Posted on Sunday, 22 April 2001
I hate my name.
Passionately, vehemently.
When people ask me what my name is, I utter a prayer that fate would be so kind as to introduce me to an illiterate slob who doesn't know the difference between this name, and the next; someone who will forget my name, easily.
But no, there are those freaks who just grin and smile. "Caroline Bingley? Like the snit in Pride & Prejudice?"
And to them I simply reply huffily, "Pride and Prejudice? I don't read Tolstoy."
I have nothing against the Caroline Bingley of Jane Austen's work, if you like the kind of girl who...um, yeah. I'll say that she comes close, but, well, she's just not me. I'm far more arrogant, and much, much more snide. And so, if I could choose a name that would suit me more, I would not diverge from the Jane Austen theme my parents are so fond of; I'd simply choose a heroine who suited my personality more.
Emma Woodhouse. I was born to be Emma Woodhouse. She is just the right amount of conceit, vanity, and wealth. I am marked for platinum blond greatness, from the Audrey Hepburn sunglasses that I wear on my head to the perfect Steve Madden shoes that I wear on my feet. I am Emma. In glorious living color.
There are just some things you can't change, no matter how capable you are.
I think the first thing I would list under that category would have to be my best friend, Elizabeth Bennet. (You can snicker at the Jane Austenism of this...but remember that she is my friend, so I wouldn't dare think any lower or her or me because of a silly coincidence.)
Elizabeth's absolutely delightful. I don't know how else to describe it. I've never met anyone so driven and so enthusiastic in my life; she'll go far, that's for sure. Regardless of whether or not she has any money right now.
Liz is flat broke.
And why do I let her live with me, you ask? I don't know. Perhaps I've got a kind soul. But I don't think it's that. I think she just amuses me.
In the old days artists would find patrons. I think of myself as a patroness. But I'm not Catherine de Bourgh. Don't think I'm a snob and a half for thinking the way I think. You can classify me with things like my clothes, my cell phone, my car, my home...but only for material reasons, please; that's my aim.
By all means I like to think myself as quite a noble and wonderful person. I try to do at least one good thing a day.
I met Liz at Wellesley last year, when I was finishing up my last year in the architecture program. Liz was on scholarship, and finishing her junior year and she was highly doubtful of being able to afford her senior year.
Of course I felt bad, and she was really quite interesting. I love her writing. So I took her in, and hooked her up with a job at a trendy and artsy lit magazine.
And I have to say it has been one of the best things I've ever done in my life.
Elizabeth is a great companion.
Now, don't think that I treat her horridly, like some servant. What kind of person do you think I am?
No, she lives as my equal and she pays a certain rent. I just own the building so it does not matter what I charge her; I'm entirely too rich, as dear Wills is always reminding me.
A week ago I threw a housewarming party.
I'd just bought this flat last month, after all.
Anyhow, I had my friends come over. They were excited for me, of course. What are friends other than people who feel your happiness and mark off each and every event in your life, oh so sympathetic, like a Greek chorus?
It was a small intimate group; My brother, my sister and that dirtbag she calls husband, and of course Wills, Georgia and Richard.
Charles, my brother, is a smiling idiot. He's really nice and all, but boy that guy has been convinced repeatedly that gullible is not in the dictionary.
Never learns either.
Louisa...poor misguided thing. It wasn't her fault she was spoiled rotten as a child.
And don't get me started on her husband. I'm still hoping he'll sober up and Louisa will see him for what he really is...not like being drunk helps him any.
And that leaves the Darcys. And they are delightful.
My best friend is a guy. His name is William Darcy. I know, you're thinking ooh Darcy, and that I ought to fall in love with him fast and steal him away before any Elizabeths come along, especially with William the way he is: he's smart, and brutally hot and all. The name just drives girls up the wall. He also has an adorable British accent that makes literature buffs squeal in delight, cooing over his oh-so-sexiness.
He's also extremely stuck up. Most girls think it's a ploy, but no, that's just William being a stuck up snot.
Which makes him my friend. It's absolutely perfect. He's the only person I know who is stuck up and self-absorbed enough to hang out with me.
He's the closest I'll ever come to falling in love. But I couldn't fall in love with him; we're too selfish for each other and would compete for our own attentions all the time.
Now Georgia's a sweetheart. Innocent and all that jazz. I love her to death.
And those are my friends.
You say I forgot to mention one?
Oh yeah. Richard. Richard is William's and Georgia's cousin.
If I had to choose one word to describe Richard Fitzwilliam...hmm...hardy.
He is the Midwest of America, personified. Him and those well-toned arms from working out and working hard. No pretty boy exec job in the streets of downtown for him. No, Richard is from Chicago.
Well at least he doesn't really work. He's a professor. He spends a lot of time...professing?
I don't know. Anyhow, he appears to love it.
Well that's better than what he was doing a few years ago. After he'd finished grad school he decided to run off to Venezuela to work on a ranch there, because he was bored one day after he'd gotten his PhD. Then he'd been in Africa doing some work with the Peace Corps.
Richard's just in another dimension on his own. And he can't help it, I guess; it's just in his nature.
Of course, he's of course really handsome. I don't go for his type; it's so...wholesome. Sun-streaked brown hair, frank honest blue eyes. And so...very...fit. Not to say I'm a lard, actually I'm very healthy and fit, thanks to my 2 mile jogs every other day.
Richard is also very intelligent; I think he's a poli sci prof and he's really good. He's been quoted and stuff and recognized. And I'm sure you're thinking "ooh...intelligence is sexy"...but no. His style, while I'm sure it drives many a woman up the wall, does not have that effect on me.
I hate Richard.
You would of course ask me to explain why; well I can't tell you because I have no idea why. Well, yeah, actually I know part of the reason is in the way he treats me; he does not.
Of course when he entered the house I hissed to William, "What is he doing here?"
William smirked. "I thought you missed him."
"I think he could have stayed in Panama or Nicaragua or Paraguay or Uzbekistan..." I muttered as I now unconsciously adjusted my curls to make sure they would not fall out of place. I stayed to watch Wills and Georgia take off their coats and took them and hung them up in the closet, and then left Richard to hang up his own, (he likes doing things on his own anyhow).
"Friends, I'd like you to meet my friend Liz. She'll be staying with me this summer."
Right off, I wanted to laugh. The situation was hilarious. William and Georgia were in their J Crew wear, with accents from Banana. Liz was in a T-shirt that said "Super 7s" and a pair of old jeans. Wills's and Georgia's eyes were widened, and they turned to me. Liz smirked.
I was very amused. Liz looked at me as if she were already on the floor rolling in her laughter.
Richard of course liked her. She looked like a wholesome kind of girl. Tough luck Richard. She's not interested. I've got bigger plans for her.
William gave me one of those reproachful looks. "What are you doing to yourself, Caroline? She's...dirty..." he said, in the same tone he'd say "she's not housebroken."
Of course Liz heard that, and she snorted.
Liz does not snort.
I laughed.
Oh dearie dear Wills, I do think I've found you a good adversary.
Which is good; you said you were rather bored.
So the dinner party didn't go well.
Wills made sure to tell me that I was going insane the next Saturday when we got together for lunch.
We of course ate at one of those posh cafes. Wills is such a snob.
"Darling."
"My dearest Caroline," he greeted me sarcastically with a reluctant kiss on the cheek.
"Whatever is the matter?"
"What is the matter? What were you thinking? I'm really worried about you. What do you think you're doing with that little...thing that lurks on your third floor?"
"You mean Elizabeth?"
"Yes, I mean Elizabeth."
"She's quite amusing, Wills, really. I like her. She is my friend. Are you saying you don't like my friends?"
"I'm saying I don't like her."
"I don't like your cousin, but I put up with him."
"You can't choose relatives, and I have no idea why Richard wanted to come that night. He was in town and we were going out and he invited himself along."
"You know I can't stand Richard."
"And you knew I wouldn't be able to stand Elizabeth."
"No I did not, as a matter of fact. I had no idea that you'd also be so snobby. Wills, you really are such a selfish snobby creature."
Wills remained silent, and then narrowed his eyes. "Caroline, you aren't trying to pull a Jane Austen on me, are you? Elizabeth Bennet?"
"No, I think Liz is a darling, and I like taking care of her. If you find her inexplicably attractive to the point of frustration, well then it's your problem, not mine, because I like Liz, and I'm going to keep her around."
Liz's reaction to Wills was not much better; in fact, perhaps it was worse, because she didn't speak to me about him at all.
That was grievous indeed, for if she did not feel attracted to Wills (and I knew Wills liked her, despite all his whining) then there would be some very ugly tension between them.
But I couldn't just bring it up with Liz; she's very astute, and she'd either suspect:
1) I was in love with Wills
2) Wills was in love with her and didn't have the guts to tell her himself.
Either was not very appealing, so I kept quiet (and it was very difficult, I'll tell you.)
But I didn't hesitate to shove them together in company as many times as I could. Granted, some of those encounters were quite ugly for me.
Do you know how frustrating it is to watch those two? Let me give you an idea...
WILLS: (frustrated sullen pacing)LIZ: Do you have something up your-
CAROLINE: Liz, I forgot to tell you earlier that your mother called.
WILLS and LIZ: (silence)
CAROLINE: What a coincidence, I just realized; Wills has a mother too.
LIZ and WILLS: (scowls)
Really, I guess that was a bad thing for me to say, but the tension had to be rid of! I mean, they were both too dense to see that I was shoving them together, so I was allowed to be as obvious and blatant as I wanted.
Of course, not everyone was stupid. Georgia once took me aside and asked me if I was on prozac, trying to get Wills together with someone else, when it was so obvious that I would make Georgia a nastier sister-in-law.
Georgia didn't take well to Liz either at first, but that changed as soon as Liz started talking about her adventures in dating, shopping, etc. Georgia was absolutely fascinated with the common girl's experience-ate that stuff up, I'm telling you.
Georgia wasn't the only one who noticed.
One day as I was preparing to go out for a jog, Richard came by.
First, he had to give one of those patronizing looks at my ensemble. "You know, for a second, if I ignored that stunning face of yours, you might pass for one of my girlfriends."
"Don't flatter yourself. I'm out," I tried to slip out by him.
"Just wait a second," he came in, closed the door behind him.
I stood, hand on hip, waiting expectantly for what he had to say.
For a minute he didn't say a word, paced around, trying to sort his ideas out.
"If you're here to confess undying love for me, you're doing a horrible job of it."
"Will you just shut up for a minute?" he glared at me.
My eyes widened and I stepped back for a moment, and gained my bearings. He actually looked truly upset. Not accustomed to dealing with Upset Richard, I remained silent.
"William is very very surly. He's not amusing to be with anymore. What are you trying to do to him?"
"I'm not trying to do anything."
"I would just recommend being very careful around him. I'm worried," he shrugged.
Well, if there was something that we agreed on, Richard and I both liked Wills to be happy. "I know what I'm doing. I love Wills. I want to make him happy."
Richard's face paled, taken aback. I wanted to laugh. It's not everyday when you can faze Richard Fitzwilliam.
"Well, then, um, best wishes."
He shot me an odd look, and he slipped out the door.
I just don't understand him.
Well, if Richard's report meant anything, it meant that Liz was getting to Wills, and so I determinedly pushed her more in his face over the course of the next few weeks.
Some time mid-July, Liz went away to visit a friend of ours who'd gotten married this past year. Liz was not crazy about the husband, as he was a lecherous sort of man, but she did love Cher, and so put up with him.
Cherrie Lucas had graduated my year, and had gotten married immediately after college; it wasn't as if her biological clock was ticking, and I certainly didn't encourage it, and neither did Liz. But she got married against our wishes and it was very messy, and I nearly disowned her. (That's another story.)
Now, I'm sure you're wondering why I wasn't invited. Well I was, but I couldn't go; I'm actually quite important in my company, and there was an architect forum in Hawaii that weekend. I would have loved to join Bill Collins in Pomfrett, Vermont...oh so much. *eyes have now stopped rolling, as have fallen onto floor*
I was going to miss those two, but even if they were running away to Paris for the weekend without Bill, I would have still had to go to Hawaii, and therefore I had to be selfishly pleased with myself, as I wasn't really missing anything fun.
Well, I went to Hawaii and got a tan. Elizabeth went away and got a marriage proposal.
I'm sure if it were up to William I would have never heard about it. A proposal, from my dear Wills? Wow indeed. I almost didn't believe it.
Except for the credibility of the source.
I had just gotten back from Hawaii, so I sported my beautiful tan with a complementary white linen suit the day I got back. I was on the phone with a client when Richard, very mad indeed, stormed into my office, with my poor secretary following him meekly.
I nodded to her to show her I understood and I would not fire her for letting a very determined and angry man from getting past her desk. Relieved, she turned around and exited. I continued to speak to my client. In fact, though I had been about to hang up with her, I just remembered many things my client and I had not yet addressed, so I had to stay on with her an extra fifteen minutes so I could ask her my many questions.
Finally, I hung up the phone, wrote down some notes, then looked at Richard over the top of my sophisticated glasses. "Yes?"
Richard growled back. "I thought you said you loved him."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"You told me just a few weeks ago that you knew what you were doing, and that you loved him. And then you turned him down!"
Confused, I took off my glasses, and looked at him. "Richard, what in the world are you talking about?"
"William! What else? Treating him like a pet, declaring so unabashedly that you love him, and then saying no."
"You've lost me. What did I say no to?"
Richard's lips thinned into an angry line. I remained silent and let him collect his thoughts. "He proposed."
"To me?" I asked, incredulously.
"Who else?" He replied, bitterly. "I knew you didn't have feelings for him. I warned you, but no..."
"Richard, he didn't..."
"I told you! I'm not an idiot..."
"Richard!"
He looked at me.
"Wills didn't propose to me."
"But he..."
"When was all this?"
"In the past week...I figured he proposed to you before we went away to Vermont."
Vermont? Where Liz went? I needed details.
Now one may ask what he and Richard were doing at Pomfrett, Vermont. Well, of all odd coincidences, his aunt owned the ski lift company that was building new ski lifts on the Suicide Six, and she decided to ask him to go to Pomfrett on her legal behalf.
Well Bill owned the ski lodge at which Wills was staying, and where, incidentally, Liz was staying at as well.
Well, there it was. I interrupted Richard's story. "Richard, you idiot!" I hissed. "He didn't propose to me! He proposed to Liz!"
"No way. Liz is not his type..."
"That shouldn't stop anyone," I replied defensively.
Richard watched me, as he made the realization. "You set them up..."
I sat back. "Brilliant deduction, Holmes," I said sarcastically.
"That's what you meant..." he said, looking into my eyes. "...by saying you knew what you were doing..."
"What did you think I...you thought Wills was in love with me?"
The idea was foreign, and very...discomfiting. Wills in love with me? I looked at Richard. He was staring at his feet, and looked up at me. Made eye contact.
I cleared my throat. "Wills and I aren't like that. Wills proposed to Liz. I'm sure of it. I didn't expect it so soon, though..." I cleared my throat again. My voice was husky.
Richard went to the window of my office. "I guess it'd make sense," he said at length, and sat back down across from me in the seat in front of my desk.
We remained silent for a while. Uncomfortable, I looked out the window.
"So you're not in love with William?"
"No."
Richard got up. "I think I've disrupted your morning long enough. Um...have a nice day."
So apparently, they were in each other's company quite a lot, from what Cher told me when I phoned her immediately after Richard left.
That didn't help Wills, though; she still turned him down.
I'll say that Liz's response didn't surprise me. After all, she never mentioned him after they'd met, and I know he was quite the prick when they were introduced.
But why didn't anyone tell me? Liz couldn't even tell me.
Perhaps that made me continue to believe there was hope; if she truly hated Wills, she would have relished in recounting the story to me in lush exaggerated detail. The very fact that she didn't say a word meant quite a bit, I was sure.
This was not the end of the story. It was the turning point.
I called Wills up that evening, because I knew he'd want a friend, and we met for lunch the next day.
Of course, he hid it, and I just pretended I didn't know about the whole thing; if I brought it up it would have been nasty and mean.
Well, in August, Liz went back to Wellesley, and Georgia began her freshman year there. I don't know what drove her to do it, but she graciously offered Liz a place in her small house off campus, and charged her entirely too little for rent. (Well, I had my suspicions on who urged Georgia to do it.)
Grossman and Roberts, my firm, continued business as usual, but with one difference: I got a new project, which was more under the supervision of the New York office, so I started working and shopping in New York three out of the five working days of the week, and spending my weekends in Boston, where I visited Wills at Harvard Law and Georgia and Liz at Wellesley (Only occasionally did I try to arrange get-togethers with them all; it was out of my hands now.)
I could tell when Wills was having a good week, and when it had to do with Liz. I always believed men were so obvious when they were in love, but I never believed it of Wills.
From snippets of phone calls with Georgia I knew that Wills made trips out to Wellesley to check on Georgia quite a bit, and he took the girls out for dinner quite often.
Liz would occasionally mention his name; I knew her reservations about feeling things for people, especially wealthy self-centered pricks, so I knew the simple fact that she mentioned him was quite a feat.
And Wills, well he never mentioned her, which meant that he was indeed going after her again.
Oh, how I loved my dear Wills. I wanted to hug myself for all the good things that were going on.
Wills became less of a prick over the course of the year, probably through conversations with Liz, and quite honestly, I could say that perhaps I found him becoming a bore.
But whatever made him happy. And he was becoming happier.
I was not the only one who noticed.
It was spring, and I had been on my own in Liz and Georgia's house, as Georgia was at a meeting and Liz and Wills were out getting groceries. I heard the doorbell, and went to the door, thinking that Georgia had decided to cut class and had forgotten her keys that morning.
But it was Richard.
"Oh."
"Wonderful to see you as well, Caroline," he said, facetiously.
I let him in, and went back to my position on the couch, making notes on a conversation I had had with a couple in Long Island who were thinking of renovating.
He sat down in the love seat across the coffee table, and looked expectantly at me.
I put down my pen, took my glasses off. "What?"
"He's been very happy lately."
"Indeed he has."
"Are you happy for him?"
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"
What is with him and this idea of Wills and me?
There was a jangling of keys in the front door, and Georgia came in. "Hello Richard!"
Richard stood up and hugged his cousin. "George! How are you?"
"Oh quite wonderful," she grinned. "Classes are over in a few weeks, and I've got an internship at Marie Claire this summer."
Georgia had decided this year to study fashion photography, and I think that it was a great idea.
She was going to enthuse more about her position, but she was interrupted. Wills and Liz came in through the front door, sans groceries.
Wills was so handsome. I'd never seen him better, and all I could think was: He's beautiful.
Liz was smiling broadly, genuinely, such a difference from the amusing snide smirk that she had when she'd first met Wills...and...yes, there a ring on Liz's left hand...
"Guess what?"
I needed to get out. I needed to get out of there quickly.
I smiled. "What?" I asked through my artificial smile. I blinked quickly. Why was I ready to cry?
"I've asked Liz to marry me, and she's said yes."
"Oh wow, Liz!" Georgia threw herself into the couple's embrace. "I'm so happy for you two!"
"Congratulations," Richard got up out of his seat, and shook hands with the couple.
I stood up and hugged them both as well. "I knew this was going to happen," I said, smugly.
"You're crying..." Liz said.
"I'm just so happy."
That was the biggest lie.
I didn't expect them to get married right away! How old were they? Like Cher, Liz was abandoning me; months after she got her diploma, she was going to acquire another title.
I had so many misgivings about this whole thing. I know, I set them up and all, and I ought to have been proud of my success. I ought to have been much more smug and much happier.
Why couldn't I just be happy?
Wills was smiling at me now. Dear Wills, who was in love with the girl at his side, and not with me.
Why hadn't he ever loved me?
Was there something wrong with me? Was I that unappealing?
Why hadn't I actually had to worry about Wills ever falling in love with me?
The next few weeks were so...ugh. Between negotiating a new contract with the brattiest of the bratty socialites on the weekdays, and wedding preparations on the weekends, I felt lost in another person's life.
Things were never going to be the same. I lost my place. No "sister" to Georgia, "partner" to Wills...
Traveling alone from New York and Boston, back and forth and back and forth. Where was my place? There was nothing for me in New York, and in Boston...
There were just a bunch of headaches. Every time Wills was goofily smiling at Liz...
I mean, Wills was my friend for years before Liz, and she came in, made him a bore within six months and totally devoted to her...
He was devoted to me first! If anyone deserved it...
Oh god, Liz. Oh she's a dear and I love her to death, but...
Just when I finally got everything in William's life arranged and settled, my feelings had to come and backfire on me.
I was in love with William!
I don't even know how I came to feel this way about him, or when. I'd known him long enough to be quite thoroughly sick and bored of him; was it the endurance that makes one fall in love with someone else?
He's beautiful. When he laughs, when he just looks. The way he just gazes into space, the way he so obviously worships Liz with his eyes. He'd never looked at me that way. She makes him so incredibly...high and happy.
Why couldn't I?
And I was in love with him...
Well I had to tell him, right?
Confessing love to Mr. Darcy is very very difficult, especially when there is a woman with whom he spends 24/7.
Needless to say I didn't get a moment alone with him. Every time I thought I'd get time with him, Liz would come in with another thing for me or him to do, or Georgia would come and say that Liz needed one of us, or even worse, Richard would just barge in.
His interruptions would be the worst because he wouldn't take anyone away; he'd just have us sit in silence, and wait until Wills looked at me, and said, "Now Caroline, you were saying?" and of course I couldn't tell him in front of Richard.
And it wasn't just once. He deliberately got in my way several times.
One time, Wills had to leave us to tend to Liz, and I looked at Richard angrily. But what could I say to him? No need for him to know he was right.
I simply glared.
"Even if you told him, what do you plan on getting accomplished? Is it even about love?"
How little he actually knew me. I didn't answer him, too angry to put my feelings into words. I got up, and left.
Liz and William got married in August.
I was the maid of honor, and Georgia and Cher were bridesmaids. Richard was best man, though Wills had wanted me for the role. Of course Liz argued, and finally she triumphed, because Wills dotes on her.
And I have to admit she was simply adorable when she pouted. No wonder she won that argument.
And I still hadn't told Wills at that point what was going on in my head. I was dizzy with keeping my feelings to myself for so long, and I wanted out.
The ceremony definitely hindered matters. He was married. He was happy. Guilt was heavy in my stomach. I should have told him earlier. Did I plan on telling him at all?
I made a courteous and witty speech during dinner about how I got them together and actually half-believed in my well-wishes for my friends. I had even considered that maybe the story was done, now, except for Richard's goading me.
Richard's presence decided matters for me.
"Caroline!" he said urgently to me, hands on my shoulders.
"Richard, let go..." I said through gritted teeth. He had a way of goading me into doing the most irrational thing I could think of. I looked around him at the couple that was now dancing about the center of the room, staring so lovingly into each other's eyes, and felt the opportunity open up, as the song was ending.
He'd be gone in a few minutes for his honeymoon. I had to speak to him before...I turned to Richard. "Rich-"
A kiss. What did he think a kiss was going to accomplish? I pushed him away, slapped him into sense. "Richard! It's me, Caroline Bingley. I don't know how much champagne you've had, but you've got me confused with someone-"
"Oh for once be quiet, Caroline. I have something I want to tell you."
"You can tell me after I talk to William. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go."
"Caroline-"
I firmly put my hands on the ones that gripped my shoulders, and pushed them away. "Richard, I have to go." I set my gaze on his, and almost winced as I saw an unfamiliar feeling in his eyes, one that I did not quite understand, but I could feel...as sadness. The feeling was then just as quickly replaced with objectivity.
"Well, I guess I've done all I can, but you're determined to hurt yourself. Go ahead, tell William how you feel, and when you cry about it, don't expect company."
"I never wanted you around to say you told me so anyway," I said coldly, and brushed the sting away. I walked from the balcony into the ballroom, as the song ended. "In fact," I turned back to him, "I never wanted you around."
"Fine, then I won't be."
I didn't understand what was wrong with him. I probably would have followed him to find out, except I made eye contact with Liz and she smiled and started dragging Wills over with her.
I met the couple with happy eyes. "Liz, Wills," I smiled to them.
Liz threw herself into my arms. "Oh Caroline, I thought I wouldn't be able to see you before we left; oh, there's Mother, I have to talk to her. Be a dear and entertain my husband?"
William guided me out of the ballroom into a small corridor where we had some privacy, away from the people in the ballroom. "I'm an old married man, now, Caroline. Did you ever think we'd see the day?"
I laughed through tears. "Yes, you are."
"We haven't had time alone since the whole engagement," he began, seriously, "and everything's been moving fast. I wanted to talk to you. I needed to talk to you."
"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you too."
"I've missed you, Caroline."
"Me too."
"You know," he said, half seriously, half jokingly, "When we were younger, I used to suspect that we'd eventually get bored with being friends and..."
I looked at him now, concentrating on those killer eyes of his. Searched for my absolution. "I..." I laughed. "William, you know I would have never gotten bored of you."
He laughed too. "You always knew, though, Caroline. You knew what was right for me. You somehow knew how to keep me from taking that path. I used to wonder why...but now," he said, watching Liz talk with her mother, "I can see why."
"Wasn't it Wilde who said that a romance with oneself was the best love story?" I said lightly, teasingly. "I love you, William, but I am way too much in love with myself to ever think about anyone else that way."
William bent close now, and kissed my forehead. "I love you, Caroline Bingley. Thank you...for everything."
The tears were horrendous now, profuse sobfuls, ruining my makeup. I didn't care. I was just so...happy.
Liz now joined us, and I kissed her forehead as well, and we cried in each other's arms. There was no real reason why we cried; I can't tell you why I of all people was bawling like a baby, but I only knew that I was happy, so happy. "Take care of William, Liz. And don't let him take too much care of you."
She kissed my cheek. "Thank you, Caroline."
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Your ride is waiting, William, Liz..." Georgia joined us now, hugging the two. "What is this crying? I've never known you three to cry, let alone on a happy occasion."
We laughed through tears, and William and Liz both kissed me once more, and were off. "Goodbye, Caroline."
"Goodbye, Liz. Goodbye, William."
There was a crowd behind Georgia and I now, trying to push ahead to wish farewells, and it followed us as we went to the door to wave them goodbye. William, always the gentleman, opened Liz's door to the Rolls Royce convertible, and after seating her, got in at his side. He waved one more time to the crowd, and I saw his gaze fall on me. He gave me a happy look. It said, "I love you."
As they drove off Georgia turned to me, concerned. "Caroline, this must be a record. You've never cried this long."
I wiped the tears away and checked my face in the compact I had in my purse, and turned to Georgia, and held up my index finger. "I've never broken a nail before either."
Of course I looked like a shallow flop again, but I didn't care.
The wedding was as good as over; Liz and William had left, and all that remained was horrendous wedding music and lots of champagne.
And that abhorred conversation I was to have with Richard if I was to calm him down.
And where was he, anyhow? "Georgia, have you seen that no-life cousin of yours?"
"You mean Andy or Richard?" Georgia laughed, hooking her arm in mine, and dragging me back to the ballroom.
"Richard. He said he had something to discuss with me."
"Really? Was it urgent?"
"I don't know...why?"
"Because Richard left fifteen minutes ago."
He left fifteen minutes ago?!?!
What a spoiled brat. The memory of his childishness still drove me quite mad, even after four days.
And of course I wasn't going to contact him. If he wanted to talk his problems out with me, well he'd have to seek me out to do it, because I owed him absolutely no concern.
How childish! Running away like that.
Of course I'd given no thoughts to what he wanted to tell me since then; no doubt some stupid brotherly reminder that William was a married man now.
Yeah, he'd been so pissy about it too. "Don't come crying to me..." and he ran off. Coward.
How noble of him to try to keep me from landing on my nose.
And it was low, very low of him to kiss me.
What kind of a distraction did he think he was really providing? And he called that a kiss? What was he thinking, kissing me? Why did he kiss me? Why?
The kiss came to mind to often. I didn't even remember how if felt, but I just scowled every time I remembered.
I tapped my now-recovered nail against the polished surface of the cherry wood table. I was bored. Liz was not around to entertain me, and William, well of course he was with Liz; they were on their honeymoon.
So that left no one. Georgia had gone back to campus to help out with freshman orientation, and Louisa and her husband (like they would have been company, but well, someone's better than no one) had retreated to their little house in the middle of rich suburban nowhere. Charles was out with Liz's sister, no doubt; I saw the way he was staring at her at the wedding!
I was on my own. Being alone meant I had to do something enriching for myself, like reading, or I had to obsess. As you probably know that I am not a reading type, you can guess I obsessed.
But of course I wasn't obsessing about Richard Fitzwilliam; such an obsess-unworthy man!
For a day or two, I obsessed about what I had told William, why I had not told William that I loved him romantically, that I committed the stupidest act in my life by letting him go. Of course the obsession left no enlightenment, until I realized on the third day that while I loved William, and definitely as more than a friend, that I was happy with the way things were. That this was the best possible outcome for everyone.
The best possible outcome...
Had William and I married...
The whole idea was foreign with me. No, even if I had told him that I loved him, I don't think I would have been able to marry him. I was too selfish to think outside of myself, to think of another's needs along with my own...just juxtaposing the words "another's" and "needs" made me dizzy.
No, some people weren't born for matrimony, and I was pretty sure that I was one of them.
With that, I allowed myself to go shopping.
But it didn't take away this odd niggling feeling in my head, and in that place I've been told my heart resides. Shopping was not a balm, and it even exacerbated the situation, as I couldn't make a single purchase; quite simply, I could not see anything worth its price.
Since when did I start concerning myself with how much I was spending on what? Upset, I blamed the stores for not having good merchandise, blamed the manufacturers for their inability to make quality goods, blamed the economy for making prices so exorbitant, and lastly, of course I blamed the fashion world for not turning out any ensembles handsome enough to tempt me.
Finally I convinced myself that I needed a break from New York shopping; perhaps a trip to London, in the midst of trendy Chelsea was what I wanted. That idea did not appeal to me, as airline prices to Europe were horrendous at this time of year.
There was that devil of a thrift in me again!
Well I would not concede; determined to spend gobs of money on myself, I informed my firm that I was taking a vacation, and then I called my travel agent, and asked her to book me on a flight, first class to Chicago.
Why Chicago?
I loved Chicago, with its beautiful buildings, its lakeside parks, its downtown shopping district...
Of course when I got to Chicago, I settled myself at the Hilton in an adequately expensive suite, and of course I slept off the exhaustion I had from travel, and adjusted myself to the time zone (one hour does make a horrendously large difference).
The next day I had planned on going shopping, but within the first hour I could not find anything I wanted, so instead I took a walk along the lakeshore, through the beaches crowded with sunbathers, volleyball players, and squirming children enjoying the last few weeks of summer before school. The day never looked so nice at it did today.
A week later I found myself still without a clue as to what I wanted, or what exactly was looking for in the stores I was haunting in New York, and now here.
It wasn't a deep philosophical journey; I wasn't asking myself what I wanted out of life, or what I wanted forever and ever. I just wanted a direction...to a store, to an idea...
What was I looking for in this city?
If anyone had told me that the past month of itinerancy and soulessness would climax to today, to this hour, in this office, I would have laughed at them.
No, Richard's office had enough ideas scattered around on the desk and floor that having my own might have been dangerous.
But I really had no say in the matter.
I hadn't called Richard to tell him I was in town, and I hadn't intended to, but I figured we had a mess to clean up...
Oh who am I kidding? I finally realized why I went to Chicago. It was so I could see him, and tell him off for being childish during the wedding.
So I took a walk to his office. No designer stuff this morning; no, in my haste to continue this insipid quest for myself I had few classy outfits, assuming I'd get a new wardrobe when I got here. That never happened. And Richard Fitzwilliam was not worth a shopping spree.
Richard wasn't in when I got there, but had no appointments for another two hours, so his secretary showed me into his office.
It was then I admired the...complexity of his mind, as evidenced by the paper casualties that had been crumpled and tossed onto the floor of his office.
I looked at the walls, surprised to find a PhD from Harvard. The bachelor's from University of Chicago was not quite such a surprise, and it explained his ties here.
There was a picture of him and his family on his desk taken when he was probably fifteen or so; he was both lanky and awkward. There was another picture of the four of us: William, Georgia, him and me, all at Georgia's high school graduation. I secretly triumphed that I looked great in the picture, though I doubted he truly appreciated this aberration from my non photogenicity.
I looked at his face in the picture, and wondered at his perpetual scowls in my company. He really had a beautiful smile, and it looked quite natural.
Now I heard his voice outside his office door, and put down the picture with a feeling of guilt, the way I felt when I'd been caught in my Mother's makeup drawer when I was five. "Good morning Grace."
"Professor Fitzwilliam, there's a student in your office waiting to see you. She might be that grad student prospective you'd told me to expect."
"All right, well hold my calls."
I had by this time seated myself as professionally as I could in the chair across from Richard's desk, and patiently waited for his entrance.
He did not keep me waiting. "I'm sorry, I did not expect you to arrive until tomorrow, Miss Faraday..."
"Well, that's good, because then you should have time to talk to me," I smoothly replied, getting up from my chair, turning to face him.
"Caroline." To say that he was surprised would have been an understatement. I watched his face carefully, and was surprised to see such a mixture of emotions: happiness, frustration, longing? He quickly recovered, but the damage was done: my heart was inexplicably beating faster.
"Richard."
"Um..." he went around his desk to take his seat. "Sit down."
I seated myself, and twisted my fingers.
We sat quietly for a while, and I tried to structure my thoughts. What was I doing here? Finally, he spoke. "Why don't you just tell me what you want and get it over with?"
I looked up at him, irritated by his challenge. Falling into old habits, I narrowed my eyes, felt my fists clenched, and felt a retort come to my lips.
But I was in his office, and the inconvenience was all on his side, and the duty to maintain civility or at least conversation was all on mine. I closed my eyes. I began, "You were being a childish brat at William and Liz's reception."
"You came all the way from New York to tell me that?"
"No, I also came to tell you that you're surly and unpleasant to be with. I don't like being around you, and I don't want to be around you anymore. As much as I'd convinced myself that I could try to like you and be your friend, after the behavior you've displayed towards me I really don't think you deserve my friendship. I don't need anyone to watch me trip up, or say I told you so."
Richard remained silent at first. He turned away. "I wish you'd just stop it."
"I don't want to hear this," I started to get up.
"Well," he came around the desk and shoved me into my seat. "You're going to have to hear this, as you seem to have decided that this will be the last time we'll ever see each other."
I sat back in my seat, crossed my arms, and watched him.
"You're so...frustrating! You're easy to read, and yet unpredictable. I thought you were someone special! I thought you cared about others. But I was wrong. All you care about is making yourself feel better. Amusing yourself. You're just as shallow and self-centered as the rest of them. I had wanted to know you, but now, I don't. In fact, I don't want to see you. Get out of my office," he gestured to the door.
He looked so disappointed, and hurt, and angry.
Confused, angry and hurt as well, I tried to say something back, but I couldn't say anything at all. So I just left.
I allowed myself to cry over Richard for about two hours, and after I proceeded to watch soap operas until I fell asleep.
The next day I ran off to spend the rest of my vacation in Paris.
That didn't solve any problems. The edges of my loneliness were scraped raw, and every time I remembered Richard, and tried to think of why he would ever act that way, it stung.
Richard never struck me as the type to be so...vulnerable. He never was hurt. He never struck me as that...type.
No, the vague images I had of Richard were very...wholesome, and tough and even sweet at times. Like when he helped Georgia move into her dorm, or when he built that beautiful rocking chair for old Mrs. Darcy. Or when he managed to calm William down enough so that he could get through the wedding.
I had not found any answers or peace and I had to get back to work. Disgruntled I returned.
I was surprised to find 53 messages on my machine. Only the first was a real message, a very concerned one from Georgia:
Caroline, I hope you're well. Richard called me in a state about ten minutes ago, demanding to know where you were. Did you see each other? Anyhow, he wouldn't leave me alone until I'd given him your number, so I suppose this is a warning call. Um, life's grand, take care?
The last 52 messages were hangups.
I could pretend that I didn't know who the hangups were from, but I had a fairly good idea.
I wasn't going to call him back, though. I didn't know his number, and I didn't think I owed him anything.
What did being disappointed in me mean anyhow? He didn't know me. He had no idea who I was.
Someone special. Yeah, right.
Self-centered? Of course. That's what I had always said. I'm self-centered, so what? I didn't make it a secret; I wasn't going to pretend otherwise.
Why was it bad that I was self-centered? And why did it actually feel bad to be self-centered?
Why was it bugging me so much that he didn't like me? That he was disappointed in me?
WHY?
The phone rang, and I picked it up quickly. "Richard?"
"Caroline!?"
"Wills?"
"Richard? Am I interrupting something?"
"No, not at all. Just expecting him to call about a surprise for Georgia's birthday..." I replied smoothly. "How was the honeymoon? How's Liz?"
"Wonderful. Liz is getting settled. Just wanted to call you to tell you that we're back in town."
"That's great..."
"Caroline...are you crying?"
I sniffed. "No don't be ridiculous."
"Liz! Get on the phone!"
"What is it?" I heard in the background. "Is something wrong?"
"Caroline's crying."
Broadcast it to the world, why don't you?
A very concerned Liz got on the phone. "Caroline? What happened?"
"Nothing," I said. "I've just missed you."
"We all know Caroline Bingley doesn't depend on people."
With that I broke down. What is it with people thinking that I was independent? Just because I was self-centered didn't mean I didn't need people. It meant I needed them more than ever!
"Oh dear, this is about Richard isn't it?" Liz said.
"Richard?" I asked.
Wills interjected. "Don't mind Liz; she's just had this strange psychotic idea that you two were in love..."
In love.
Oh my god. I was in love with Richard Fitzwilliam. Horrified, I looked at the phone, the messenger of this horrific wonderful news, and I slammed the receiver down, and unplugged the phone from the wall.
I stared at the wall for the next hour, and thought of every single interaction I had with Richard Fitzwilliam, and they came to me vividly, every single word, every single scowl on his face. Every. Single. Detail.
So I was in love with him.
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense; it explained all the angst I'd experienced over him, and at the same time made no sense whatsoever.
You would have thought I'd choose someone with more taste, with more charm, with more...money. Or at least more personality.
But I was in love with Richard Fitzwilliam.
He asked me to never see him again.
There was a large complication.
There was another complication: there was no way in hell that he'd ever return my feelings. He found me disgusting.
And yet, I disappointed him, which meant that I must have been something to him, right?
Thinking of him put me in circles and I couldn't get to an end, and I hurt. I hurt and I hurt, thinking of Richard Fitzwilliam.
Wills and Liz didn't know, of course. I called them back an hour after I had hung up on them and apologized; something had happened to the line, and I had no idea what. I laughed with them, and said nothing was wrong, and that I was not in love with Richard, and that I was planning a surprise party for Georgia's twentieth birthday, and could we please host it at their home?
They happily agreed, and I smiled back, and after an adequate amount of time cooing over how happy I was for them, I hung up and went back to feeling miserable.
Now that I was the self-acknowledged victim of love-sickness for Richard Fitzwilliam, I thought of many things to improve myself with so that he might love me the next time he saw me. I just as soon dismissed them, because I was not going to change myself for any man.
Okay, so maybe I did donate a few bags of clothes to the Salvation Army.
But beyond that, no I was still self-centered. I was determined, more than ever, to stay myself.
Because if Richard Fitzwilliam didn't love the me I was, well, then he didn't deserve me, despite my really wanting him to.
Being in love took some getting used to, but it wasn't so bad. Unrequited love is frustrating, but not quite so when the object of your affections is many hundreds of miles away. And being in love...well I felt different. It wasn't bad different or good different. Just plain different.
Georgia's birthday was drawing near, so a couple weekends before I visited Wills and Liz to get the caterers and other details arranged.
Like the guest list.
"Well," Wills said. "So far, we called my parents, because they had to book a flight, and we also called Richard."
I held my breath, and kept myself casually indifferent as I wrote down his name.
"Wills's parents are coming, but Richard said that he had to think about it."
Of course he had to.
We negotiated the rest of the list. Just as we wrote down the last name, the phone rang. Liz picked it up.
"Hello? Oh hi Richard!"
My heart quickened.
"Oh, I'm fine; Caroline is visiting now, and Wills, Caroline and I are just getting details together for Georgia's surprise party. Are you coming?"
I held my breath.
"Of course you have go to that; oh, that's too bad! It had to be that night, too?" Liz sounded dismayed.
I tried to smother my sigh of relief, and the small sting of disappointment. He didn't want to see me, and I couldn't see him without making a fool out of myself, so it was best this way.
"Well, I guess I understand. Just make sure you call that night and wish Georgia a happy birthday."
"Wills? Liz?" Georgia knocked on the door to the house, confusedly. "They said we'd meet here for dinner at six, right?"
I tried the knob. Not surprisingly, it was not locked. Georgia looked at me suspiciously. "You don't think anything's wrong do you?"
"I think Wills and Liz are lost in each other and only remembered us enough to unlock the door."
"But the house is dark..." Georgia entered. "Wills? Liz?" she called in. "Let me get the light."
"SURPRISE!"
Georgia's eyes lit up. "Oh my...Liz...Wills..." she turned to me. "Caroline..."
The room was perfectly set. A pile of presents was on the coffee table, along with a dozen white roses, and a wonderfully delicious looking dinner was set at the dining table with the Darcys' new china set. To my surprise, Wills and Liz kept the guest list down to a small group. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy stood next to Wills and Liz, and I smiled as Georgia threw herself into her parents' arms.
I could say that I didn't look for Richard in the group, as he did say he wasn't going to be there, and I hadn't wanted to see him anyway, but I did. I wanted him to be there, and I was slightly disappointed when I saw he wasn't, even though it wasn't a surprise.
It was a small intimate group, and dinner was fantastic; the food was delicious and the conversation dynamic and entertaining. Georgia laughed and smiled, glimmering so beautifully.
"I need to get these dishes," Liz said.
Wills got up to help her.
"I hope you two don't get lost in the kitchen..." I laughed.
Georgia sighed. "This has to be one of the best birthdays."
The lights shut off, and the kitchen door opened to admit a cake bedecked with twenty candles.
"Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Georgia, Happy birthday to you..."
Georgia rolled her eyes in happiness, "You shouldn't have."
"Make a wish," I suggested.
Georgia closed her eyes, which were now somewhat filled with tears, and blew out the candles.
Everyone laughed as the room was sent into darkness, but the lights came on again, and I turned to the light switch...
...to see Richard there, staring at me.
"Richard!" Georgia hugged Richard in greeting.
He moved his gaze from me to Georgia, and smiled, and took her in his arms.
Finally allowed to move, I turned to Liz and Wills, who now held hands and looked at me. Oh no. They did not do this.
I didn't even want to know what they had to tell Richard to make him want to come. In fact, I knew it was probably something to the equivalent of "she's miserable without you" which was far from the truth. And he was probably here to see if it was true.
Frozen to my spot, I tried to collect words to form sentences. "Good to see you again, Richard," I said gruffly.
"Likewise," he replied.
Liz and Wills looked at each other, and Liz said, "Well, we should serve this cake!"
What were they thinking?
I paced in the kitchen, thinking of all things they must have told him to get him here. Oh they just made me out to be such the lovesick fool, didn't they? And he probably came to laugh at me, to triumph!
"Caroline?"
I jumped, and walked to the sink. "Doing dishes," I replied.
"We're about to start watching High Fidelity; Liz and I rented it..." Wills said.
"Oh, well I've seen it before! I can wash dishes and join you guys..."
Liz entered. "...and so, I'm sure that Caroline is determined to do dishes! Isn't that horrendous considering that she'd planned the whole party and gotten all this together? And so I have to ask you if you'd help her out, so you two can join us in half the time it'd take for her to join us."
"Liz, you could help!" I said brightly.
"Oh, well I was explaining something to Georgia...come on Wills!"
If it wasn't obvious before...
I shuffled my feet, and looked up. "Well, let's get on with it," I said.
I started to wash, and Richard approached me, watching me. My hands shook, and I turned off the sink, and turned to him, trying to express...anything.
"Are you going to help or not?" I said. I turned to continue washing the dishes, but as I started to turn the faucet on, Richard's hand covered mine, and he turned me to face him.
"I'm sorry."
"About what? Oh, what you said? Totally forgot it," I smiled, and tried to turn away.
"Please don't say that."
"Ok, well then I remember what you said, and sorry isn't good enough," I smiled teasingly. "Come on Richard, let's just do the dishes."
"I don't want to do the dishes."
"Then you came to the wrong place..." I said. "The door's over there and..."
"I want to talk to you," he took my hand more insistently.
"You are."
He guided me to the small table setup in the middle of the kitchen, and seated me and drew up a chair. "Look, I know what I said last time was very cruel, but I wasn't thinking right. I couldn't think. It was too confusing. I was happy to see you. You said things that hurt me...I..."
"We both said things that shouldn't have been said. In fact, I had no business to be there."
"Yes you did. You needed a friend. I knew that, and I should have been more compassionate."
Friend. "Richard, we've never been friends."
"No, we've never been to friends. I think the attraction I felt for you got in my way..."
Attraction? My heart beat faster, and I allowed myself to meet his eyes.
"Didn't you see I was crazy for you?" he asked gently.
I was crying now, and I shook my head, smiling. "No I had no idea."
"It was horrible. I couldn't like you as a person, but I liked you anyhow. There are still so many frustrating things about you...but...somehow, I love them all. I love you, just the way you are."
I was shaking now, and I burst out laughing, smiling widely.
"Caroline?"
I moved close to him now, and kissed him. I kissed him with every giggle I felt at the moment, hoping he saw the colors I did, hoping that he was feeling as high as I was. Dizzy, I leaned into his embrace, and snuggled closer to him. It felt so good.
"I love you, Richard."
"I gathered from the kiss..." he said wryly.
"Don't you sound so smug?"
"Upset that I may be sounding as smug as you?"
"One minute, and it's over. They're at it again..." Liz said.
We jumped apart.
I scowled at Liz. "Don't even try talking to me right now. If this didn't turn out so well, I would have killed you, whether or not I cared about Wills being happy."
She laughed, and Richard held me tighter. "Oof," I happily groaned, feeling the breath squeezed out of me. "Go away, Liz."
"Yeah, go away, Liz."
She laughed, and left.
"Oof indeed," he replied, kissing me once more.
P.S. We forgot the dishes.