handed it to the driver, who sprinted to his cab and soon peeled out from the curb.

After staring at the disappearing taxi’s black exhaust for a moment, we all trooped back inside. The instant the door slammed shut, Dad grabbed Mom’s checkbook and shredded the checks. When Mom shrieked, Lydia laughed. “Good joke, Dad. Mom, you can just get new checks from your bank.”

With everyone clustered around her, Lydia bobbed with self-importance. I glanced at her waist. The tight abs she’d worked so hard to acquire were gone, and the muffin top had returned. I pushed aside the awful thought that she might have a more lasting reminder of her days and weeks with Justin.

She whirled in place, as if looking for the lost treasure of Timbuktu. “Has anyone heard from Justin? Phil wouldn’t let me talk to him, but Justin promised to find me.”

Dad shook his head. “How? When?”

She fluttered a hand. “I saw him for a few minutes before Phil acted like a big jerk and read me a lecture. Right. Like I’m supposed to listen to him or the stupid old judge. But Justin doesn’t know about my new school. I have to call him. He’ll think I’m here and come looking for me.”

Dad shook his head. “We have a restraining order against him. If he comes within a block of you, here or in Montana, he’ll have a one-way ticket back to jail.”

“Dad!” “Howard!”

Dad just rolled his eyes and, returning to the living room, plunked down in his recliner and lit up a stogie.

Lydia glanced around at the rest of us, looking smug. So like herself. “The kids at school are gonna be, like, so jealous when they hear about my summer, and now I’m going to this cool boarding school. I had to tell all the girls about it. They think they’re cool, but I’m still the coolest.”

I couldn’t take another moment of Lydia without puking, so I returned to the kitchen table, where my scrambled eggs had congealed into a disgusting yellow heap.

Lydia dropped into a chair next to me. “You must be totally jealous, Liz. You were hot on Justin, and I got him.”

I rolled my eyes. “I tend to go after guys who stay out of jail.”

“You’d probably like Alex Darcy, then. He drilled me a lecture me, too. The guy has a pole up his ass.”

Alex? “What?”

Lydia put a hand over her mouth. “Shit. I promised not to mention Alex, but, man, what a pompous jerk.” She shrugged at Mom, who looked mildly horrified.

My mind raced, wondering how Alex had gotten involved. And why? Alex thought Lydia was a twit at best and a prostitute at worst. So why would he do anything for her?

My stomach churned, but I smiled sweetly at Lydia. “I just hope you don’t find Montana too boring. No Justin, and maybe no guys at all.”

“No guys? As if!”

“Didn’t anyone mention that you’re going to an all-girls’ school?” I tried to look sympathetic. Not. “Bummer.”

“Dad?” Lydia’s head whipped around, but Dad was still camped in the living room and not answering. “Dad, I’m not going to an all-girls’ school, am I?”

I laughed out loud. “Sweetheart, that’s the least of the surprises in your life.”

“Liz!” Mom patted Lydia’s arm. “It’s one of the top schools in the nation, dear. You’ll love it.”

“But will there be guys there?”

I grinned. “Maybe outside the windows, panting.”

As an uproar ensued, I slid out of my chair and headed for sanctuary. Dad set down his cell phone as I walked past him. “I’m afraid Lydia can’t stay. I’m taking her to the airport. Lydia, I’ll wait until I’ve actually seen the plane taxi out and take off. We leave in five minutes.”

“But Dad—”

“Complain and you’ll have less than five minutes. Now say your good-byes. It’ll be some time before you get to see everyone again.” He looked sharply at his watch as Lydia scrambled to her feet.

“Like Christmas?”

As Lydia’s question hung in the air, the doorbell rang, and Mary went to answer it. She returned to the kitchen and pointed at the front door, shaking too hard to speak. I dashed after Dad to check it out.

Two police officers stood at the door. “Mr. Bennet? We understand that Lydia Bennet did not arrive as promised on the flight to Montana, and we need to collect her if she’s here.”

“I was just about to take her to the airport. I’ll make sure she boards the next flight.”

“We’ll accompany you, sir.”

Mom joined us at the door, shrieking. “Howard? Why do they care if Lydia didn’t catch her flight? She’s just going off to boarding school. She’s just a girl!”

Dad stepped outside, joining the two officers, and pulled the door shut. A moment later, he came back inside, and the police left in their squad car. “There’s been a mistake, dear. Sorry. Now, Lydia, please get your things.”

“But how did they make such a big mistake?”

“These things happen. Especially around Lydia.”

As Lydia scooted upstairs, and Mom scurried after her, I whispered to Dad. “What’s up?”

“They’ll meet us at the airport. If I don’t show up with Lydia in twenty minutes, she won’t be the only member of our family arrested this week.”

Lydia flounced back downstairs, sporting a determined gleam in her eye. I figured she was already plotting her escape.

Well, Dad and the police could worry about that. I had enough to think about. As thoughts of Alex and Justin and Lydia swirled in my head, The Book leaped to my mind. The jury might still be out—so to speak—but it finally looked as if someone in the family hadn’t followed The Book.

For once in my life, I thanked God for Lydia.

After Lydia left, Mom managed to drag herself to work, but she got on the phone first thing Saturday morning. Within a few minutes, the phone clattered to the floor.

I looked up from my Sudoku book. “What happened? Lydia actually got on the plane this time?”

Ignoring me, Mom stomped to the stairs. “Jane, come down here!”

I finally heard the door creak open upstairs, followed by Jane’s slow footsteps on the stairs.

Mom jabbed a finger in Jane’s face. “Charlie Bingham is back in town.”

Jane’s face morphed from deathly white to bright pink, but she didn’t say anything.

“Tell me you didn’t get him to come back.” After more silence from Jane, Mom tilted her head to one side, studying Jane. “I believe Charlie bought a company here.” Which meant Mom was back to her old Google tricks. “Perhaps he’s just in town for that, and he’ll leave again.”

Jane opened her mouth, then shut it. Finally, Mom went back to the kitchen, muttering to herself. I trailed Jane back upstairs and found her on her bed. For the first time in her life, smoking a cigarette.

“Don’t look at me like that, Liz.” She sucked in on the cigarette and starting coughing. “Oh, God. I thought it was supposed to be so relaxing to smoke.”

“Only if you’re in the habit.” I snatched the cigarette out of her mouth, dropped it into a stale can of soda on my desk, and wrenched open the window to clear out the stench. “Where did you get that, anyway?”

“Lydia’s room. Where else?”

I rolled my eyes.

She shrugged. “It’s just that Charlie can’t set foot in Minnesota without Mom wondering what he’s going to do to me, as if The Book is coming true. I mean, what a joke.”

I frowned as I plunked down, cross-legged, on the floor. Ready or not, the moment had arrived to talk about Charlie. Even if I had to pin Jane to her bed until she admitted what was up. “Is it such a joke? To you?”

She folded her hands in her lap. “Didn’t I say it was?”

“You’re talking to me. The girl who saw Charlie last weekend.” When she still didn’t look at me, I kept going. “And who heard about the whole thing.”

Jane’s head practically snapped off her neck.

“What did he say?”

I shrugged. “He’s tried to call you, but you won’t speak to him.” I watched Jane’s eyes widen, and I knew she was trying to come up with another big fat lie. Which didn’t hurt at all. Not. “That’s not how you explained it to me.”

Jane nibbled on her lower lip for a moment. “I couldn’t tell you, Liz. It was so embarrassing.”

“I thought you told me the embarrassing part.” I could still picture the Victoria’s Secret dressing room on Valentine’s Day. “You said you, uh, did it with Charlie.”

Jane’s face went hot pink, totally clashing with her peach top. “It got worse. I ran into Stephanie the next day, and I just knew she knew. And she kept laughing. Then I tried calling Charlie a couple of times that afternoon, but he had Stephanie return my call. Both times.”

“Maybe she did it without his knowledge. Maybe she was pissed, or wanted to bust you guys up, or she was jerking you around.”

“She wouldn’t do that, Liz.” A sigh escaped Jane. In a pathetic sort of way. “Besides, Charlie never called me.”

“He said he did.”

“A couple of days later.”

My jaw dropped. This whole mess erupted because he took a whopping two days to call her?

“He could’ve been tied up with work. Charlie runs a huge company.”

“But this was huge.” Jane’s chin wobbled. “To me. So I asked Dad to change my cell-phone number—” Oh, God. “—but he refused. He said he might even take back the Prius.”

I blinked. “Dad? The guy who let Lydia run wild in Wisconsin Dells?”

Jane shrugged. “He said he had higher standards for me.”

“But...why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you never do anything stupid.” She hiccuped on a tiny sob. “Because you’d be disappointed in me.”

I’d done a million stupid things around Alex. I won’t even think about Justin. “Oh, Jane.”

“Did, um, Alex say anything about me?”

I laughed, hoping to take the edge off this conversation. “He actually thought you were stalking Charlie. He obviously didn’t know Charlie was the one trying so hard all this time to talk to you.”

Jane’s face went stark white.

“C’mon, Jane, it’s a joke.” From the look on her face, she didn’t agree. “Really. Alex is just being a guy. He thinks every girl Charlie meets wants to hit on him, poor baby, just because he has a hot company.”

She didn’t say anything. At all.

“I didn’t say I thought so. You asked what Alex said.”

She glanced at me, then curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth on the edge of her bed. “I was just so sure he was...the one.”

I frowned. “Who? Alex?”

She rolled her eyes. “Charlie. Alex was right. I tried to run into Charlie, first here, and then in New York.”

“So? He obviously liked you. A lot. And we’ve all done stupid things with guys we like.” I hadn’t done it much since ninth grade, but Jane had always been guy crazy. With Jane, guys didn’t exactly mind.

She went still. “Liz, I’m not kidding. Alex was right. I finally realized how stupid I looked in New York only when Stephanie started laughing at me.”

“Stephanie is a bitch.”

Jane flinched. Some things hadn’t changed. “This isn’t about Stephanie, Liz. It’s about me. I did it, and I can’t take it back, but I can leave Charlie alone now. I plan to.”

“What if he doesn’t have the same plan?”

Jane smiled wryly. “You don’t give up, do you?”

The real question was, would Charlie?

By Tuesday evening, Jane hadn’t heard from Charlie. I decided to go over to his condo and ring the buzzer until I got some answers.

Jane stopped me as I sat on the stairs, my running shoes and a pair of socks beside me. “You’re not.”

“Not what?” I looked the picture of innocence, not to mention totally grubby. My Ramones T-shirt had holes under the arms and my running shorts were worn out in the butt.

Jane waited until I finished lacing up, then walked outside with me, shutting the front door behind us. “I wish Mom would quit warning me about Charlie. It’s like—”

She broke off just as I caught the approach of Charlie—and Alex!—along the sidewalk, only a couple of houses away.

“Shit!” I hissed between my teeth as I grabbed the front door handle. “Later!”

I slipped inside, leaving the door open and Jane alone on the front step, probably quivering down to her knees.

“Liz, get back here!”

“Not in this outfit.”

I admit I made no sense, since I’d planned to trot over to Charlie’s condo like this only a minute ago. Somehow, I hadn’t counted on Alex being in town. As the guys started up our front sidewalk, I sprinted for the stairs.

Making everything worse, Mom’s radar must’ve felt the guys arriving, too. Halfway up the stairs, I saw Mom wipe her hands on a dish towel as she muttered something vulgar, then tossed the towel over her shoulder. It maybe went five feet.

I glanced down at myself and dashed into my room, slamming the door after me.

Full panic mode hit. I stared blindly at my closet, whipped open drawer after drawer of clothes. I just couldn’t let Alex see me like this, even though he’d seen me exactly like this—well, except for the underarm holes—a million times.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I gulped in deep breaths as I yanked open my underwear drawer and started rummaging. Bingo. I pulled out two more bras I’d bought at Victoria’s Secret. One a whisper-thin nothing of black lace, the other a Holy Moley push-up bra in red satin that turned my almost-B cup into a C-plus.

After a moment’s frantic hesitation, I tossed the black lace back in the drawer and opted for the Lydia approach.

I stripped off my clothes and strapped myself into my war gear. But what shirt? Pants? Shorts? I shook my head at the miniskirt in my closet. I might be able to get away with one in front of Aunt Molly and Uncle Ed, but I couldn’t pull it off in front of my family. They knew me too well. Argh.

The voices downstairs grew louder, and someone called my name. Jane, I think, sounding strangled. I glanced down at the missiles sticking straight out from my chest, wondering how Stephanie Bingham had the guts—or the boobs—to pull it off. Not that I wanted to be like Stephanie. I wanted to be like Liz Bennet, only with boobs.

Someone else shouted my name, and I frantically grabbed a low-cut blue knit top I’d recently bought at the Gap and a pair of tight jeans. I hadn’t shaved my legs since getting home, and I didn’t want Alex focusing on that.

I slapped my forehead. God, I sounded like an idiot. I almost stripped off the bra, but I was out of time. So I pulled on the top, shimmied into the jeans, and didn’t bother glancing in the mirror. I knew I looked stupid and way too much like Lydia, and look where she’d ended up.

I swung open the door and tried to saunter casually down the stairs, even though the jeans were riding hard up my butt. Every time I yanked down the hem of my shirt, my boobs popped out the top. Even though that was theoretically the point of this bra, I wasn’t exactly ready for anyone to notice me.

Fat chance. When I made it to the bottom step, everyone turned to stare. As my face flushed hot, I prayed that no one in my family would say a word—talk about a miracle—and that Alex and Charlie, at least, wouldn’t think anything was weird.

Alex just stood there, staring at my chest.

As Charlie blinked, Jane bit her lip and glanced down the front of her own shirt. Mom was stunned speechless. But when Mary started to say something, Jane swatted her.

Feeling desperate, I aimed for breezy. “Hey Charlie. Hey Alex. Long time no see.”

Alex’s gaze finally moved to my eyes. “Liz.”

He didn’t say another word. I knew I looked like a hooker; Alex’s perusal of my boobs said enough. The Alex I’d seen in Connecticut was gone, and the old Alex returned. In all his stuck-up glory.

Cat giggled, breaking the awkward moment, and Charlie’s head snapped upward, turning immediately to Jane.

And Mom finally found her tongue. Unfortunately.

“I thought you’d left Woodbury permanently, Charlie.” As she said it, Mom sliced a cold look first at Charlie, then Alex. She clearly wasn’t thrilled to see the guys, which had to make Alex question his stalker theory. Even if, okay, he’d been right about Jane. As it turned out.

I cut in. “Will you be here long?”

“A few days, maybe more. I’m not too sure of things right now.” Charlie darted a quick glance at Jane, who was looking at everyone but Charlie.

When no one spoke, Cat giggled again. “Liz, why are you all dressed up like that? Were you going out?”

Alex looked startled, maybe guessing I had a date and it wasn’t with him. The thought wasn’t necessarily a bad one—I saw how jealous Alex got in Fargo when I flirted with Patrick—but I didn’t know where Cat’s line of questioning would go, and Mary looked ready to pounce.

Jane grabbed my hand and yanked me through the cluster at the door. “Liz and I were planning to go out for a while.” Her eyes went wide and I nodded. “But if you guys would like to join us, that’d be okay.”

Alex and Charlie glanced at each other and followed us outside. Cat trailed after, begging to come along.

“No!” Jane and I said it in unison, trying not to burst out laughing until we were safely away. The front door was still open, and three sets of ears were straining to hear anything we might say.

Not that anyone was saying anything.

Charlie and Jane, both crimson, just stared at each other. Alex stared at me, so I kept glancing at my bare feet. In our rush to get outside, I’d completely forgotten that I didn’t have any shoes on. But I wasn’t going back in the house.

No one mentioned my outfit, thank God, but I felt utterly stupid. I crossed my arms, which only pushed my boobs higher, as if they were lunging for freedom. So I uncrossed them. And stood on one foot, then the other, if only to make everyone forget my mutant-growth boobs.

Charlie spoke first. “Do you want to go out to dinner?”

Alex shook his head. “They can’t. Liz would have to wear shoes.”

I reached out to slug his arm but pulled back at the last instant, realizing that people don’t slug Alex. They probably either shake his hand or sue him. But Alex grabbed my hand and held on an instant, stared at me, then let it go.

He is so weird.

Jane murmured something in a low voice to Charlie, who murmured back. Alex didn’t say anything more, and I kept staring at my toes, wondering if I could get a refund on the new bra.

It obviously wasn’t working.