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Darcy held the door to the bowling alley open for Charlie, who thanked him as she walked inside. She was followed by Kit and Elisabeth, then Jack and Chazz. Darcy found himself feeling pleased that Charlie was waiting for him when he walked in, despite the fact that everyone else had continued into the building.
"There's Sean!" Charlie called, pointing to a lane on the other side of the building. "I wonder how he managed to sneak out of Centralia."
Darcy was barely paying attention to what she was saying, however, as he was gazing about the place. This bowling alley was strange to him, but the smells were similar to those that he'd gone to as a kid. The sounds were familiar, too. Darcy expected his father to appear any moment now, bowling ball in hand, dark blue eyes not unlike his own smiling down at him, asking, "Ready for a game, son?"
"Darcy?"
Darcy snapped back to attention to find the green eyes of Charlie Lucas smiling at him.
"Yes?"
"We're holding up the works."
"Oh, right. Of course. Lead on, Miss Lucas." He held out his hand.
Charlie hesitated, as though uncertain of what she should do with it. She tentatively reached out and took hold of it, her fingers lacing with his. He followed her lead to the counter, where he asked for size ten shoes and hoped against hope that they might not be too hideous-looking.
No such luck. The shoes were bright orange with purple stripes. Charlie took a pair of similar shoes and grimaced.
"Where the hell do they get the material to make these things?" she wondered aloud. "It's like they deliberately choose the ugliest colors known to man."
"One of the drawbacks to bowling, I suppose," Darcy replied, thinking of his father's custom-made black bowling shoes. He picked up his hideous ones and went to pick out a ball. He found a black one and was about to pick it up when Charlie gave him a warning.
"Double check the size of the finger holes," she said. "Some of them are smaller than others." To prove her point, she picked up a hot pink ball and tried to stick her fingers in with no luck.
Darcy put his fingers in the holes of the ball he'd chosen. The holes were almost too big, which he figured was a good thing. He hefted the ball to make sure the weight was okay, and found that it was just right. He walked over to the lanes where everyone else was waiting. Sean was feeding information into the computer of one lane, his wife Rachel into the other.
"Did my average improve after last week?" Charlie asked as she set her ball down and slipped off her shoes.
"No," Chazz and Jack said at the same time.
Charlie gave them a dirty look. "Wait a minute. I bowl a one seventy-two last week and that doesn't improve my average just a little?"
"Based on the prior three billion ninety-sixes you've bowled, it moved up a few percentage points and that's all," Sean replied. "Darcy, okay for you to bowl first?"
"Uh...that's fine." Darcy took the seat next to Charlie. He slipped off his shoes and, with a small look of disgust, reluctantly put his feet in the bowling shoes. If bowling was to become a regular activity for him, he was going to have to invest in normal-looking shoes. "Is there anything I need to know?"
Chazz, Jack and Sean looked at each other, frowning. Darcy could almost read their minds-they thought he had no clue how to bowl.
"Do we play for money or drinks or anything like that?" he added quickly.
Looks of relief all around.
"We play for bragging rights, mostly," Jack told him. "But the losers do cough up a round of drinks for the winners. I hope you made enough in tips today, Charlie."
"You'd better hope your paycheck's a big one, Jack," she retorted.
"Who usually wins?" Darcy asked.
"We do," everyone said in unison.
Darcy smiled. "About even, then?"
Charlie nodded. "Yes." She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "But I suspect that they tank at times so we'll win."
Darcy chuckled as he finished tying his shoes.
Sean finished with the information and turned to Darcy. "You're up."
"Good luck," Charlie said, giving his hand a quick squeeze. Darcy picked up his ball and walked over to his lane. He stood a few steps away from the line, contemplating the pins at the other end of the alley.
"If you're just gonna stand there all day, can I go first?" Kit asked. He turned to see her standing there, holding her ball at her side.
"Oh, yes, go ahead." Darcy took a few more steps back and watched Kit move herself to the right, walk up to the line, then throw the ball. The ball headed for the gutter on the left.
"Damn," Kit hissed. "Hooked it."
Darcy studied the ball in his right hand, then moved slightly to his right. He strode up to the line and let the ball go.
He watched as the ball started on the right, then slowly started hooking to the left, hitting the front pin and seven others. He had the two on the far right remaining.
Kit retrieved her ball and went again, this time hitting five pins. When Darcy's turn came up, he stood to the left of center and, with calm deliberation, threw the ball with enough accuracy to pick up the spare.
"We're in trouble!" Kit yelled to the women as the men cheered. They raised their hands to Darcy when he walked back. Darcy had no idea what they were doing and raised his hand to them in return.
Charlie and Jack were next. Each knocked down seven pins. Rachel and Chazz followed them, both of them getting a strike. When Chazz returned to the seats, he slapped hands with Sean and Jack, then extended his hand to Darcy. Darcy, flushing red because he realized that they had wanted to do the same to him just minutes earlier and he'd just waved to them, slapped it.
"Don't worry about it," Charlie whispered to him.
"No fraternizing with the enemy or you have to pay for all their drinks if they win," Elisabeth told her as she held her hands over the vent.
Sean went before her, but only managed to knock down one pin.
"Nice one," she said sweetly. "You should do that more often."
The other women snickered as Sean frowned at Elisabeth. She calmly ignored him and got a strike.
"And that is the way we do that," Elisabeth said, licking her finger and marking an imaginary tally in the air.
"Yeah, keep it up. Just wait until you see the cleaning list I'm gonna have for you at work tomorrow," Sean muttered as he went again. He knocked down six more pins for a total of seven.
As the game progressed, Darcy found himself remembering more and more of his father's hints and tips about bowling. As a result, his game was going quite well in second place. Sean improved from his first frame and was currently the top scorer, with Elisabeth a respectable third.
"Looks like I'm gonna be enjoying a tequila shot on you, Charlie," Jack teased as the tenth frame started with the women well behind.
"Hey, we haven't factored in the handicap yet," Rachel informed him, tossing her brilliant gold hair over her shoulder. "We're doing well enough to win."
"In that case, I think we should include Charlie's high score from last week in factoring what that's going to be," Chazz said.
Charlie gasped. "You said you'd factored it in and it didn't matter!"
"Well, it didn't...until you brought up the handicap." Jack smiled sweetly at her, dimples showing, eyes crinkling.
"I'm gonna kill you two," Charlie said, wagging her index finger at him and Chazz. "Since you didn't include it to start the game, it doesn't matter now."
Elisabeth, Rachel and Kit applauded. Kit picked up her ball and promptly bowled a strike to loud cheers from her teammates. On her next two tries, she knocked down eight pins total and managed to finish at eighty-seven.
"That's up a bit for me," Kit said, pleased. "Next game, I'll do even better."
"Is it a best-of-three contest, with the losers buying drinks at the end?" Darcy asked as he picked up his ball.
"No, losers of each game pay up," Rachel said.
"High scorer gets a free drink from the low scorer," Sean added.
"So of course, when we leave here, Sean's practically falling down drunk because he always blows the rest of us out of the water." Rachel smiled at her husband. "Thank God I'm the one who drives us here."
"She exaggerates."
"I do not."
"Actually, he might not turn out to be the top scorer in this game," Charlie said. "Darcy can catch him in this frame." She beamed at him with something akin to pride in her eyes.
"Really?" Darcy took a look at the scores. He was at one ninety-nine, Sean at two eleven. "It's a long shot at best."
"And it may not be in your best interest to beat the boss," Jack added. "Do you remember that time I managed to beat him, Charlie? He had me cleaning the oven for a week."
"Seriously?" Darcy asked.
"It was due for a cleaning anyway. That you happened to clean it the week you beat me was just a coincidence," Sean said.
"Sure it was."
"What a shocking abuse of power," Darcy commented. "It looks like I'll have to throw gutter balls from here on out." He didn't do that, exactly, but he only knocked down nine pins and finished at two hundred and eight, making Sean the automatic winner.
"Don't worry. You still bowled better than the rest of us," Charlie said glumly. She was on course to bowl her usual ninety-six.
Rachel finished at one forty, Chazz at one seventeen. Jack bowled a strike followed by two gutter balls to end up at one hundred and ten, which was apparently well off his usual game from the disgusted look he gave the screen above his head when the final score came up. Charlie managed to top out at a hundred, leaving Elisabeth and Sean to finish. Elisabeth finished at one sixty-five, while Sean grannied his last two balls straight to the gutter to finish, to the laughter of everyone.
After the handicap had been included, the women had soundly defeated the men.
"I think we should do away with this system and determine the winners based solely on the ability of the players on any given night," Jack muttered. "You don't see this sort of thing in football, do you?"
"They probably should," Chazz said.
"I can just see it now. Before the opening kick-off, the Rams would always be down at least ten points," Charlie added. "By the way, Jack, I'll take an amaretto sour. Are you writing this down?"
Jack let his finger do the talking for him as he took the drink orders of everyone else. "Okay, guys, cough it up," he muttered, holding his hand out for money. When he had what he figured would be enough, he started to walk to the bar. He stopped before he'd gone too far, turning back and calling, "Hey, Kit, where's your money for Sean's drink!"
"Damn. I was hoping he'd forget that," Kit muttered, reaching underneath her seat for her large purse.
Darcy couldn't help gaping at it. "Is that a purse or a suitcase?" he asked.
Kit didn't even look up from her search. "I wonder the same thing myself sometimes." She dug out her wallet, opened it, and pulled out three bucks. "He gets the cheapest beer they've got back there."
"Like hell!" Sean protested. "Keystone Light, just like I ordered."
Chazz and Charlie cleared the scores from the first game and started up a new one.
"How long have you guys been doing this?" Darcy asked politely as they waited for the drinks to arrive.
"God, how long has it been? Two, three years?" Elisabeth answered. "Something like that. How long have you been here, Sean?"
"Two years last month."
"Then it's been three. It used to be Chazz, Jack, Jenna, Charlie and me, but then Kit came back to work full-time and joined us. Jenna moved away. J.P. bowled with us for a while, but then he got kicked out of his parents' house and couldn't afford it."
"Not on the tips he makes," Kit mumbled, shaking a cigarette out of pack and lighting it.
"He'd do better if he wasn't such a jerk," Charlie muttered, not forgetting their argument earlier that day.
"Hey, can I bum a cigarette off you?" Elisabeth asked. "I was in such a rush to get here that I left my pack at home."
"That's why the good Lord invented vending machines," Kit replied.
"Do you know how much those damn things are here? Four bucks for a generic pack of cigarettes. If I spend that much money on cigarettes, they'd better be Marlboros. I swear I'll pay you back. You know me, Kit. My word's gold."
"Okay, okay." Kit handed Elisabeth the pack. Elisabeth greedily grabbed a cigarette and lit it. "Why were you in such a rush to get here? You had the whole day off."
"I took a nap and slept through my alarm. It went off at three-thirty. I took a look at it, went, 'Why is my alarm ringing?' and shut it off. If Charlie hadn't called to remind me, I wouldn't be here tonight."
"Should we be keeping our distance from you?" Chazz asked. "If you have some lethal disease, I don't want to catch it."
"Yes. I have the deadly sleeping sickness. Come and give me a kiss, Charles!" Elisabeth leaped out of her chair and tried to reach Chazz, who allowed himself to be kissed on the cheek.
"I can think of worse ways to die," Chazz said.
"What about better ones?" Sean asked.
Chazz gave this some thought. "Yeah, that too. If Jenna were to kiss me, for instance."
Darcy noticed Elisabeth and Charlie exchanging glances. "Who is Jenna?" he asked.
"My sister," Elisabeth told him.
"Jenna Bennet?" he questioned.
"It's actually Jennifer. My mother named her to spite a cousin of hers she despised who was pregnant at the same time. Mom gave birth first, so my sister was Jennifer Ann. The cousin gave birth two weeks later, and, undeterred, named her daughter Jennifer Lynn. My mother was so upset that she refused to call my sister by her real name and started calling her Jenna. She said she only named her Jennifer because my father insisted on it."
Darcy looked at Charlie, remembering her fondness for the stories behind names. He was beginning to see why.
"So you like Jenna?" Darcy asked Chazz, observing Elisabeth and Charlie's reactions.
"She's okay," Jack said, returning with the drinks on a tray.
"Okay? That's all you can say about the most beautiful girl in this town?" Chazz looked outraged. "You should see her, Darcy. She's got beautiful dark hair and these amazing eyes. They've got these gold flecks in them-"
"They're hazel," Elisabeth told him as she took her drink-a plain Sprite-from Jack. "Chazz, if you like her so much, why haven't you ever asked her out on a date?"
Chazz greedily guzzled half of his beer before setting it down and shrugging. "Never got around to it, I guess. I was too busy or she was, but I was thinking that maybe I'd ask her out now that I'm out of school."
"I thought you were gonna go to summer school," Kit said.
Chazz shook his head. "Decided against it. I need the money. So, do you think Jenna would go out with me if I asked?"
Darcy was getting the impression from the way the young woman in question's relatives looked at each other that it was a distinct possibility.
"You won't know until you ask," Elisabeth replied. "Are we ready to start again?"
"I am," Darcy said, taking a quick drink of his scotch and soda.
The rest of the evening was spent playing three more games. The men won the second and third only to be defeated in the last game when Charlie bowled an uncharacteristic one fifty-five. Darcy's pride in her score exceeded his pride at his own.
After a final drink, the group split up and Darcy drove Charlie home. Neither of them said much on the way, as Charlie looked like she was about to drift off to sleep at any moment. When he pulled to a stop in his parking spot, she stirred.
"Hi," she murmured sleepily.
"Hi."
"I didn't start snoring, did I?"
"Only a little," he teased. "Um...Charlie?"
"Yeah?"
Darcy took her hand in his. "Tonight...was the most fun I've had since I was a kid. It really was."
"I'm glad," Charlie replied. "I get the feeling that there hasn't been enough fun in your life."
"There has been..." Darcy was about to say he enjoyed his life a great deal, but he knew it was a lie. "There has been a lack of it, yes."
"Why is that?"
Darcy debated what to say. "I wish I knew the answer to that," he finally said. He let go of her hand to raise his hand to her cheek. "You know, you're very pretty." Charlie was about to protest, so he continued, "Especially when you smile. You're almost beautiful when you smile."
"I wish I could believe that."
Darcy leaned across the space between them and tried to kiss her. He was surprised when she pulled away abruptly, hitting her head on the closed window.
"Ow!" she gasped.
"I'm sorry!" Darcy exclaimed. "Are you hurt?"
"Just stings a little, that's all." Charlie put a hand to the back of her head. "I should be apologizing. I shouldn't have done that. It's just that...that..."
"Just what?"
Charlie looked down at her lap and mumbled something. When he didn't say anything, she repeated her statement. "I've never been kissed," she said so softly that he almost didn't hear her again.
"Oh."
"Well, you see, when I was in school, I was so shy and plain and no one wanted to go out with me except this one guy who called me up on a dare. The only guy I ever went out with was a blind date my best friend fixed me up on. The guy got so drunk I doubt he even remembers my name. Then I got to college and...and you know what happened next."
"Right."
"So...you can see why I'm a little nervous about this."
"It's understandable. How about this? I'll ask your permission in the future."
"Permission?"
"Yes. For instance...Miss Lucas, would it be all right if I kissed you right now?"
Charlie was smiling. "I suppose so, but only if you promise not to laugh if I make a complete mess of it."
"You won't. I promise you that." He took her face in his hands again and leaned across, giving her a very soft, gentle kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, he saw that Charlie's eyes were closed. "You did great, Charlie."
Charlie opened her eyes. "Thank you." She opened her car door. "See you on Thursday for dinner and a movie?"
"Sure."
"Great. Um...good night." Charlie waved and shut the door.
Darcy leaned back in his car seat, killing the engine of the car with a small smile on his face.
After bowling, Jack invited Elisabeth out for a drink at Randy's Landing. Elisabeth figured it would be a good idea to give Charlie and Darcy some privacy, although she doubted Charlie would even kiss the guy, and agreed.
The two of them sat on barstools in the dimly-lit bar and placed their drink orders-a Bud Light for Jack, Sprite for Elisabeth.
"What? No tequila shot?" he questioned as Elisabeth paid for her drink. "I thought you never entered a bar without having at least one real drink."
"Not tonight. I've done enough vomiting for one week. If I wake up tomorrow hung over, I'll just start up all over again and Charlie will threaten to ship me to her doctor. I'm not going to see a doctor because I had a hangover on the heels of the flu."
"You are so obsessed with not having to go see a doctor," Jack chuckled before taking a drink from his bottle of beer.
"Yeah, well, I had my fill of doctors when my father died. Enough said." Elisabeth sipped her drink. "Do you think Chazz is really going to call Jenna?"
"He's no doubt gathering all his courage as we speak, staring at the telephone and wondering how to get past your mother."
"You think he's scared to call her?"
Jack nodded. "He was just feeding us crap when he said that he hadn't asked her out because it never seemed to be the right time. I think he's been just as interested in her as she's been in him all this time."
"Why didn't you say something before? You could've put both of them out of their misery!" Elisabeth exclaimed.
"I only thought it, El. I didn't know for certain. Besides, up until about seven months ago, Chazz had a girlfriend-remember Josie?"
"I remember Josie." An unpleasant thought occurred to Elisabeth. "You don't think Jenna's the reason why he broke up with her, do you?"
"Well, although Chazz won't admit it, I think Josie broke up with him, but it had nothing to do with your sister. Breaking up with Josie only allowed him to finally admit that he was interested in Jenna."
"I hope he does call," Elisabeth said, taking another drink of her soda. "Although it is going to mean we can't tease Jenna about it anymore."
"Aah, don't worry. You can still tease her about Chazz now that she'll be dating him. In fact, you may have more to tease her about."
Elisabeth laughed. "You may be right."
Jack took another drink of his beer, then set the bottle on the bar. "So, was Charlie happy that you were polite to Darcy?" he asked.
Elisabeth had been about to take another drink but instead slammed her glass down. "I didn't ask her before they left." She stared at the glass with a frown. "Have I really acted that badly toward him?"
Jack's mouth twisted and he didn't answer her right away. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, El, but yes. And it hasn't just been to Darcy."
Elisabeth had been about to defend herself when Jack's last comment stopped her short. "What do you mean?"
"It's just that ever since you lost Newton..." Jack toyed with the beer bottle. "We understand, really we do. Charlie said-"
"I haven't been bad to Charlie, have I?"
"She's about the only one you haven't been mean to, and that's probably because she pays half the rent on your apartment." Jack paused again. "Before you went to Newton, you were fun to work with. You had your moments-who doesn't-but whenever a bad situation came up, you were able to shrug it off and make a joke out of it. 'Customer complaint? Give 'em a voucher for next time.' 'Caro being a complete witch? Screw her. Her opinion's not worth listening to.' 'Soda machine broken down again? Typical Planet Earth Pizza machine. Give it a couple of kicks for me next time you go out there.' 'Busy? Let's work out butts off, get everything right, but make sure to have a little fun while we're doing it.' You were the one who first got everyone calling pepperoni, mushroom and sausage pizza the PMS Special. You were the one who put lumps of coal into the Gossip Sisters' stockings last Christmas and suggested that we buy Bubba a copy of Managing for Dummies after Sean vetoed buying him a gift basket from Bath and Body Works. You were funny and outrageous. Then you went to Newton, and you got involved with George Wickham."
"I wish everyone would stop saying that like we had anything resembling a relationship," Elisabeth said, but without her usual acidity.
"We say that because the two events are linked. You got involved with George almost as soon as you left Effingham. You broke up the night before he took over Newton. When you came back, you were...I don't want to say bitter, but angry. Everyone noticed it."
Elisabeth blinked away the tears that threatened to rise. Her voice was heavy, but she tried to bluff her way through it by saying, "You know, for someone who was in and out of my love life within two months, George Wickham seems to have had quite an impact."
"It's because you've known him longer than that, and you've been forced to deal with him since. That's why they don't recommend dating a co-worker, you know. If the relationship ends, one or the other becomes uncomfortable working with the other and eventually the store loses a good employee."
"What if it loses a bad employee?"
"Planet Earth Pizza never gets that lucky. It's always the good worker who leaves." Jack reached out his hand to cover hers. "El, with the exception of the Gossip Sisters and Bubba and J.P., we care about you. It's because we do that we've put up with you these past seven weeks or so. Charlie's made a lot of excuses for you, but then she understands what you're going through, having been through it herself. But this thing with Darcy...that was going too far, but even then we excused it because you were sick."
Elisabeth's eyes welled up with enough tears that they trickled down her cheeks. "There is no excuse for the way I've behaved," she said, gasping. "I'm sorry, Jack! I'm so sorry!"
Jack put his arms around her as she cried. A couple of the other customers glanced their way but one look from Jack told them to mind their own business. The bartender glared at them but Jack refused to be deterred.
He knew, as did Elisabeth, that for all her protestations to the contrary, George Wickham had hurt her worse than any other man had before. Because she'd refused to admit it, she'd been unable to move on, which had caused her troubling behavior.
She cried for five minutes before pulling away from Jack. He asked for some napkins and handed her one to dry her face and blow her nose. Once Elisabeth was somewhat composed again, she whispered, "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Elisabeth took a few sips from her drink before frowning and saying, "I need a beer." She motioned to the bartender to bring her a Bud Light. When her drink arrived, she took a hefty drink and sighed in satisfaction. "I needed that. I really did."
"You looked like you did," Jack agreed.
"I could've handled either losing the store or breaking up with George if they hadn't happened at the same time and I hadn't lost the store to him. I would've preferred to break up with George if I'd had a choice."
"Of course."
"When Sean handed me the keys to the Newton store I felt as though I'd finally arrived in the world," Elisabeth said, her eyes misting as she remembered that night. "Before that, I...this is going to sound silly."
"Not to me, it isn't. Tell me."
"It's stupid, but I have always compared myself to Jenna and found myself lacking. I'm not as pretty as she is-"
"You're just as pretty as she is, in a different way."
Elisabeth fixed him with a look. "You know how you hate being called nice?"
"Yeah."
"That's how I feel when people say that I'm just as pretty as Jenna, just in a different way. What other way is there to be pretty than pretty?"
"I...don't know. We're getting off the topic. You were saying you were lacking when compared to Jenna."
"Yeah. She's pretty, she's smart, she's got a master's degree...she could have any guy in the world if she wanted him. I was lucky I finished high school. I have a certificate in cosmetology that I only use to cut my friends' hair. I worked as a waitress here for so long before I became a manager. When I finally got my own store, it was like I'd finally come into my own. I thought I was doing okay...I thought it was permanent. I thought they'd give me longer than five months to get that store up to where it was before Willoughby ran it into the ground. But they didn't. And when I got demoted back here, it was like they were saying I wasn't good enough and I would never amount to anything."
"George didn't help matters any."
Elisabeth shook her head. "I've heard him at the managers' meetings since then. He takes credit for how well it's going now. If our roles were reversed, I'm sure I'd have just as much luck as he would in that store. Things were going well except for the numbers...and because I couldn't produce a miracle and make things right fast enough for them, I was out and George got all the glory from the work I did."
"If it makes you feel any better, I've heard that about half of the staff have quit over there."
"Yeah, I got a call about a week ago from one of the waitresses there. She was wanting to know if we were hiring because George was such a jerk to work for she couldn't take it. I told her to put in for a transfer."
"Sean won't like that. You know how he feels about poaching employees from other stores."
Elisabeth shrugged. "It's either that or she'll quit altogether. What was I supposed to tell her? No?"
"Good point."
She took another drink of her beer. "I know why I reacted as badly as I did to Darcy. It's because he acted so arrogantly when he came in last week, then he was hanging out with George when I got home that night. It didn't make the best of impressions on me. He drives an expensive car, wears expensive clothes-"
"Sounds to me like you were feeling jealousy, not dislike."
"It's obvious, even now, that this isn't where he'd be if he could choose any spot on earth to be dropped on."
"That's true, but El, we all think that about the store." Jack ordered another beer. "You know, there's something that doesn't quite click about him. I don't think he's as bad as we thought at first. Obviously he's not, because he resisted Caroline and went out with Charlie. But there's something more to him."
"What makes you say that?"
"He seems unsure of himself. I think he wraps himself up in arrogance because he's shy. I think the arrogance is a façade."
"You think he's a poseur."
"No, I don't think that. If he were, Charlie wouldn't be with him. She despises that sort of thing. If underneath the arrogance he weren't a nice guy, she wouldn't have gone out with him."
"You're so sure of that?"
"Hey, she's your cousin. What do you think?"
Elisabeth gave that some thought. "I guess you're right-about Charlie. About Darcy, you're gonna have to do some convincing."
"Okay, look at the way he was tonight, for example. He looked like he was out of place, didn't he? Like he'd never bowled in his life. What did he bowl? A two-oh-eight."
"Maybe he read a book on bowling."
"You don't bowl that well from reading a book! No, it was obvious that someone taught him the game, and taught him well."
"His father, maybe," Elisabeth mused.
Jack's eyebrows rose. "You know something about him, El?"
"Only something Charlie mentioned. She said he hadn't bowled in seventeen years because that's how long his dad had been dead, or something like that."
"See? It's something like that which makes me think that he's not what he seems to be. I'm not saying that in a bad way. He has money-you just pointed that out. But somewhere behind all that, I think he comes from a similar background as us. Maybe he inherited a mint or he made a fortune on the stock exchange-"
"At twenty-seven? Isn't that a bit young to be a self-made millionaire?"
"You don't know that he isn't any more than I do."
"Good point." Elisabeth took another drink. "So you think the arrogant act is to hide his low-class roots?"
Jack thought about that. "I don't think it's an act with him. I just think there's more to him that what you've seen so far. Maybe you were right last week when you said he's a spy for the company. Maybe he's the owner's son and he's here to learn the business from the bottom up."
"Catherine de Bourgh doesn't have any children, and thank God for it. Did Charlie ever tell you about the one time she had the great misfortune to meet our esteemed leader?"
"Yes, she did. Bubba was toadying to the woman the entire time she was here, Sean was trying to play it cool and make everything seem normal, Chazz was his usual self-God help us-and the only comment the woman made was about a spot Charlie didn't even know she had on her apron."
"Exactly. I doubt she would ever send a child of hers to work at a place like Planet Earth Pizza. Her idea of the 'bottom' would be a mailroom in New York. But he could be a spy." Elisabeth toyed with her beer bottle. "But he wasn't so bad tonight. And he is a good bowler."
"All is forgiven because he bowls well?"
"No. He wasn't on my team."
Jack chuckled and took a drink. "So you're not jealous of Charlie and Darcy?"
Elisabeth had been about to finish off her drink when she sputtered. "Whaaat? Jealous? Why the hell would I be jealous?"
Jack shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because you like Darcy. Maybe because you don't have a man and you're jealous because Charlie finally does."
"I wasn't aware you'd gotten a degree in psychotherapy, Dr. Middleton. How much do I owe you for the session?"
"You're lucky I don't charge you for all the good advice and support you get. You'd end up owing me for the rest of your life."
"Har har." Elisabeth finished her drink. "I've managed to tick Charlie off enough for one month. I don't think I need to make it worse by being jealous of her because she's got a man. Why don't you go be jealous in my place?"
"Sure," Jack deadpanned as Elisabeth laughed at her own suggestion.
Elisabeth walked into the apartment twenty minutes later with a smile on her face. As she had expected, Charlie was sitting in her chair, a thick novel entitled Lucy Sullivan is Getting Married clutched in her hands. She had a movie on, Dazed and Confused by the looks of it, but she was paying more attention to her book than to the movie.
"Don't you ever get confused when you do that?" Elisabeth asked, shutting the door.
"When I do what?" Charlie looked at her.
"You're reading a book and watching a movie at the same time. Don't your wires get crossed somewhere and you miss parts of the book or the movie?" Elisabeth flopped onto the couch.
Charlie shook her head. "The movie's just background noise. The book's the thing. I can't read a book in when there's no noise in the house because every little sound distracts me. The movie provides continuous noise and doesn't bother me at all."
"You could always put on a CD."
"I was in the mood for a movie." Charlie almost returned to her book when she stopped. "So where've you been?"
"I went out for a drink with Jack."
"Discussing me and Darcy?" Charlie gave her a dark look.
"No." A lie, but Charlie didn't need to know that. "We do have other things to talk about other than your love life, you know."
"So you were talking about us."
"Only in passing. We actually talked about what a witch I've been over the past two months, especially to Darcy. I've come to the decision that I'm a mature twenty-six-year-old woman and should act like it."
Charlie's eyebrows rose.
"And don't look at me that way," Elisabeth added.
"Sorry." Charlie quickly returned to her book.
"So..."
Charlie looked up again. "So what?"
"So what happened after we left the bowling alley?"
"He brought me home. What was supposed to happen?"
Elisabeth gave her cousin a wicked grin. "I can think of any number of answers to that question."
"Well, none of them would be correct, unless you were thinking of kissing."
"He kissed you!"
Charlie groaned. "Would you please remember that he lives just above our heads? He can hear you." Her expression changed to a smile. "And yes, he kissed me."
"How was it?" Elisabeth asked eagerly.
Charlie paused to think. "It was nice," she finally said.
"Nice?"
"Yeah. Nice."
"Not passionate, wild, crazy, heart-racing-"
"It was a first kiss, El! For God's sake, we weren't kissing like we were in a romance novel. It was nice, like it should be." Charlie looked at Elisabeth. "You were teasing, weren't you?"
"Of course I was. If you'd told me you thought it was dreadful, I would've given you pointers, but for a first kiss, 'nice' is pretty good."
"I thought so. Did everything go well with Jack?"
"Same as always. I did a lot of talking, he listened and then told me stuff I'll probably forget in the morning. Why do you ask?"
Charlie shrugged. "Just wondering."
Elisabeth frowned. "Wondering what?"
"Wondering if Chazz isn't the only one who needed some encouragement to make a play for the woman he's crazy about."
Elisabeth could only stare at Charlie in shock. "Jack-crazy about me?"
"One gets a sense about these things."
Elisabeth got off of the couch and started walking to her room. "I think you've been listening to the Gossip Sisters again. As a matter of fact, while we were having a drink tonight, Jack told me he's crazy about you."
"Really?" she heard Charlie ask skeptically.
Elisabeth turned back and peeked her head into the living room. "No, not really. But it's no stranger than the idea of him being crazy about me."
She narrowly escaped the pillow Charlie threw at her.
As Darcy wrestled with the lock on his apartment door, he heard the telephone start to ring. Just as he managed to get the wretched door open, his answering machine picked up.
"Hello. This is Darcy Williamson. Please leave a message."
After a moment, the machine beeped and he heard his sister's voice.
"Dare? Are you home? If you're home-"
Darcy lunged for the telephone and picked it up. "I'm here, Ginger. It's Darcy," he said quickly.
"Darcy! Hello!"
"Hello," he replied with a smile, reaching his foot over to kick the door shut. "How are you?"
"I'm just fine. Things are working out great at work and I've just put a down payment on this divine bed that was delivered yesterday."
"No more sleeping on the sofa?"
"Nope! Life is wonderful when you have an actual bed to fall into at night. Only twenty-nine more payments and it's officially mine. So how about you? Is work going well?"
"The work itself is exactly what I expected it to be-mindless drivel, catering to creeps I wouldn't speak to if I accidentally bumped into them in New York, dealing with co-workers who..." Darcy hesitated. He really didn't have a problem with most of them. He'd found them to be likable, except for J.P. and Bubba. Well, those two and the Gossip Sisters.
"Dealing with co-workers who what?"
"Well, some of them aren't so bad," he continued. "In fact, some of them are actually rather interesting."
"Darcy!" Ginger exclaimed.
"What? I only said some of them were interesting."
"Does one of them happen to be female and pretty?"
Darcy flushed and thanked God this was a telephone call. If Ginger could see his face at the moment, she'd know the truth.
"Many of them are female and pretty. That doesn't mean I was including them."
"Darcy..."
Who do you think you're kidding? Ginger knows the truth anyway.
"All right. There is this one young lady...her name is Charlotte."
"Charlotte?" Darcy could almost picture his sister wrinkling her nose.
"What's wrong with her name?"
"Nothing, not a thing. It's just that I've met a few Charlottes and-"
"Yes, but those were New York Charlottes. This one is from Effingham, Illinois and she's quite out of the ordinary...but in a good way." Darcy sat in his desk chair.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. We went bowling tonight and-"
"Wait a second, wait a second. I have to get a good picture of this. Darcy Williamson, bowling?"
"Hilarious, Ginger. Our father used to bowl, you know."
Silence. Then-"No, actually, I didn't know."
Darcy mentally cursed himself for his thoughtless remark. Ginger had only been two when their parents had died. She had no memories of them at all. Even worse, she had no pictures or mementos of any kind. Catherine had given their parents' clothing to Goodwill and had instructed that "useless" personal items be thrown out.
"No! That was my father's! You can't throw that away, Aunt Catherine!""Don't be silly, Darcy. It's only a...a...what is this, pray tell?"
"It's Dad's bowling ball! He said it was his special ball and that I could have it someday."
Catherine gave the heavy black ball a look of disdain before closing the bag and saying, "You won't need anything of that sort now, young man."
"But I want it! It's mine! It was my dad's and now he's dead and it's mine!" Darcy tried to pick up the bag but it was too heavy for him. He managed to drag it ten feet before Catherine plucked it out of his grasp. "Nooo!"
"Darcy Ambrose Williamson, you stop this unruly behavior right this moment or you're going to regret it!" she thundered. But it was to no avail. Darcy was only ten, and his father had been his entire world. Losing him, along with his mother, was bad enough. But to be forced to give up all the things his parents had so loved...as though giving up their memories altogether...he couldn't do it.
"I won't let you do this! You can't! This is all mine and you can't have it!" Darcy yelled.
"I can do with this as I please! I am your guardian now! You may have been raised to disrespect authority by your parents-God knows, they disrespected everything they could-but now that you are my responsibility you are going to act in a proper manner."
"Or else what?" Darcy demanded.
An unholy light entered his aunt's eyes, and Darcy unwittingly took a step back in fear.
"I do not have to keep you and your sister together, you know," Catherine said coldly. "In fact, the more I think about it, the more the idea strikes me as being rather good. Your sister reminds me far too much of your mother at that age, and the last thing I want is to unleash another Amelia on the world. I have relatives on my husband's side who would be more than happy to take her in. Of course, they live in England, which might make it difficult to see her often...when you're home from military school."
With her words, all the fight left him. The things she was getting rid of were only things. Ginger was his sister, the only thing he had in the world. He had to take care of her, and he couldn't do that if she was with someone else. His father would be disappointed in his Dare if he sacrificed Ginger for meaningless stuff.
Darcy's head drooped and he couldn't look his aunt in the eye as she threw the bag with the ball in it on top of a pile of things she was planning to get rid of.
Of course, Darcy should've known that Catherine hadn't seriously intended on getting rid of Ginger, at least not then. She may not have liked her, but Catherine knew it would look bad if she split up two orphaned children.
"Darcy? Come on, Darcy. I may have a job but I really don't have the money to be paying to hear you breathe," Ginger was saying.
"I'm-I'm sorry, Gin. I was just thinking about...something about Dad."
"He used to bowl, huh?"
"Yes, he did. He was an excellent bowler."
"And what about his son? Is he anything like his father?"
"Not too bad," Darcy replied, flexing his fingers, which were aching from not being used to bowling.
"Well, good."
"You know, Ginger, I was...uh, I was also thinking about how I wished you had something of our parents'."
"Why don't I?" It wasn't much of a question. "Oh, wait, let me guess. Dragon lady built a pyre and burned the lot?"
"You really shouldn't call her that," Darcy protested weakly. "She's-"
"Darcy, we've had this discussion before. Please don't start it up again. Look at what she's done to you! Look at where you are!"
"It's not so bad, and I'm learning-"
"You've been there less than a week. The most you've probably had to work was three or four hours, right?"
"Yes."
"Wait until you get those long shifts. You'll be thinking differently then. You'll be cursing that witch as much as I do." Ginger sighed, then added, "I'm right, though, aren't I? She got rid of everything that belonged to our parents after they died."
"Yes, she did," Darcy said quietly.
"Do you know what happened to them after that?"
Darcy's brow furrowed. "I assume she threw them in the nearest landfill she could find."
"Oh." Ginger sounded disappointed.
"Why did you want to know?"
"I was hoping that maybe she had given them away to friends of theirs. That maybe these friends might still have them and that they were just waiting for us to come back to claim them."
"That only happens in bad movies, Georgiana. It's a lovely thought, and I wish for your sake it were so, but it isn't."
"Do you even remember where we used to live before Mom and Dad died?"
"No, I don't." Darcy ran a hand through his hair.
He wished he had more memories of his father, but over the years his memories dulled somewhat until most of what he remembered was hazy and doubtful. Obviously, there hadn't been anyone he could ask or talk to about his parents. It hadn't been until the other night when Charlie had invited him to go bowling that he'd remembered something vividly.
"So, you were telling me about Charlotte." Ginger had clearly decided to end the trip down memory lane for something much more recent and interesting. "She took you bowling?"
"Yes," he replied. "Charlie-that's her nickname-and several of the others from work go bowling every Monday. It was fun. I almost won once."
"You sound proud of that."
"I am. I haven't bowled in so long that I figured I'd be throwing nothing but gutter balls, but I bowled a two-oh-eight in my first game."
"Wow. That is impressive."
"I didn't do quite as well in the others, but it was still fun."
"I'm glad to hear it, Dare. I was afraid that you were going to go into this job with your...well, how can I say this without hurting your feelings?"
"Arrogant attitude?" Darcy suggested.
"That would be it. I was afraid that you were going to tick everyone off."
Darcy decided not to tell her about his difficulties with Elisabeth...especially since things between them were slightly better than before.
"Well, I've managed to survive a week," he did tell her. "I knew that if I survived it I would be fine."
"I'm glad to hear it. Now, tell me more about this Charlie. Is she your usual-brainless brunette, gray eyes, legs up to her armpits, so skinny she makes me feel even more of a hippo than I already am?"
"You're not a hippopotamus, Ginger."
"I'm a size fourteen in a world where size twos rule."
"For your information, Charlie does not look the least bit like what you've described, except that she's tall. She's got brown hair that looks blonde sometimes-"
"Natural highlights or otherwise?"
"How would I know the difference?"
"Does it look streaky or fake?"
Darcy frowned. "Her hair looks blonde in the sunlight."
"Natural, then. I like her already."
"Do you want me to continue or do you want to debate why it's foolish to like someone based on whether or not they color their hair?"
"By all means, continue."
"Her eyes are green-true green, not gray-green or hazel or anything like that. They're actually green. She's got freckles."
"Freckles? I think this is a first. You've never dated a girl with freckles before."
"I told you she was different. She's tall, but she's like you in body type." When Ginger didn't say anything right away, Darcy reminded her, "You didn't call so we could exchange silence."
"I know, I know. I'm just trying to get over the shock of you dating someone who is so not your type-and before you say you don't have a type, you do. The coloring changes from what I said, but the body and personality don't."
"I have dated plenty of intellectual women. Someone listening to you might think I only dated dim-witted-"
"You'd better stop right there, because the only women I've ever seen you with would have a great deal of trouble putting the days of the week in the right order, with the exception of Anne Ripley. And she would ask Catherine if she could do it before she did."
"I'm not going to argue with you-"
"Because you know I'm right!"
"Because I haven't talked to you in all week and I don't want us getting mad at each other. But if you were here now, you'd really like Charlie."
"I think I would. Well, I've got to go because this is costing."
"Right, of course. Ginger, let me call you in the future, okay? That way you don't have to pay for the call. I'll call you every Monday night when I get home from bowling."
"Okay. Should I assume if I don't get a phone call that you're otherwise occupied?"
Darcy felt his neck flush and replied, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear my baby sister say that."
"You're blushing, aren't you?"
"I'm going now, Georgiana. Talk to you later."
"Love you, Dare," she said.
He smiled. "I love you too, Gin. Bye." He hung up the phone and wandered into the kitchen to get himself a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He hadn't been off the phone for three minutes when it rang again.
Darcy stared at the phone in fear. Only two people currently had his phone number, and Ginger had already called him. That left only one person.
You could let the machine pick it up. After all, Catherine will never know that you aren't really here.
But Darcy knew that she'd sense his presence, even though he was at least a thousand miles away from her. While he was debating the matter, the answering service clicked on. When his message finished playing, he heard his aunt.
"Darcy Ambrose Williamson, you pick up the telephone right this instant! I know you're home because you have nowhere else to go. Darcy? Darcy!"
She'll only come down harder on you when she eventually gets to speak to you. Might as well get it over with.
Darcy's hand trembled over the telephone, debating whether or not he should pick it up and talk to her. Why was she calling so quickly, anyway? Hadn't she said she would only speak to him every three months to see how he was doing?
He knew the answer, and knew he could expect a phone call such as this at least once a week. Forget three months. Catherine had so little confidence in him that she thought he'd be sick of working here after a week. Either that, or she had supreme confidence that given a short amount of time, he'd come to his senses and agree to her terms.
Catherine's voice was abruptly cut off as the machine whirred to a stop. Darcy noticed for the first time that there were six messages waiting for him. He hit the playback button on his machine to hear them.
The first two were from Ginger, who said she'd called Planet Earth Pizza and discovered that he was off for the evening. At the end of the second message, she cheerfully said that she hoped his absence was due to something good. The last four were from Catherine, each one similar to the one he'd just heard, demanding to know where he was and repeating that there was no earthly reason why he should be gone.
Darcy walked over to his couch and laid down. There could be any number of reasons why I might be gone, Catherine, he thought, mentally picturing the look on his aunt's face if he told her that. I could be grocery shopping, or hanging around at work because there's nothing better to do, or I might've run off never to be heard from again. I don't have to account for every little thing I do to you, especially not now.
Darcy's stomach clenched and he nearly moaned in agony. Two years ago, he'd been diagnosed with an ulcer. At the time, his doctor had recommended that he quit working for his aunt since obviously that was what was causing all his stress. Darcy had ignored the doctor, bought a case of Maalox, and continued suffering in silence.
She's not even here and she's still giving me stomach troubles, he thought sullenly. Immediately, he felt guilty. Catherine may not have been a natural parent, but she'd done the best she could for him and Ginger. How many people should complain about getting the best education that could be had? How many people in his graduating class had had a job awaiting them even before setting foot on campus?
How many people would take great pleasure in disowning a relative? How many people would so callously get rid of everything a child had which reminded him of his parents? How many people would do whatever it took to get their own way?
The phone rang again. With a groan, Darcy rose from the couch and went to pick up the phone.
"Hello."
"That's a cheerful way to answer the telephone."
Darcy looked at the receiver in his hand with undisguised surprise. How on earth had Chazz Bingley gotten his telephone number?
"Chazz?" he asked, to be sure that was who it was.
"Well, yeah."
"How did you get my telephone number?"
"It's on the list of phone numbers in Sean's office at work. Why? Is there something wrong with me calling you?"
"No, no, not at all," Darcy said, relieved that it wasn't Catherine. "I just didn't know that anyone else had my phone number."
"Oh, good, because I needed to ask you something. That's why I called."
"What is it?"
"Okay, I'm getting ready to call Jenna and...well, I'm not sure that my usual style is right for her."
"Your usual style of what?"
Chazz hesitated. "Maybe I should've called someone else, someone who knows me well. Charlie might be able to help me out, being Jenna's cousin and all-"
"No, I want to help!" Darcy protested. "I didn't mean to sound like I didn't."
"You didn't," Chazz replied. "It's not you. It's me. You've only known me for a week so you don't know that I'm not ordinarily this nervous about calling a girl up. But this is Jenna. I want to make sure I don't sound too goofy."
Darcy was beginning to figure out why Chazz had called him instead of Charlie. "How well do you know Jenna?" he asked. "Is she someone you know well, or do you only know her a little because she's Elisabeth's sister?"
"I know her well. Jenna used to work at the store while she was in grad school, then she lived with Elisabeth and Charlie for a while."
"Then she's already got a good idea of what you're like. She knows you're goofy. If she accepts your offer of a date, then it's because she likes you."
"Of course, you're right. I didn't think of that. She already knows me. Then this should be easier than I'm thinking it will be."
"That's right," Darcy said. "You don't need advice from me. All you have to do is call her and ask her out. She knows who you are. She knows what you're like. It's as simple as that."
"Right...right. But wait a minute. If I call her, I might have to talk to her mother."
"Her mother?"
"Yeah. Jenna lives with her mother and stepfather, at her mother's insistence. I think if Jenna had made the call, she'd go back to living with El and Charlie, but-"
"What's wrong with her mother that would make you hesitate to call?"
Chazz made a noise of derision. "If you'd ever met Jenna's mother, you'd know the answer to that without even asking. She's got aspirations for Jenna, and dating a delivery driver isn't one of them. If I call asking for Jenna, she'll know why."
Darcy had no answer for this. If he'd ever called a woman and had to speak to her mother, he doubted the mother would have a problem with Darcy Williamson calling her daughter.
"Hang the mother," Darcy told him. "You don't have to date her. If she doesn't like it, that's her problem."
"Okay!" Chazz sounded like he was getting excited. "I'm going to do this."
"Yes, you are."
"I'm gonna call Jenna and she's going to go out with me."
"That's the right attitude to have."
"I've got to go. I'm gonna call her now."
"Good. I'll see you later."
"Yeah. Bye." Chazz hung up.
Darcy stood staring at the wall for a moment before hanging up the phone. He chuckled. He'd never once been asked to give advice or moral support to anyone. Usually, he was the one needing it.
It was kind of nice to be on the other end. And talking with Chazz had helped his stomach as well.
The phone jolted the smile off his face and without thinking, he picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Darcy, where on earth have you been? I have been calling you for the past four hours and you haven't answered me. I even called that store you're working at and they said you'd been off work since three. Do you have an explanation for yourself? You worried me half to death, thinking you might be dead!" Catherine roared.
"Which question would you like answered first?" Darcy asked.
"I beg your pardon?"
Darcy sighed. He shouldn't have said it like that. He should've been more polite and respectful. After all, she was his aunt and she did sound worried about him.
"Never mind. I went..." Darcy hesitated, remembering the fracas all those years ago over his father's bowling ball. "I went out with some of the people from work."
"Out? What do you mean, 'out'? Out where?"
"I went bowling. Every Monday night, the people on the day shift go bowling."
"Bowling? Why would you want to do something as plebeian as that?"
"Because it sounded like fun. It was fun, Catherine. I enjoyed myself. Is there something wrong with having fun while I'm here?"
"People of your position in this world do not...bowl."
Darcy clenched his fist, the memory of his father firmly entrenched in his mind. I am my father's son, he told himself. If he were here, he wouldn't endure this nonsense. He would...
"You are there to learn a lesson, young man, not to go gallivanting about bowling. What will you do next, tip cows?"
Darcy didn't answer, but he didn't need to. Catherine, when she was well into a lecture, could talk for days.
"...when Anne did her stint in a pizza restaurant, she didn't waste her time playing games with a bunch of...ordinary people."
"Ordinary?"
"Yes. They may seem to be nice, but they have no future. All most of them will do is get older, working for that...place. They do not have prospects. They do not have goals. I would be surprised if half of them had brains."
Darcy swallowed heavily and thought of Charlie, who had a degree in English and psychology, who was only working at Planet Earth Pizza until she was able to get a full-time job. She was one of the smartest people he'd ever met.
"That's not fair to them, Catherine," he said quietly.
"It's the truth, Darcy, and you cannot let your...your wayward blood make you think otherwise."
"Wayward blood?"
"Your father may have been common, and your mother may have been a fool for throwing herself away to marry him, but you're still a Darcy."
It was on the tip of his tongue to shout that he was a Williamson who had the misfortune of being a member of the Darcy family as well, but then he thought of Ginger. She needed him to be strong. Protest though she might that she wouldn't take a dime of Catherine's money, the fact remained that after seventeen years with Catherine, she deserved something for the pain she'd been given. Especially of late.
"Was there anything in particular that you wanted, Catherine?" he asked wearily. Or were you just calling to give me another lecture?
"I wanted to know how things were going."
"Just fine."
"Oh? You're getting plenty of hours? Making tips?"
"I'm doing just fine," he repeated.
"You do know that I'm calling your manager every week to make sure that you're actually working and not calling in sick, aren't you? And I'll be looking at the weekly reports to make sure as well?"
Darcy bristled. "I'm sure you're doing whatever you think you should, but when I agree to do something, I don't shirk my duties. If I'm on that schedule, I'm working the hours. And I resent the implication that I wouldn't."
"Now, now, you have no reason to be mad at me. I just want to be sure that you know where things stand. Have you given any thought to coming back?"
"No."
"Oh." Catherine sounded vexed. It was a small, petty pleasure, and Darcy enjoyed every moment of it.
"If there's nothing else, Catherine, I'm expecting a phone call from Ginger any moment. I'll talk to you in three months."
"Ginger?!"
"Yes. We've been trying to talk to each other all weekend and I promised her I'd be home around this time. Good-bye." With Catherine screeching in his ear, Darcy hung up the phone.
And didn't feel the slightest bit guilty about doing it.