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Chapter Forty-Three

Brrrrriiiiiinnnggg!

"No!" Elisabeth growled as she reached out and smacked her alarm clock. All she wanted to do was sleep. The damn kid had kept her up half the night, rolling around trying to get comfortable and making sure to get a few jabs at her kidneys for good measure. The kid finally got to sleep, and now the alarm was going off.

I should go back to nights. At least then I could sleep as long as I wanted.

Elisabeth struggled to get out of bed, yawning and stretching her arms in the air for a good minute. She wondered if she could call Sean and claim she was sick. She was definitely going to be behind all day today, with this beginning. Grabbing her robe and pulling it around her, Elisabeth ambled out of her room and into the bathroom. Her stomach grumbled and she decided to wait until after breakfast to take a shower.

When she opened the bathroom door, an odd smell assaulted her senses. She took a few more deep breaths before she realized that she was smelling coffee.

Coffee? Why do I smell coffee?

Charlie didn't drink coffee. She hated it, in fact. And not once, in the four years that they'd been roommates, had Charlie been nice enough to make her coffee. She certainly wouldn't do it now, when Elisabeth eighty years pregnant, not when she wouldn't even let her have a Dr. Pepper now and again.

Maybe Jenna's stopped by to say hello. But that couldn't be, either. Jenna was allergic to coffee. Elisabeth stepped from the hallway into the dining room. She was about to continue into the kitchen when she heard someone humming.

Someone male.

Elisabeth grinned. Darcy. It had to be, because he was the only other person she could think who would be in her apartment making coffee. He'd probably come downstairs to make her breakfast as well, something he was getting into a nice habit of doing. She'd teased him last week that if he kept it up, she'd expect to have breakfast made for her every day for the rest of her life. Perhaps she'd tease him again for good measure, something about how he'd better be nice to her after spending the evening out with his cousin.

Not that she'd minded at all. How could she, when the man hadn't seen anyone in his family other than his sister and aunt in seventeen years?

Her smile grew sly as she stepped closer to the kitchen. "All right, who are you and what the hell are you doing in my apartment?" she barked, intending to scare him because his back was turned to her.

The man standing in her kitchen cursed loudly and dropped his coffee mug, which was fortunately plastic. Scalding coffee splattered the floor, just missing his legs. He turned around to glare at her.

Elisabeth let out a startled yelp, because the person in her kitchen wasn't Darcy.

"What the hell were you doing, scaring me like that!" Jack Middleton yelled, opening drawers until he found the one with the dishtowels. He bent down and started cleaning the coffee mess, tossing the mug in the sink. "I thought you were upstairs staying with Darcy."

"I'm sorry, I thought you were...but...what are you doing here?" Elisabeth asked dumbly. "I thought we moved you into your mother's house for a reason."

"What does it look like I'm doing? Making coffee." He fumbled around until he'd gotten out a new mug and poured himself some more coffee.

Once over her initial shock, Elisabeth was able to examine Jack closely. His hair was tousled and she recognized what he was wearing as being an old pink ruffled robe of Charlie's that had always been too big for her. Jack managed to fill it out okay, though. His feet were bare, as were what she could see of his legs from beneath the robe.

"You're here to make coffee? In Charlie's bathrobe?"

A flush started creeping up Jack's neck but he said nothing.

"What happened?" Charlie stumbled into the kitchen, eyes bleary, hair standing on end, wearing her Grinch T-shirt backwards with a pair of black shorts. Elisabeth stared at Charlie, who looked like hell but had obviously glimpsed heaven in the past twenty-four hours.

"El thought it would be cute to sneak up on me when I had a cup of coffee in my hands," Jack told her. "I nearly got second-degree burns on my legs."

Elisabeth hid a grin when Charlie turned about as red as Jack's neck. "I was hoping he'd be gone before you got home," she muttered. "I didn't hear you come in. Did you stay here last night?"

"Yes, I did. Why is that such a shock? Darcy and I aren't exactly joined at the hip, and I do still live here. Were you looking to keep this a secret?"

"I was hoping to, yes," Charlie said. "No offense, but I was wanting to keep the details of my love life private."

Elisabeth could think of any number of responses to make to this comment, but she decided not to. For starters, it would've been obvious to a blind person that Charlie was about ready to die of embarrassment, and Jack wasn't doing much better. Charlie's reaction didn't surprise her while Jack's did. She kept her silence until Jack tossed his coffee aside, gave her a disgusted look, and slunk into Charlie's bedroom. Five minutes later, he was out the door with a brief goodbye to Charlie.

Charlie, in the meantime, had poured herself a bowl of Cheerios and had taken a seat in her chair. Elisabeth glanced at the clock, knew she was going to make herself late if she dallied too long, and decided to risk it. She flopped onto the couch and stared at Charlie, who appeared to be determined not to talk about it because she was staring at the kitchen window, eating her cereal.

"Well, are you going to tell me what's been going on or are you going to eat your breakfast and pretend I don't exist?" Elisabeth asked in frustration after a few minutes of silence.

"I'm going to eat my breakfast and pretend you don't exist," Charlie replied calmly before taking another bite of cereal. "I told you, I'm not going to get into details on this."

"Why not? I've told you about every guy I've dated since...well, since I started sneaking out of the house to meet my first boyfriend. Charlie, this is a big deal! I need details! Not gory ones, just...when did this start and how serious is it and if Jack's been spending his nights with you, why did he move home in the first place?"

Charlie sighed heavily and set her cereal bowl on the end table with a dramatic plunk. When she finally looked at Elisabeth, there was a glow in her eyes that Elisabeth recognized because she saw it in her own eyes when she thought about Darcy.

"You remember when Jack and I went to St. Louis for that midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show around my birthday?"

"Charlie, no one who saw you and Jack dressed up as Columbia and Eddie will forget that you two went to a midnight showing that of that movie. Caroline's still mad because she had to alter her Britney Spears schoolgirl outfit while you were allowed to wear your costume on Halloween night." Elisabeth's eyes widened. "That's when it happened?"

"Not at the movie!" Charlie snapped. "What do you think I am, crazy?"

"Well, we'll get into what I think about people who dress in costume to see a cheesy movie and scream insults at the screen later. But I wasn't thinking you two actually did anything at the theater...you're the one who brought that up."

Charlie turned scarlet again. "If you're gonna make fun of me, I'm not telling."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Please continue."

"When the movie was over, Jack and I went to the hotel room we'd rented for the night. Before you ask, there were two beds so it wasn't like either of us planned on anything happening. We got to talking about things----his mother, my skin problems, work, mutual friends...and then he kissed me." Charlie looked away. "And that sort of led to everything else. And we've sort of been together ever since. We just didn't want anyone to know because...well, I don't know why we didn't tell anyone. I could say because we wanted some privacy at first, like certain people I know."

"That wasn't the reason Darcy and I didn't tell anyone about our relationship and you know it," Elisabeth grumbled. "Are you still going to be harping on this in ten years?"

"Probably, because you'll be harping about this."

"I don't know how you kept it a secret from Jenna, unless you weren't keeping it a secret from her. Did Jenna know? I'm gonna kill her!"

"Jenna did not know any more than you did. She was always at Chazz's place."

Elisabeth laughed and then found that she couldn't stop laughing. "Oh, God! I see it now. She was over there so you two were over here, and Darcy and I were upstairs! What a mess!" She laughed for another couple of minutes, dimly aware of the fact that Charlie was grinning, before she finally settled down. "But if you two are together, then why did Jack move out of his townhouse and back home? It would be so much easier if he moved in here, that way I could move in with Darcy and not worry about you having to pay all the bills around here yourself."

"We were talking about doing that," Charlie admitted. "I know you're probably not going to be here after the baby's born...I mean, you're talking all the time about moving to New York with Darcy, so I figured neither of you would be here, and now that Jenna's gone to live with Chazz, it seemed like the logical thing. But that was before his sisters decided to play their trump card and make Jack feel guilty because he'd had their mother hospitalized."

"Well, now I know how you know all of that. I did wonder," Elisabeth said. "You said he moved back home to take care of her because no one else would and there was no place for her to go."

"Yeah. There's a chance that something might open up in Vandalia for his mother, but I'm not holding my breath. I doubt his sisters would approve of her going there now that Jack's caved in and moved back home. But if she goes...Jack says he intends to sell the family home or let one of his sisters have it so he can move in with me."

"For your sake, I hope that happens," Elisabeth said. "He looked a lot better today than he did Sunday when we were moving him out of the townhouse. What does his mother think of you?"

"His mother doesn't know about me yet." Charlie smiled bitterly. "His sisters do, though. We were in Terre Haute doing some Christmas shopping last week when we happened to run into his sister...Anna, April, Abby, Alice...Audrey! She's the third sister, I think. All those 'A' names...sheesh. And I thought my mother was bad by naming me after the Bronte sisters. What were we talking about?"

"His sisters know you two are dating," Elisabeth told her.

"Right. So we ran into Audrey in Terre Haute and she asked Jack who I was in this kind of cold tone, like I was some trashy little skank. Jack told her I was his girlfriend, and she looked...I don't know. Shocked, more or less. She didn't say anything else, just walked away. Jack looked like he'd been punched and it kind of took the fun out of the afternoon. He told me last night that Anna called him, asking him questions about me and how serious we were."

"What did he tell her?" Elisabeth asked, fearing that Jack might've downplayed his relationship with Charlie to placate his sisters.

"That it was none of her damn business----which it isn't." Charlie scowled at Elisabeth for a moment. "It's not your business, either, so why I'm talking about it is beyond me."

"Because unlike Jack's sisters, I care about the two of you. And of course, I'm thrilled that you're seeing each other."

"Hmm." Charlie stood up and grabbed her cereal bowl, intending to pour what was left into the sink. "I guess following through on his word to move home to be with his mother has placated the Middleton Armada for now. I think they thought dating me would make him go back on his word or something like that."

"I was telling Darcy the other day that I don't think I'll ever be able to understand that family," Elisabeth said as Charlie walked into the kitchen. She stood up awkwardly and made her way into the kitchen as well. "Charlie..."

"Yeah?" Charlie was running her bowl under hot water.

"Do you love him?"

Charlie turned off the water. "I think I do," she confessed softly. "And I don't know how I didn't see it before, because Jack and I have been friends for so long. I didn't fall in love with him because we're sleeping together. It was before that." Reaching absently for a dish towel, she smiled. "You know when I knew? When Jack walked into the store that night, dressed up as Eddie. I didn't tell him I was going to dress up, much less as Columbia, but when he walked in...I just knew. I mean, he could've dressed up as anyone else or presumed I was going as Magenta because of how thick my hair is and because of my body type and dressed up as Riff Raff, but he didn't."

"I always figured you planned that," Elisabeth admitted. "Now I think you're both crazy."

Charlie flung the dish towel at Elisabeth, who laughed.

"It's more than the fact that we unwittingly dressed up as Columbia and Eddie, though," Charlie continued. "It's everything. It's the way we agree on baseball and disagree on politics. It's the pranks he pulls that drive me nuts, only I have to laugh because they're really funny. It's late nights sitting on the couch watching Letterman and early mornings eating breakfast. It's...well, you understand, don't you?"

"Yes," Elisabeth said thoughtfully, thinking of Darcy. "And he feels the same way about you?"

"He says he does." Charlie said this with just enough doubt to make Elisabeth realize why Charlie hadn't told her about Jack before now.

"You don't believe him," Elisabeth said bluntly. "Why?"

"I...well, for God's sake, El, look at me!" Charlie stretched her arms out, as if Elisabeth had no idea what Charlie looked like.

"Yeah, so?"

"'Yeah, so?' That's all you can say? I'm...I'm hideous. My skin's a mess, I'm fat, I have frizzy, coarse hair, my eyes look like dead seaweed..."

"In about two seconds, there's going to be weirdness between us. We have the same color eyes, you know, and I have never thought the color resembles dead seaweed. Live seaweed, maybe, but not dead. Your skin is fine, otherwise you wouldn't have the thirteenth circled with 'LAST LIGHT TREATMENT' written in big red letters."

"I go to see my dermatologist on the thirteenth. If he gives me the all-clear, my last light treatment will be on the tenth."

"So how come you've got the thirteenth circled with..."

"It's more symbolic that way. And by the way, my skin is not fine. I've seen myself naked and I know where the scars are."

"Then so does Jack, and he obviously doesn't care. If he says he loves you, warts and all, why wouldn't you believe him?"

"Because there's no reason why he should. Maybe he wouldn't be able to pull a...a Cindy Crawford type of woman, but he could have better than me."

"But he doesn't want better than you. He doesn't think there's anything better than you."

"So he might as well settle for me because there's nothing else out there he can get, is that it?"

"That's not what I meant and you damn well know it, Charlie! Why can't you see yourself for once in your life as being pretty? Because you are, you know. Maybe you're not Cindy Crawford, but who is? For that matter, who'd want to be? I never thought she was that attractive myself, and I've never heard Jack raving about her. Have you?"

"No," Charlie said in a small voice.

"Then when the man tells you he loves you, believe him. I don't think Jack's going to say something like that casually." Elisabeth happened to glance at the clock on the stove and gasped. "Oh, hell. I'm gonna be late. We'll continue this discussion tomorrow sometime."

"Why tomorrow?" Charlie asked. "I was hoping I could get some advice."

"Because Darcy's taking me to Decatur tonight and we won't be coming home until tomorrow. Anyway, you don't need my advice. I'm not saying you have to think that every single thing Jack ever tells you is a gospel truth, but if you only believe one thing, believe that he loves you." With that, Elisabeth swept out of the kitchen to hurry into the shower.

"You're kidding." Darcy was still holding a shrimp speared on a fork halfway to his mouth, causing Elisabeth to laugh and place her hand on his, forcing down the fork before he accidentally put it in his mouth and choked.

"I'm not kidding. I didn't think of how funny he looked at the time, but now that I think back on it..." Elisabeth giggled. "You haven't seen this old robe of Charlie's. It's pale pink with these...these ruffles!" Her giggles turned into outright laughter. "He was lucky it was something Granny Bess gave her Christmas, otherwise it would've been too small!"

Darcy was trying his best not to laugh too loudly and disturb the other patrons at Red Lobster, but finally he gave in the fight because Elisabeth's description of Jack became too vivid for him. For a minute, the two of them had the entire restaurant staring at them before Darcy calmed down enough to notice that they were drawing attention to themselves. He poked Elisabeth to alert her to the problem without success.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she said in a low, choked voice once she was under some control. "I don't know what made me do that. It was just..."

"Oh, no, please don't start again," Darcy murmured as Elisabeth appeared to be on the verge of howling laughter again. "Eat something. Maybe it'll help you out."

"Okay, okay." Elisabeth took a few deep breaths and then picked up her fork.

"Well, I'm glad they're together," Darcy said. "Jack needs someone like Charlie right now, because she won't be scared off by his mother's illness."

"She might get scared off by those sisters of his, though. They already know and I'm surprised they haven't been around trying to intimidate her." Elisabeth popped a shrimp into her mouth and nearly moaned with delight. "Heavenly," she said once she'd swallowed.

"It is," Darcy agreed, although he'd eaten very little so far.

The key to their hotel room was in his pocket, sitting alongside the engagement ring. Darcy had already been to the bathroom twice to make sure it hadn't fallen out or anything, and both times he'd opened the box, there had sat the diamond. Although Ginger had offered to give him back their mother's engagement ring, he'd refused to accept it. It was Ginger's only tangible reminder of the mother she'd never really known, and Darcy didn't want to take that away from her.

Darcy listlessly ate another shrimp and thought about how furious Catherine had been when the ring, which Catherine had included in a pile of things to be sold (because Catherine wasn't a fool----she knew it had value) turned up missing when they got to New York. She knew Darcy had taken it, but no amount of cajoling, bribing, and threatening would make him reveal where he'd put it. An extensive search turned up nothing.

Two days later, when Catherine was at work, Darcy sneaked into her bedroom and retrieved the ring from the pocket of a coat in her room. He'd been certain she would find it when she'd searched the house, but Catherine hadn't thought to search her own room, thinking that Darcy wasn't stupid enough to put something where she'd find it. He'd found other obvious places to hide the ring until he was old enough to rent a safe deposit box, where it had been until he'd secretly given it to Ginger when she'd graduated from high school.

Darcy had the ring, and he had the hotel room, but he had absolutely no idea how he was going to propose. He'd thought of making it public, but what if she said no? He'd die of humiliation. He knew the chances of Elisabeth rejecting his proposal were about a million to one, as long as he didn't act like a jerk and make it sound like he knew all along she would say yes. Then he thought of waiting until they got to the hotel room, but somehow that didn't seem romantic enough. Never mind that the room had more flowers than a florist's shop, or that there was sparkling cider on ice waiting for them, or that he had the most expensive room in the hotel with a Jacuzzi and an enormous bed. It just didn't feel right.

"...some shopping while we're here. I don't have a single gift bought, and with three weeks left to Christmas, I thought it'd be a good idea to get with it. Especially since I don't know when this baby will come and..."

Darcy blinked several times, snapping himself back to attention. He hoped Elisabeth hadn't noticed his lapse.

"Shopping? That sounds like a good idea," Darcy said. "Except that it means you can't buy something for me."

Elisabeth grinned. "Don't worry. I'll have plenty of time to figure out what to get a guy who has everything."

"Everything? I don't have everything. A house in the Hamptons, to begin with."

"Somehow I don't think that's in my price range. How about a stuffed animal?" Elisabeth giggled when Darcy frowned at her. "I guess you're not the stuffed animal type. Maybe I won't have time to figure out what to get, so you'd better make a list."

"I will." Darcy was praying the stuffed animal thing was a joke as he took another bite of his dinner.

"Do you have most of your shopping done?" Elisabeth asked.

Darcy nodded. "I need to get something for Bubba, though. Why couldn't you have put his name back in the hat and drawn me another name?"

"Because you were the last person we drew for. Bubba's was the only name left. Just get him a case of beer and he'll be happy." Elisabeth sighed. "I can't believe you have most of your shopping done. It must be a man thing, because my father always had his shopping done long before my mother did. He told me that the secret was not to get distracted by the things you wanted to buy. 'Start out with a list and get through it quickly, Ellie.'"

"Sensible man, your father." Darcy ate another shrimp.

Elisabeth reached into her purse, which was sitting on the chair next to her, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, which turned out to be her Christmas list. She let him get a brief glimpse before looking it over. "Okay, here's what I have to get. Jenna & Chazz...jeez, that sounds strange to say. I'm buying a gift for the both of them now. Anyway, Jenna wants a big duvet like you've got on your bed. I hope you don't mind that I described it to her. She's always cold in the wintertime, so I thought something like that would be perfect."

"They're handy to have when the house is as cold as a meat locker," Darcy pointed out.

Elisabeth gave him a dirty look. "It's better than having the house hotter than volcano. So that takes care of them. I'm getting Charlie that twentieth-anniversary edition of Trivial Pursuit, which she might play with another person before memorizing all the answers and beating everyone she plays. I'm getting Sean two Calvin and Hobbes books, and then everyone's chipping in to buy him that new briefcase. I think he'll like that. I'm getting Caroline a gift certificate to Bath and Body Works, where I'm sure she'll spend it quickly. I'm getting Mel the new Michael Crichton book that came out, and as for my mother..."

"A lump of coal?" Darcy suggested.

Elisabeth smiled at him. "A nice thought, but no. I'm getting her..." She glanced at the list, "...a Turbo Cooker. I have no idea what the hell it is, but Lydia assures me that's what she wants. It better be, or I'm going to hang that girl by her ears instead of getting her the first season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD."

"Sounds like you've got all the bases covered."

"Yeah, well, you're gonna have to tell me what to get your sister for Christmas, because I really didn't know what she would like."

"Ginger?" Darcy questioned.

"You have another sister?"

"No, of course not...but you don't have to get her something for Christmas."

"Yes, I do. She's your sister. That's the way it works. So, any thoughts on what to get her?"

"I..." Darcy was flabbergasted. "I don't...I'll ask her. But does this mean I have to get something for everyone on your list? I only bought something for you. I mean, will your mother be expecting me to bring her a gift?"

Elisabeth shook her head. "I'll put your name on the Turbo Cooker, so that'll take care of that. And you don't have to get something for everyone I know just because I know them. You'd be buying gifts for half of Effingham County if you did that. It would be okay if you wanted to get something for the friends you have at Planet Earth Pizza, you know. Who do you have gifts for?"

"I put in for the gift to Sean. I bought a gift for you and Ginger, of course. And I got a little something for Charlie...nothing expensive or anything. I thought of getting some gag gifts for Chazz and Jack, but other than that and something for my aunt, that's it."

"That seems okay. Jenna's not buying you anything, and I know Lydia won't. She barely remembers to buy something for me. If there's anyone else I think of, I'll let you know."

"Hopefully before Christmas morning," Darcy muttered.

"I heard that." Elisabeth finished the last of her shrimp. "But I'm choosing to ignore it because you're buying me this lovely dinner. Are you going to eat that last shrimp?"

"No," Darcy murmured, his stomach continuing to churn. "It's all yours."

Elisabeth raced through the mall with more speed than Darcy had seen her use in a while. Using her father's philosophy, she'd quickly gotten everything on her list before dragging Darcy into Spencer's to look for the gag gifts for Jack and Chazz. Darcy had no luck finding anything he thought was appropriate and dragged Elisabeth out of the store as quickly as he could.

"You're a killjoy, Dare Williamson," she admonished him as they walked back toward the ice cream stand to get a snack. They were to the water fountain when Elisabeth put a hand on his chest and stopped him from moving forward.

"Ooh, look! There's Santa Claus!" Elisabeth squealed, pointing to the center stand near the water fountain where a man dressed as Santa was talking to a girl of about seven. There was a line of children waiting to talk to him.

"Calm down, El. You'd think you'd never seen the man before," Darcy told her, careful to make sure he didn't burst some child's illusions about Santa by blurting out that he wasn't real.

"I know, I know, but I never get to the malls when there's a...when Santa's around," Elisabeth corrected herself, a small child passing them by to get in line. "Do you suppose they'd let me sit on his lap and ask for something for my baby?" She looked down, sighing as she wished she could see her feet. "Hmm. On second thought, maybe I'd better not. I'd probably break Santa's legs if I sat on his lap at this point."

Darcy was seized with a crazed idea. He told himself it was the dumbest thing he'd ever thought of, only to turn around and tell himself that it was absolutely brilliant. And creative. "Maybe they'd let you shake hands with him and tell him what you want. We lose nothing by asking."

"Okay then...ooh." Elisabeth grimaced. "Give me a minute to run to the ladies' room, would you?"

"Sure," he said quickly. "Run, Elisabeth, run!"

"Har bloody har," she muttered as she waddled off toward the bathrooms, which thankfully were very close to the fountains. She didn't look back and therefore didn't see Darcy make his move over to one of Santa's elves to make a request. He received a funny look for his trouble but after consulting a couple others, they agreed to go along with his idea. Darcy took his place in line and waited for Elisabeth to return from the restroom, which took several minutes.

"I hate being pregnant," she grumbled as she stood beside him. "I'd like to meet the idiot who said that pregnancy was a wonderful experience for the woman and shoot him dead."

"Him? Maybe it was a woman," Darcy pointed out.

"Not likely. Women actually have to go through it." Elisabeth rubbed her stomach. "Ow! Brat. Quit playing soccer with my internal organs."

"You know, at some point, we have to stop calling her 'Brat,'" Darcy said. "Have you given any thoughts as to what we should name her?"

"Yeah. Brat Williamson. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" Elisabeth grinned so he wouldn't think she was serious. "Did you have any thoughts?"

"A few, but we can discuss them later. Maybe we should pick up a couple of baby name books at Waldenbooks before we leave." They had reached the front of the line. Elisabeth prepared to step forward, but Darcy put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Would it be all right if I went first?"

"Whaaat? Why?" Elisabeth asked, outraged.

"Because I want to go first. Is that all right?"

"Oh, sure. Why not? I only happen to be three billion years pregnant here."

"You'll still be three billion years pregnant if you went first, unless you were going to ask Santa for an early delivery. And I don't think he can help you there."

"Santa can do anything," a little girl of maybe six said behind them.

"I'm...sure he could, but she's been very naughty this year," Darcy told the girl. "She's going to have to do a lot of begging in order to get what she wants from Santa."

"I know someone else who's going to be doing a lot of begging in his future," Elisabeth said through clenched teeth. "Fine. You go first."

Darcy flashed her a brilliant smile and walked over to Santa, who looked puzzled to see him. An elf whispered something in his ear, and Santa's confusion cleared up. "Ho ho ho!" he boomed. "Merry Christmas, young man! I must say that you're a little older than most of the boys I see. Have you been a good boy this year?"

"I certainly hope I have, Santa," Darcy said, shaking the man's hand. "I appreciate you letting me do this."

"You're quite welcome. What's your name, young man?"

"I'm Darcy Williamson, and I have just one thing on my Christmas list this year," Darcy told him, raising his voice to be heard over the buzz of shoppers and children standing in line. Darcy got on one knee and pulled the jewelry box out of his jacket pocket. He looked up at Elisabeth, whose eyes got wide with shock when he opened the box to reveal the ring. "You see, Santa, I've been in love with this young woman for several months now, and all I want for Christmas is her."

"Oh, my God," Elisabeth breathed. She repeated this several times, unable to believe that there was Darcy, on one knee with a ring in his hand. She barely noticed when two elves dragged her over to stand directly in front of him.

"I love you, Elisabeth Cathleen Bennet, and I would be honored if you would be my wife. Will you marry me?"

Through a haze of tears, she nodded. "Yes," she whispered, hardly able to get the word out. She was barely aware of someone snapping a picture, or of the people in line applauding as Darcy slipped the ring on her finger. She barely noticed the ring, with its' square-cut diamond in a platinum setting. Her eyes were focused on Darcy as he stood up and kissed her.

A moment later, she returned to some level of sanity and turned to Santa. "You know, we only got in line because I wanted to ask you for something for Christmas," she said, "but I already got it."

Chapter Forty-Four

Darcy opened the door to their hotel room at the Comfort Suites with a flourish. "Tah-daaaah," he announced to giggles from Elisabeth. "Would madam like me to carry her across the threshold?"

"I didn't see a crane in your back pocket. How are you intending to carry me in?" Elisabeth didn't wait for Darcy to reply, walking into the room and looking around. "Oooh, champagne!" She darted over to the ice bucket. "Now, Darcy, you know I shouldn't."

"And you won't. That's nonalcoholic." Darcy shut the door and set the key on the dresser.

"And rose petals...were you intending to propose here? That would've been nice, although I probably would've figured it out from the rose petals on the bed. It's not like we're here for any illicit purposes at this point. In a few months, maybe, but not now."

"I'd thought about proposing here, but you wanted to see Santa Claus and that gave me the idea." Darcy got worried. "You don't think it was stupid of me to do that, do you? It's not the most romantic way of asking someone to marry you...this was what I'd had in mind, but..."

"Darcy, don't you dare apologize for proposing to me. I'll kill you if you do." Elisabeth smiled. "I'm willing to bet there aren't a whole lot of women whose husbands thought of asking Santa Claus for a little help with the proposal. In fact, I'd say you were decidedly unique. And considering how everything else in our relationship has gone up to this point, I thought it fitting." She sat on the bed and bounced on it a couple of times. "So, since you've already got the proposal bit out of the way, what do you suggest we do?"

Darcy decided she was telling the truth about not minding the proposal and smiled. "There's a Jacuzzi in the bathroom," he said. "Want to try it out, or would that be too hot for you?"

Elisabeth shivered, realizing that she was cold for the first time in a few weeks. "No, I don't think so. I think the cold temperatures outside finally caught up to me, because I could use a good hot soak."

Darcy gave her a funny look. "Are you sure about that? I don't want to get in there and have you complain five minutes later that you're hot."

Elisabeth looked at her arm, which was covered with goose bumps. "I'm sure," she said. "In fact, the sooner we're in there, the better."

Twenty minutes later, the two of them were relaxing in the Jacuzzi with the jets stirring up steaming water. Darcy would've preferred it to be a little cooler, but he was supposed he should be grateful that she hadn't wanted ice water. He sat across from Elisabeth, who had reclined her head against the edge of the tub with her eyes closed and was smiling.

"This is the life. If we ever get a house together, I'm going to insist on having one of these," she said, opening her eyes. "I have a question for you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"How did you know what size ring to get? I noticed that it fit perfectly, but I don't remember you sizing my finger for it."

Darcy grinned. "It was a top-secret mission involving your being dead to the world and me with a tape measure. You didn't feel a thing."

"You do realize that it'll have to be resized after I have the baby. My fingers have gotten so swollen that I wouldn't be able to pick my hand out of a line-up." Elisabeth held up her hand, now bare because she hadn't wanted anything to happen to the ring in the tub.

"We'll worry about that when we get to it," Darcy said. "Now that you've asked a question, it's my turn."

"Okay." Elisabeth didn't like the look that crept into his eyes as he paused before asking his question.

"What's been bothering you lately?"

Elisabeth flinched. She'd known that was going to be his question. "Nothing," she lied.

"El, please don't tell it's nothing when it's obviously something." When she didn't answer, Darcy continued. "It's something about the baby." Her silence continued and she had closed her eyes again as though that would block out his voice. "Elisabeth, don't shut me out. Not now. Please."

When she opened her eyes again, Darcy realized that instead of trying to ignore him, she'd been blinking back tears. In a shaky voice, she spoke. "I don't think I'm ready for this. I don't go ga-ga over other people's babies. I've been ambivalent about motherhood since the moment I found out I was pregnant. And there are days when I wake up and the baby's been kicking all night and I find myself thinking...thinking that she's not even born and already she's disrupting my life."

Darcy sighed. "I had a feeling that was what it was," he said. "It was either that or the delivery itself."

"The delivery doesn't scare me half as much as what comes after," she told him, "although I have times when I'm scared of that, too. I wish I knew what it is about being pregnant that causes nearly every woman who's gone through it to tell you nightmare stories about labor that lasts three days, complications from hell, and near-death experiences. Doesn't anyone go through a normal labor anymore?"

"I'm sure there are women who do," Darcy said tentatively.

"You couldn't tell from the stories I've heard." Elisabeth grew serious again. "I don't want to turn into my mother."

"You won't be. I know what you're thinking of, but it's not going to happen. You're nothing like your mother. If you were...you wouldn't be the wonderful woman you are."

"I'm not so wonderful. You just think that because you love me. You're supposed to think I'm wonderful no matter what I do."

Darcy's eyebrows rose. "I am? I could be in some serious trouble because you haven't been all that wonderful of late. Don't get me wrong----I love you to death, El, but you haven't been the easiest person to get along with."

Elisabeth glared at him. "Thanks for telling me! How long have you been holding that back?"

"Be honest, Elisabeth. Haven't there been moments when you've thought I was a jerk? Since we started going out, I mean?"

"No."

"Do you really want me to bring up that stupidity with Jack? You slapped me and I hadn't done anything to deserve it."

"Oh." Elisabeth felt her cheeks getting red. "Okay, you've made your point. I'm more like my mother than I realized."

"That's not what I meant!" Darcy almost shouted. "Dammit, Elisabeth, you know that's not what I meant. I've met your mother and I know you and trust me, the two of you aren't alike. In fact, if it weren't for a few features that are similar, I wouldn't think she was your mother at all."

"Do you really think that?"

"Absolutely."

Elisabeth smiled weakly. "It helps me to hear you say that...even if you do precede it with comments insinuating that I'm more like her than I'd like to admit."

"I never said..."

"I know you didn't mean it that way." Elisabeth looked down at the churning water. "My father wouldn't have agreed with you. He thought my mother and I were more alike than either of us were willing to admit. He would say, 'You've got a good head on your shoulders, Ellie, and that you get from me. But you've also got a stubborn streak wider than the Mississippi, and that you get from your mother.'"

"What would he have said in reply to your mother's comment about never understanding you?" Darcy asked.

"I don't know. Probably something about how in addition to a stubborn streak, Ma had no instincts about people and wouldn't recognize a kindred spirit if it introduced itself to her." Elisabeth's smile grew warmer. "Daddy always said things like that."

"About your mother?" Darcy couldn't help but frown about that. He didn't know a whole lot about Elisabeth's father aside from how he'd died. She mentioned him now and again in casual conversation such as this, but she'd never given him much of an idea of what he'd been like. From what he'd just heard, however, he wasn't sure he would've liked him all that much. What sort of man went around saying things like that about his wife?

Elisabeth shrugged. "Ma was much the same way."

"Why on earth did these two people ever get married?" Darcy asked. "It sounds to me like they couldn't stand each other."

"I don't know why they married," Elisabeth said honestly. "I asked Daddy once when I was a kid, but he just laughed and said that stranger things had happened. I always saw them as a divorce waiting for the kids to grow up. Daddy wouldn't leave Ma while we were still living at home because of what had happened to his own mother. But I don't think he would've stayed married to her once we were gone." She gave him a shrewd look. "Not everyone gets to be happy in marriage. It's like Charlie's always saying----'Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.'"

"She didn't say that. Jane Austen did."

Elisabeth splashed water at him. "I knew that. Charlie's fond of saying it, that's all. You were fortunate that you had parents who loved each other. Mine...who knows? Maybe they did love each other once. But by the time I reached the age when I was aware of the world, they didn't anymore. I don't think Ma was to blame any more than Daddy was...it was just the way things were."

"What was your father like?" Darcy asked, seizing the opening.

Elisabeth smiled. "Tall. Very, very tall. He had blond hair and green eyes like mine. Well, you've seen pictures of him. You knew that already." She paused. "He loved to laugh. He had the largest collection of comedy albums that I'd ever seen. When I was a kid, Charlie and I used to sneak out George Carlin tapes to listen to at her house."

Darcy laughed. "Good God...George Carlin? Weren't you two a little young for that stuff?"

"Of course we were. That was part of the appeal. If we'd been boys, we'd probably have been trying to sneak out with his Playboy magazines, but since we were girls, we had to settle for listening to foul language."

"Did you ever get caught?"

"Once. The first time Charlie and I heard his monologue about the seven things you can't say on television, we got to laughing so loud that Charlie's mom heard us. She took the tape away and scolded us severely. I was terrified the whole night that she was going to tell my mother, but the next day she gave the tape to my father."

"And what did he do?"

"Winked at us. Of course, he hid his tapes away after that, but we learned to pick the locks on the cabinet where he put them."

"Clever."

"We were, weren't we?" Elisabeth smiled wistfully. "He was smart. He read almost everything from comic books to War and Peace. But even though I knew he wished I would do better in school, he never criticized me for it like Ma did. He would say, 'Well, Ellie, let's see if we can get through this.' And I would. He loved all three of us, but sometimes I thought he loved me a little better than my sisters, if only to make up for the fact that my mother didn't love me enough." Elisabeth lifted her hand out of the water. "You know, we should get out of here before we turn into prunes."

Darcy nodded absently. "We have one more thing to discuss before we leave this tub...but if we're going to talk about it, I need to get out for a second."

Elisabeth smiled with false innocence. "Should I turn my eyes away so I don't see anything I shouldn't?"

Darcy laughed as he climbed out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist. He left Elisabeth wondering what on earth he thought they needed to do while they were in water. She groaned when he returned with the baby name book and ducked her head underwater. When she surfaced, Darcy was still standing there, still holding the book.

"I told you, we've got to come up with a name for her. 'Brat' simply won't cut it." Darcy got back into the water with her and picked up the book once he was settled. "We'll start with the A's. How about...Agatha?"

Elisabeth shook her head, sending water droplets flying everywhere. "You were joking, right?"

"Of course not. I have three aunts and a great-great-grandmother named Agatha in my family tree."

"Were these aunts and grandmother like your Aunt Catherine? Because if they were, it's just as well we're not naming our child after them." Elisabeth half-lifted herself out of the tub and reached for a dry towel, which Darcy had left sitting just far enough away to keep from getting drenched. She dried her hands and grabbed the book from Darcy. "Now, I'm not saying we have to go with something trendy. As a matter of fact, I think it's better if we don't use something like Tiffany or Britney or anything like that. But we don't want something too old-fashioned like Agatha. How about..." Elisabeth flipped to a random page and stuck her finger on a name. She frowned. "Oops. Rudolph won't do for a girl." She tried this again and smiled. "How about Grace? I like the name Grace."

Darcy pondered this before nodding. "That goes on the list...damn, I didn't bring anything to write with."

"I could always mark it with a water spot."

"I paid good money for that book!" Darcy growled.

"Okay, okay. I'll just fold the page corner and hope we remember what name we liked later." She flipped back to the A's. "You know, I think we should skip 'A' names altogether. When Charlie and I were talking today, I noticed that all of Jack's sisters' names start with that letter."

"So does Jack's," Darcy added. "It's Ashley, remember?"

"Mm. It's kind of put me off 'A' names at the moment." Elisabeth moved on to the B's. "Yuck. Bernadette, Bertha, Brandy, Brenda...oh, here's one. Bridget. I kind of like that name."

"Bridget Jones's Diary," Darcy reminded her. "Maybe not such a good idea."

"I'll still consider it. Bridget Grace...that's pretty. Brianna? I don't think so. You know what I thought was always kind of a cool name? Bronte."

"As in Charlotte, Emily, and Anne?" Darcy teased. "I think Charlie's got those three locked up."

"No, not the first names. The family name. Did you ever see Green Card? No? Well, the heroine's name is Bronte. I don't think it's what I want to name her, but it's a thought."

"Let's keep that one as just a thought, shall we?" Darcy took the book back. "On to C's, we have Caroline, Catherine..."

"You'd better be joking or I'll drown you in this bathtub. Don't think I won't do it just because I'm in here with you."

"Yeah, yeah. On a more serious note, we also have Calista..."

"I'm not naming my baby after Ally McBeal, even if I like the name." Elisabeth yawned.

"Cecilia...Charlene...Christina? Nothing's jumping up and announcing itself as a candidate. How about Carly?"

Elisabeth shook her head. "I have cousins on both sides of my family named Carly."

"Okay, then. In the D's, we have Danielle, which I know is already taken. Dahlia? Isn't that a flower?" Darcy frowned. He hadn't seen anything he'd liked so far. Every time he thought there might be something, Elisabeth didn't like it and he had to start all over again. He'd liked the idea of Agatha, even though she was probably right and it wasn't a good idea. After the two of them decimated the D names, he tossed the book aside.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I don't think the book's doing us any good, and if we sit here going through every single one, we'll never leave. I think we should come up with names on our own. You start."

"Well, like I said, I like Bridget and Grace."

"Okay. How about Rose?"

Elisabeth shrugged. "It's okay, I guess. Megan."

"Possibly. Victoria?" Darcy put a hand up to stop her. "Nah, not Victoria. People will want to call her Vicky or Tori, and I don't like either of those. How about...how about Erica?"

Elisabeth had been about to disagree about Victoria when she stopped. "I like Erica," she said softly. "I've thought about naming her that. But wouldn't you want to include Amelia in there somewhere? I've tried it and they don't go together well."

"We can always name our next daughter Amelia...or Erica." Just as Darcy was about to suggest a few names that would go with Erica, something started beeping. He frowned. "What is that?"

Elisabeth grimaced. "That's my Christmas gift from the company...my very own keeper, also known as a pager. Since Sean's been gone so much over the last few months, Thomas Palmer suggested getting one for me and Bubba so that we could never be truly free of the store. Of course, the idiot forgot that I was going on maternity leave next week and won't be back until the beginning of February." She started to get out of the tub. "If I had the sense God gave a rabbit, I would've left it at home."

"Honey, stay right there. I'll answer your page and tell them where to get off."

"It might be important, Dare! I can't just..."

"Sure you can." Darcy pulled himself out of the tub and walked back into the bedroom without bothering to reach for a towel. Elisabeth closed her eyes and tried not to think of what disaster had befallen the store now. They were back open moments later when she heard him say, "Charlie? Why did you page Elisabeth?"

Elisabeth struggled to get out of the tub. Charlie wasn't working that night, as far as she knew. By the time she'd managed to get out and put her robe on, Darcy was walking back into the bathroom. He reached for his robe and shrugged it on.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Why did Charlie call?" She picked up a towel and started rubbing her hair to get the excess water out. Darcy reached up and took it from her. He set it aside and took her in his arms. "Darcy? What's...what are you doing?"

He kissed the top of her head before putting an arm around her shoulders and steering her toward the bedroom. Elisabeth finally stepped on his foot to make him stop dragging her. "Darcy!" she yelled as he put his arms around her again. Just as she was about to scream, he spoke.

"Elisabeth...your grandmother died."

Elisabeth's mind momentarily went blank. "Grandmother? Grandmother who?"

"Granny Bess. She died a short while ago. Charlie paged you because she didn't have any other way of..."

Granny Bess. It can't be. She's going to live forever. "She's...she's dead?"

Darcy nodded. "Charlie said she had another stroke and...and there was nothing that could be done for her. She died."

Elisabeth shuddered violently as a numbing cold seeped into her body. Darcy led her to the bed and managed to get her to lay down. He took her in his arms and held her as she started crying.

Chapter Forty-Five

The entire Bennet family was in a state of shock over the death of their matriarch, despite the stroke she'd had in August and the fact that she'd been ninety-four years old. Granny Bess had outlived her husband and three of her children. It hadn't seemed implausible for her family to think she would live to see at least one hundred years.

The visitation was held the night before the funeral. Elisabeth had deliberately arranged to work that night, and she knew exactly what she'd done it. She hadn't been ready just yet to see her grandmother in a coffin. She knew it was childish and silly, but the funeral would be soon enough for the tangible proof of Granny Bess's death to be seen. She managed to get through the shift in a numb haze, somehow managing to be polite and occasionally smile at her customers.

Everyone she worked with that night went out of their way to be nice to her, a real rarity for the night crew she had to work with. Before leaving at five, Kit had given her a big hug. Lucy and Caroline had asked her several times how she was doing and tried to fix minor problems that cropped up themselves rather than bringing them to her. If they weren't successful at this, Elisabeth didn't scold them, because she knew they were at least trying. J.P. said very little to her, which was probably for the best. Even Bubba had been nice before he'd left for the day, asking her if she was sure she wanted to work.

At seven-thirty, Jenna, Charlie and Lydia trudged into the store, each dressed in somber colors. Jenna was dressed in a professional-looking navy blue dress with heels. Charlie was dressed much the same, wearing a three-piece outfit in gray. Lydia, on the other hand, wore black jeans with a black halter top. Her only nod to the seriousness of the occasion was a decent attempt at smoothing out her wild tangle of hair by pulling it into a ponytail. Unlike her sister and cousin, Lydia's eyes were not reddened from crying and her makeup looked perfect. If Elisabeth hadn't known better, she would think her youngest sister had just come from a date rather than a visitation.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say something, but she held herself back. "How was it?" she finally asked, walking around to stand in front of the counter.

"About what you'd expect," Charlie said, taking off the jacket of her outfit. "God, I'm hot. The air in that place was stifling."

"Did Uncle Law make it in time?"

"Yeah," Jenna replied. "He got here around four. He's staying with everyone else at Aunt Amanda's. He's looking pretty good. I think California agrees with him."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Yeah, well, you might not be too happy to hear this. Guess who's giving the eulogy tomorrow at the funeral service?" Jenna reached up and pulled her brown hair from its' French twist. It cascaded just past her shoulders in perfect waves.

"Oh, no." Elisabeth looked at Charlie and Lydia and saw them nodding. "Oh, not Aunt Grace."

"Yep," Lydia said glumly.

"Why? Why would they have Aunt Grace give the eulogy when it was Aunt Amanda who helped Granny Bess out all these years? Didn't your grandmother have any objections to this, Charlie?"

"Plenty of them, but you know Aunt Grace."

Elisabeth did indeed. Every family had at least one busybody, and her great-aunt, Grace Cooper, happened to be the one in hers. The eldest of Granny Bess's seven children, she'd been bossy from birth. Even Granny Bess, who had been no slouch in the bossy department, had had moments where her oldest daughter frustrated her at family gatherings.

"Let me guess. She showed up, told Aunt Amanda that she was doing everything wrong, and went about changing it." Elisabeth didn't even need to ask if she was right.

"She wasn't too happy to hear that everything was planned by Granny Bess before she died," Lydia said. "It meant she didn't have anyone to criticize."

"Aunt Natalie and Uncle Law would lynch her if she did," Jenna said.

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Charlie joked. "Wouldn't everyone's lives be simpler if Aunt Grace weren't around? After that time she put me on the spot for half an hour about my skin problem, I'm not looking forward to tomorrow. I don't think anyone is."

"That's sure the truth. She asked me this evening if I'd finally decided to go to college, knowing that I have no interest in going to school ever again. Then she brought up Perfect Little Bethany." Lydia said the name with a sneer. Bethany was Grace's only granddaughter and the pride of her entire family.

"Perfect Little Bethany, who had the highest S.A.T. scores at her exclusive girls' school," Charlie said with a decent impersonation of their great-aunt.

"Perfect Little Bethany, who got that great, high-paying job working for Disney," Jenna muttered.

"Perfect Little Bethany, who married her college boyfriend, whom she never had sex with before they were married because Perfect Little Bethany respected herself enough not to sleep around," Elisabeth finished.

"Be fair, El. She's never said that," Jenna said. "Besides, how would you know that?"

"Forget fair. She's saving that little morsel for tomorrow when she sees me, I just know it. At least I can say I'm getting married." Elisabeth leaned against the counter. "And I know this because she told Ma the summer Bethany got engaged. I was with Jake and we were in that cutesy phase where I was always sitting on his lap and he was always feeding me from his plate."

"You were pretty nauseating then," Lydia said with a slightly squeamish look on her face.

"And obvious," Charlie observed. "So Aunt Grace sees you two and gets to talking with your mother, who agrees with her wholeheartedly that what you're doing is wrong and that Perfect Little Bethany is...perfect."

Elisabeth nodded. "I suppose it's too much to hope that she's not going to be here, also? I can almost tolerate Aunt Grace alone because I know most of the family shares my opinion of her, but everyone thinks Bethany's practically a saint."

"Granny Bess didn't," Charlie said with a sad smile. "She thought Bethany was vapid. Do you remember what she once said when Aunt Grace went on one of her Perfect Little Bethany rants?"

"Something about how Bethany might be perfect, but she would rather have her show a little spirit once in a while," Elisabeth recalled. "She always felt Bethany was a little lifeless because she spent all her time trying to please her mother and grandmother."

"Well, she is," Lydia said. She was obviously getting bored with the conversation, because she smirked at Elisabeth before saying, "Everyone wanted to know where you were. Uncle Law, Uncle Paul, Auntie Natalie, Ma..."

"Ma? What the hell was Ma doing there?" Elisabeth asked, frowning.

"Don't ask me. She was there when we arrived and she was still there when we left. I heard Aunt Grace tell Auntie Natalie that the moment Ma had heard she was in town, she'd called her and asked if there was anything she could do."

"Ma seems really upset about this," Jenna said softly. "You know, I think she might actually have cared about Granny Bess."

Elisabeth's mouth was agape. "Ma? You're joking, right? Ma used to say that when Granny Bess went, she intended to dance on her grave. She called her a nosy old bat. She was furious that Daddy named me after her. I could go on for days, but the point is that Ma did not care for Granny Bess. Not at all."

"I somehow doubt she's coming to the funeral tomorrow to dance on Granny Bess's grave." Lydia grimaced and looked down at the four-inch heels on her feet. "Just because Granny Bess and Ma had their differences doesn't mean they didn't have something in common. They both loved Daddy, didn't they?"

Elisabeth stared at the shoes. "Lydia, why are you wearing those shoes?"

Lydia slipped her left shoe off and, leaning against the counter, massaged her foot with her free hand. "Because I spent good money on them and they fit fine in the store. I didn't realize wearing them was going to be such a pain in the butt. There were two other pairs that had smaller heels than these and fit even better, but I decided on these instead."

"Beauty over comfort," Charlie said with a click of her tongue.

"But why wear them to your grandmother's visitation? It's not like you were going to run into some good-looking guy at the funeral home."

"Yes, Lydia, I was going to ask you if you wore that outfit in a deliberate attempt to provoke half the members of our family," Jenna said with disapproval.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing? It's black, isn't it?"

"You look like you're going on a date," Elisabeth said.

"I am." Lydia put her shoe back on and put her hands on her hips in defiance. "You'll be going home to Darcy. Jenna's got Chazz. Why shouldn't I be with my boyfriend? Isn't that what they're for? To comfort a woman in a time of need? And if you answer yes to that, what does it matter where we're at when he's giving me support? We're not going dancing or anything like that. We're just meeting and having a drink and then going back to his place to be alone, just like you'll be and Jenna and...well, I don't know what Charlie's going to do..."

"Charlie's going to snuggle with her boyfriend," Charlie said, annoyed. "You've made your point. You didn't need to drag me into the middle of it, Lydia."

Elisabeth was struggling not to say anything, knowing how Lydia hated being criticized and knowing that even if she did make a comment, Lydia was likely to blow her off anyway. Besides, she had a point. Elisabeth just hadn't realized that Lydia had a new boyfriend, having told her mafia-hood wannabe goodbye over Columbus Day weekend.

"I'm sorry," Lydia said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "I didn't realize you had a boyfriend. Is it that Bubba who works here?"

"No, it's that Jack who works here," Charlie said hotly.

"You mean cute Jack, with the dimples?"

"Is there another?" Charlie almost shouted.

"Lydia, you might want to shut up before you choke on your foot," Elisabeth told her sister. "Go on your date with...with...what's his name. What is his name?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Lydia said, and with a fling of her ponytail, she stomped out of the restaurant.

"Did you know she had a new boyfriend?" Elisabeth asked Jenna.

"I thought she was still dating the old one, but I've been behind the times lately with the move and everything else. I'm surprised she hasn't talked about it more. You know how she is."

"All too well," Charlie said grimly. "You'd think I had a hump on my back or warts all over my face, the way she talks about me."

"She gets that from Ma," Elisabeth commented. "Ma's always surprised when I mention that you dated Darcy for a while. I don't think it's because she thinks you're ugly. She just thinks you're antisocial."

"Anti...does she even knows what the word means?"

"She doesn't mean it in the clinical sense," Jenna said in a soothing voice. "You and I would automatically think that way because of what we do, but my mother doesn't. And in the everyday use of the term, she's right. You don't get out much."

Charlie shrugged. "What's the point?" With a sigh, she muttered, "There has to be a way to avoid having to listen to Aunt Grace ramble on for two hours about Granny Bess. Do you suppose we could lock her in the basement like we did you and Chazz until the funeral's over?"

"Charlie, that's a hell of an idea," Jenna said, chuckling. "Unfortunately, your grandmother would get to feeling guilty about it and let her out. Besides, we'd have to lock Bethany in there with her, and no one would let us do that."

"It was a nice thought, though," Elisabeth murmured as the front door opened and a quartet of giggling teenagers walked into the restaurant.

The funeral of Elisabeth Walker Bennet was held the Friday after she died. Elisabeth thought it fitting that it started snowing early that morning, because Granny Bess had loved snow. She used to say, "All those romantics who write about spring miss out on all the fun of winter. What's more romantic than being snowed in with someone you love?"

Dressed in the black maternity gown she'd bought especially for the funeral, Elisabeth was accompanied by Darcy into the chapel of the First Baptist Church. He put an arm around her for support, which came in handy as Elisabeth felt her legs get weak upon first seeing the coffin, which had placed near the pulpit where the pastor stood every Sunday. Her eyes filled with tears.

"I can't believe she's gone," she said in a choked voice. "I just can't believe..."

"I know, sweetheart," Darcy murmured, embracing her. Elisabeth let him hold her for a minute, allowing herself to be enveloped in the warmth and support that he offered, before pulling away from him. She walked over to the coffin and looked inside.

Granny Bess somehow looked younger than she had in recent weeks, her green eyes now closed forever. Elisabeth wondered if the small, Mona Lisa-like smile on her face was a figment of her imagination or real. What had she been thinking or dreaming of in the moments before death had taken her? Had she been thinking of the family she'd raised? The man she'd loved so dearly, whom she had been shortly to join? Or had she been thinking of nothing at all?

"I don't know if you're fortunate or not," Darcy said, putting an arm around her again. "I never saw my parents again after the crash. I didn't attend the burials, just a memorial service for my mother. Every so often for about a year, I caught myself wondering if they had really died because I hadn't had a chance to say goodbye."

"I'd rather have this than uncertainty." Elisabeth noticed that someone had tucked several photographs on the inside of the coffin. The largest was of Grace and her family, of course. There were posed pictures from various other family members, and then, to her surprise, a snapshot taken on Granny Bess's last birthday. In the picture, Granny Bess was standing between Elisabeth and Charlie, the three of them grinning like idiots. Jenna had taken the picture, but she'd given it to Granny Bess.

"I'm surprised that's in here," Elisabeth said, touching the photo. "Jenna must've come across it and put it there."

"It's a good picture of you," Darcy commented. "Of all three of you, in fact."

"Yeah," she said absently. She noticed that the church was beginning to fill up, so she walked away from the front of the church and over to where Charlie and Jack were sitting. Charlie was wearing all black today, while Jack wore a suit and tie and looked very professional. "Hi," she said as she slid into the pew next to Charlie.

"Hi." Charlie toyed with a handkerchief she'd brought along with her. Her eyes were already red.

"Jenna and Chazz here yet?"

Charlie shook her head. "No sign of Jenna or Lydia, but your mother's here. She and Aunt Grace have been in conference together all morning. I'd forgotten how well the two of them got along until I saw them."

Elisabeth sighed in disgust. "I still don't think it's right, her being here when she and Granny Bess couldn't stand each other."

"She might be here because of your father," Charlie suggested. "I heard Aunt Grace asking her a few things about him."

Elisabeth was slightly mollified by Charlie's answer, but she still had her suspicions. She wouldn't put it past her mother to make some sort of scene at the funeral. She leaned against Darcy's shoulder and tried not to cry as the piano player she hadn't noticed before started playing "Amazing Grace."

Elisabeth frowned, and as she looked over at Charlie, she could see her doing the same thing.

"This isn't what she would've wanted," Charlie muttered.

"What isn't what she wanted? The church, the funeral, or your aunt's eulogy?" Jack asked.

"The music," Elisabeth said, sitting up straight. "She liked this song, but she never wanted it played at her funeral. She wanted something more modern. She used to joke that she was going to have them play 'Stairway to Heaven.'"

Jack coughed violently to cover up the fact that he was trying not to laugh. "Led Zeppelin? Your grandmother was a fan of Led Zeppelin?"

"No. She just used to joke that she'd have the song played. She loved the Beatles, though. They should be playing something like...oh, I don't know..." Elisabeth wasn't much of a Beatles fan and couldn't remember any of their songs.

"I think 'Yesterday' might not be a bad choice," Charlie mused. "Or maybe 'Tears in Heaven,' because she liked Eric Clapton, too. But not this. This one has to be Aunt Grace's doing."

"It might be considered sacrilegious to play the Beatles in a church," Darcy said.

"I went to a funeral once where they played 'It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday,' and that service was at St. Anthony's. I say that if Granny Bess wanted Eric Clapton to be played at her funeral, then by God, it should be." Charlie stood up and stepped around Jack.

"Don't make a scene, Charlie," Elisabeth urged. "If Aunt Grace insists on doing it this way, then..."

"May the Lord forgive me for saying this in church, but to hell with what Aunt Grace insists on doing," Charlie hissed. The song came to an end, only to be followed with an unfamiliar but no doubt equally religious selection. "We may have to put up with her undoubtedly long-winded and self-serving eulogy, but I'll be hanged if I let her run the entire show. By the way, there's your mother, El." Charlie pointed at one of the side entrances to the chapel before walking over to the piano.

Elisabeth looked over at where Charlie had pointed. She wasn't surprised to find that her mother was talking to Grace, who was holding a thick stack of note cards. What did surprise her was to see her mother holding two or three sheets of paper as well.

"Don't tell me Grace is actually going to let someone else speak," a new voice said from behind them said. Elisabeth turned to see her Uncle Paul standing above them. "But why Eric's wife, of all people?"

"If I knew that answer to that one, Uncle Paul, I'd tell you." Elisabeth got to her feet and threw her arms around him.

Paul Kolcheck was everyone's favorite uncle. Despite being seventy-five, he was still a huge bear of a man and was proud to say that he was in better shape than many men half his age. He was married to their Aunt Natalie.

"Oh, kiddo...you look like you're about to have that baby here and now," he said with a grin. "I don't suppose we could bribe you into doing it, if only to ruin Grace's perfect arrangements."

"She has a mind of her own, so it won't surprise me if she decides to wait until Christmas to be born so she can get double the presents." Elisabeth smiled as they separated. "Uncle Paul, this is Darcy Williamson. He's my fiancé."

Paul looked Darcy over for a minute before saying, "High time you decided to marry her, young man. Put it off a bit late, don't you think?"

"No, Uncle Paul, he's not...um..." Elisabeth lowered her voice. "He's not the baby's biological father."

"I know that. Everyone in the family knows that, Ellie. But your mother's been burning everyone's ears off, talking about how she just knew you were going to do something to mess things up between you two and then you'd never get married."

Elisabeth's smile grew grim. "That's Ma for you. Always a pillar of support."

Uncle Paul looked around. "I thought I saw one of those Lucas girls running around here. Where'd she go?"

"Charlie went to have a few words with..." Elisabeth's explanation became moot when the pianist abruptly stopped playing and stalked over to Aunt Grace. In her absence, Charlie took a seat and began playing "Tears in Heaven."

Uncle Paul snickered. "So it's Charlie. I figured it would be that spitfire sister of hers, Danie." He listened for a few minutes. "I don't know what that is she's playing, but it's kind of nice."

Grace hurried over to the piano. In response to her lecture, Charlie continued playing and refused to speak. After a few minutes, Grace went to talk to her sister, but found Amanda smiling at her granddaughter and refusing to order Charlie to play something more "appropriate." Conceding defeat with a glare, Grace went back to talking to Elisabeth's mother. As Elisabeth had expected, Charlie turned control of the piano back to the pianist as soon as she'd finished playing the song.

"Well, I feel better about this," Charlie said. "Let them play all the church music in the world. I know that somewhere in heaven, Granny Bess got to hear a song she liked. Hi, Uncle Paul." She gave him a hug and introduced him to Jack before sitting down again. Paul then wandered off to say hello to some newcomers, leaving the four of them in an extended silence.

Elisabeth was glancing at her watch for the tenth time when she heard Charlie give a strangled gasp. She looked over at Charlie to see that her cousin's face was getting red. Her green eyes had hardened with anger and she was glaring at the back entrance to the church. She tapped Jack on the shoulder several times before getting his full attention. He turned to see what Charlie was staring at and looked confused more than anything.

"What is he doing here?" Jack asked.

Elisabeth decided she'd better take a look at who had brought about this reaction...and saw Lydia.

With her arms around George Wickham.

Everything fell into place for Elisabeth. George was obviously the boyfriend Lydia had been in such a rush to get to last night. No wonder she hadn't wanted to tell anyone about him, she thought angrily. She turned to face the front of the church in an effort to compose her features, because she knew her face had to be getting as red with anger as Charlie's.

She still ran into George at the store from time to time, and on those occasions, she did her best to ignore him. He did the same to her since the tests had proven that he was the father of the baby. His reaction was even stranger around Darcy. Whenever he saw him, he made as quick a getaway as he could, which struck Elisabeth as very odd. She supposed George might have some fear that Darcy would knock him out again as he had in the bowling alley, but she didn't think that was it.

"Did you know he was going to be here?" Darcy asked her in a low voice.

Elisabeth shook her head. "I knew Lydia was seeing someone new, but I didn't have any idea that it was him. Believe me, if I had, I would've said something long before now. What amazes me is that she hasn't."

"She's waving at us," Charlie said through clenched teeth as she deliberately turned away without responding.

Elisabeth's gaze had fallen squarely on her grandmother's coffin, which drove most of her thoughts away. This wasn't the time to worry about what George was up to with her younger sister, what Lydia was thinking of by bringing him here, or what implications this might have on her and the baby. They were here because of Granny Bess, and she wasn't going to let thoughts of George Wickham bother her...at the moment.

"Thankfully, they're going to sit with your mother," Jack said. "I thought for a second we were going to have a brawl, because it looked like she was wanting to stop and talk to us."

"I think she got the hint," Charlie mumbled, turning her eyes to the back of the church in time to see Chazz and Jenna walk in.

Once everyone was seated, the pastor led everyone in an opening prayer before Grace Cooper walked to the pulpit, cleared her throat, and said, "Good morning, everyone. I'm glad to see that so many of my mother's friends and family have come to pay their final respects to her. I know that Mother would be touched if she knew how loved she was by all of you."

So far, so good, Elisabeth thought cynically.

"Sarepta Elisabeth Walker was born on February 5, 1908, in Alton, Illinois. Her father, Samuel Walker, was a farmer and her mother, Sarah, was a farmer's wife. My mother had nine brothers and sisters, all of them growing up in a little farmhouse. I remember that Mother used to tell stories about growing up with few luxuries in life. I think about how easy my life is today compared to how hers was then, and it makes me realize what a difficult life she had growing up.

"She was sixteen when she met and married Roy Bennet. He was also a farmer, and he brought his new bride to his family's home in Effingham. As a wedding present to the young couple, Roy's father gave his son a few acres to work on, and it was in the small house they built where I was born. Later on there was Roy Jr, Lawrence, Natalie, Jeremy, Amanda, and Frank. I can tell you from personal experience that Mother's life didn't get easier with seven children in the house, all under the age of twelve. She worked from sunrise to make sure we got off to school until well after sundown, making sure we all had our homework done. She never complained about having to work so hard. She never complained about anything. How many of us can say the same?"

Grace flipped over one of the note cards. "She never complained when my father, Roy, became blind due to his diabetes. She just worked that much harder to keep the family going. Single-handedly, she moved the family into town and got a job so that the bills would be paid. Yet even though she worked twelve-hour shifts six days a week, she still came home and took care of my father. She always demanded to see the children's homework. She made sure that our lives would be better than hers, and she never complained.

"When I think of how I've reacted to some of the difficulties in my life, I know that I never handled anything as well as my mother did. There have been times when I didn't pay as much attention to my children as Mother did to all of us. There were days when I didn't feel like doing anything after coming home from work, and I let my family know about it. Just the thought of having to walk two miles to and from work every day makes my feet ache."

"When did this become about her?" Elisabeth hissed in Charlie's direction.

"All of these things make me realize more than ever what an admirable woman my mother was. And I realize now, perhaps too late, how much I'm going to miss her."

Elisabeth's gaze slid sideways and found Charlie rolling her eyes as Grace continued to speak, comparing her life to her mother's and every so often pausing to say she didn't know how her mother had done it. At last, she cleared her throat and said, "And now, Ruth Atchison has something she would like to say."

"Oh, God," Elisabeth mumbled. "Here we go."

Ruth walked up to the pulpit, set down the sheets of paper, and looked around the chapel. "I know that many of you will think it odd that I'm standing here today. Most of you know that during her life, Bess Bennet and I didn't get along well."

"An understatement," Charlie said under her breath.

"But I'm not here today to talk about what I felt. I'm here because..." Ruth's eyes started to get watery. "Because I have something my late husband, Eric, wrote. Most of you know Eric's story already, but I don't know if any of you understand how much Bess meant to him. He told her all of this when he found out he was dying, but he wrote it down and asked me to read it at her funeral so that everyone would understand."

Ruth's voice quavered at the end, and it took her a moment to regain control of herself. When she was ready, she read Eric's letter.

The first memory I have of my grandmother is the day she took my mother and I in. It was about a year after my father had left us. My mother, Mickey, had been too proud to accept help from anyone until the day came when she could no longer refuse. Her head was bowed and her cheeks were red, though I didn't understand why at the time. But when Granny Bess opened the door, she gave my mother a hug and made her feel as though she were the prodigal child coming home rather than the discarded wife of her deadbeat son. Then she bent down, picked me up, and brought me into the warmth of her house...and her life.

It was Granny Bess who helped my mother finish getting an education and helped her find a job. She was also the one who was holding my mother's hand when she found out that she was dying. And it was Granny Bess who took care of my mother until her death. She never said a word in anger or frustration, and she made sure that my mother was as comfortable as possible before she died.

She then took on the responsibility of raising a young child long even though there were relatives willing to welcome me into their families. I asked her once why she'd done this, and she said, "Because I didn't want you to get lost in someone else's herd." And I never did. I always knew that Granny Bess loved me very much, and I never felt like I was an obligation she had to take care of. In some ways, I felt that I was more special than I might've been, because of what she'd done for me. She wasn't shy about telling me when I was wrong and in disciplining me when I needed it, but she always made sure I knew how much she loved me. I can only hope she knew how much I loved her in return.

In conclusion, I'd like to leave you with a story. The day of my mother's funeral, I was standing in the church, thinking about my mother as I'm sure all of you are now thinking of Granny Bess. I was angry about a lot of things and at a lot of people that day. I was angry with God for letting my mother die. I was angry with the doctors for not being able to do anything. I was even angry at my mother for dying. I sat in the front pew and stared at my mother's casket and hated her for leaving me.

Granny Bess took a seat beside me and asked me what was wrong. I don't remember what I said, but what she said to me lingers in my memory to this day. She said, "Eric, it does no good to get angry with anyone about death. You have to focus on the good that people leave on earth when they die. You have to realize how lucky you were to have someone so special in your life, and be grateful that they were here with you. And most important of all, you have to think of all the happy times you had with them so that they'll always be a part of your soul."

At the time, I shrugged off her words as the sort of sympathetic tripe that people say when someone has died, and it was a while before I understood what she meant. While these words may hold little meaning for you now, I hope that someday, her words will comfort you as they did me. She would've liked that.

Ruth sniffled audibly before taking a seat beside Grace. Elisabeth stared at the back of her head with teary eyes, wondering if Jenna was right, and maybe Ruth had cared for Granny Bess....in her own way.

Following the funeral came a potluck dinner, cooked by various members of the church Granny Bess had attended every Sunday since her marriage to Roy Bennet. The family crowded into the basement of the church to eat and socialize. Some of them were talking about Granny Bess----Uncle Law had a group of people around him, hearing him tell far more interesting stories about Granny Bess's younger days than Aunt Grace had in her eulogy. Others were talking about Christmas, while others were catching up with relatives they hadn't seen in quite a while.

"The nerve of that girl," Charlie muttered as she swiped a hot roll from the platter on the table. "Elisabeth, I know she's your sister and unfortunately a relative of mine, but I can't believe she's acting as though we should be thrilled she brought George to the funeral." Charlie and Jack had had an unpleasant encounter with George shortly before Jack's departure for work. According to Charlie, George had been smug when asking about Elisabeth and Darcy, only to have Charlie ask him if he really preferred looking like half a raccoon.

"I can't believe George Wickham actually had the audacity to show up at the funeral of my grandmother." Elisabeth scooped up a deviled egg. "And since when is he going out with Lydia? And why?"

"Good questions that have no answers," Darcy said, putting a spoonful of mashed potatoes on his plate. "I don't think your mother knew, if the look on her face when they walked in was any indication. She was not happy about it at all."

"Good. Maybe now Lydia will finally find out what it's like to be on the wrong end of Ma's disapproval. She didn't think George Wickham was good enough for me, so he's certainly not going to be good enough for her sweet little Lydia."

"No one is good enough for Lydia," Charlie pointed out as she reached the end of the table, where the drinks were located. Picking up a glass of lemonade, she waited for Elisabeth and Darcy to finish choosing what they wanted to eat before the three of them made their way to Jenna and Chazz, who were saving them seats.

"Talking about Lydia and George?" Jenna asked as they sat down.

"Yeah," Darcy mumbled, giving a quick glance over to where the subjects of their conversation were sitting. To his surprise, they were right next to Ruth, who had a small smile on her face. "You may be wrong, El. It looks like George might be charming your mother."

Elisabeth had deliberately chosen a seat so she wouldn't have to look at him, which now forced her to whirl in her chair to see what he was talking about. "Doesn't surprise me at all," she said with a dismissive shrug, turning back to the table. "George was always a charming as a snake when he wanted to be. Why do you think I put up with him as long as I did?"

"Snake is a good description for George," Charlie said before picking up the chicken leg on her plate and taking a bite.

"Look, guys, he's here and that's all there is to it. For some reason that only George's twisted, slimy little mind knows, he's attached himself to Lydia. I doubt he cares much about her and you know that Lydia's never been the constant type, so I doubt their relationship lasts until Christmas. I'm not going to worry myself about it." Elisabeth took a drink of weak lemonade and grimaced, wishing she could've had a soda. "I told myself when I saw him that I wasn't going to let him bother me today, and I want you guys to do the same."

"It's no big deal to me," Charlie said. "I know you're right about both of them. I just want to be sure that you're okay."

"I'm fine," Elisabeth assured her. "Really. I've got something ten times better than George Wickham in my life, I've got a baby...coming soon, and most of all, I don't care what new mind game he's playing. It won't work with me, because I'm so far past him he'll never catch up." She smiled. "Today is about Granny Bess."

"Yeah," Charlie said, smiling as well as she started telling the first of her many Granny Bess stories.

Continued In Next Section