A Modern Day Sense and Sensibility: An Adaptation of Jane Austen's Classic (6 page)

Picking up his camera, which always seemed on hand lately, Edward snapped a few pictures of Margaret as she continued to garnish her dessert.

“Ellie,” Marianne called from where she was sitting, pulling out her earbuds, “Come look at my painting and tell me what you think—but be honest.”

Edward watched Ellie as she walked over to her sister and studied the artfully created masterpiece Marianne had been working on for weeks. It was ablaze with passionate blends of orange, purple, blue and green. On it was calligraphy writing which Ellie quietly read aloud, “Love is to burn, it is to be on fire. . . .” Ellie reflected on the piece in its entirety before giving Marianne an answer. “It’s terrific, Marianne,” she finally said, conveying the sincerity of her words by placing her hand affectionately on her sister’s shoulder.

“I don’t know how it should finish though,” Marianne said, blushing as she tapped her paint-stained brush thoughtfully on the rinsing jar. “Love is to burn, it is to be on fire, it is to. . . .” Turning suddenly to Edward, she asked, “Edward, what do you think?”

Ellie had to muffle a giggle upon seeing Edward’s surprise at being called upon. Startled and looking quite ridiculous with his mouth full of ice cream, Edward’s eyes darted curiously between the sisters. Attempting to avoid further embarrassment, he turned around while proceeding to finish chewing the large bite. But this only made him appear even more absurd. Trying to stifle their laughter, the sisters watched Edward as he set aside his half-eaten banana split, and with a tinge of red to his face, advanced to get a closer look at the artwork. Nudging them playfully, he looked at the painting and pondered it for a moment. Ellie observed him as he did so, admitting to herself that there was something about Edward which she found overwhelmingly attractive. Maybe it was his gentlemanly manner or his expressive eyes. Whichever, she knew she wouldn’t mind spending more time with him to ascertain exactly what it was.

Edward opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again and Ellie noticed the furrowed brow on Marianne’s fair face as she awaited his opinion. “Ignite, thus. . .” he began in a
semi-querulous tone, “keep the fire department number . . . handy?” Marianne couldn’t control the laughter that rose up inside her. “I told you, I’m not a poet!” Edward defended himself, “I just take pictures!”

Marianne turned back to her painting and dipped her brush into the paint. “Edward, you’re pathetic!” she joked.

Edward winked at Ellie and she replied with a similar grin. She liked him—she liked him a lot. . . .

After cleaning up the kitchen together, Ellie and Edward collapsed on the fluffy couch behind Margaret who had already stationed herself on the floor to watch Cartoon Network. An old episode of
Tom and Jerry
began to play as Ellie closed her eyes momentarily in an effort to ease her exhaustion. She had been on her feet all day and the thought of turning in for the night had never sounded sweeter. Yet, it was useless to attempt leaving Edward’s company or trying to relax. Being near him made her insides feel all twisted up. She was excited but also nervous by the realization that mere inches separated their bodies. Ellie couldn’t help thinking how sensual it was watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as he silently watched the cartoon.

Interrupting her thoughts, Edward turned his face to better look at her while toying with his camera. He’d been snapping pictures of the three sisters all evening after confessing there was something about their close bond which intrigued him. “Has your mom had any luck finding a place yet?” he asked.

“No, not yet. I hope your sister isn’t getting too impatient,” Ellie answered as she shifted in her seat nervously. Was he anxious to see them leave? The thought made Ellie very uncomfortable, and well, depressed.

“Don’t you worry about my sister, she needs to learn a little patience,” Edward replied, setting aside the camera
and clasping his hands in front of himself. Ellie was somewhat comforted by his answer and felt her shoulders begin to relax. “Francil’s used to getting everything handed to her,” Edward continued, “My mom wasn’t very good at saying no.”

Ellie nodded and paused, her attention momentarily stolen by the cartoon on the screen until it went to commercials. “What’s your mom like?” she asked curiously.

“Well—” Edward began, now shifting his entire body toward her as he became more animated, “Take Francil and multiply her characteristics by like, ten,” he said. Ellie’s eyes widened—she could only imagine. Edward nodded, “It’s just like the old saying, ‘as the mother is, so goes the daughter’, except Mom has taken domineering to another level.”

“Oh my. . .” Ellie replied.

“Exactly,” Edward said as he laid back against the couch. “When my dad passed away, we were all still really young. Mom had no choice but to become the breadwinner. Because of that, we didn’t really get to see much of her growing up.” Ellie nodded, feeling compassionate. Edward angled his head to look into her eyes, “Of course, she’s ready to play at being Mom now, but all of us already have our own lives and don’t even live in the same state.”

“What does your mom do?” Ellie asked, quickly correcting with, “Isn’t it something on the radio? Like she has her own show or something?”

The cartoon had resumed but neither noticed.

“She’s a syndicated psychiatrist,” Edward said, his face conveying he was a bit surprised Ellie wasn’t aware of who she was. “You’ve probably heard of her radio talk show, ‘Family Ties with Frederica’?”

“Ohhhh, yes, I forgot,” Ellie nodded in recognition. She thought she remembered her mom listening to that program until finding out her step-son was marrying Frederica’s daughter. With the exception of Edward, Diane was not a fan of the Ferrars family.

Diane, unbeknownst to Ellie and Edward, had stumbled in upon the conversation and hadn’t been able to resist observing the special moment between the two. She seemed to have a knack for sniffing out romance, but what could she say, it was a gift. Diane had actually come downstairs with quite another purpose, but upon witnessing the unmistakable chemistry between Edward and her daughter, she became sidetracked. After nearly ten minutes of standing in the shadows, basking in their new romance, she finally scampered off to find Marianne.

Locating her artistic daughter in the laundry room cleaning her art supplies, Diane hurried to her, exclaiming, “Look what came in the mail today!”

Marianne glanced up from her task and turned down the Maroon 5 album she had been listening to, “What, Mom?”

“It’s from my cousin,” Diane said, removing the letter from its envelope. “Apparently he has a place for us to live.”

Marianne smiled and dried her hands on her apron, reaching for the letter which Diane released.

Dear Cousin Diane,


I heard about your husband’s recent passing and extend my deepest condolences. I now run an apartment complex in Oregon and would like to offer one of my apartments for your use. Since your circumstances have no doubt changed, I would make it as affordable as possible. . . .


“Have you told Ellie yet?” Marianne slowly took her eyes off the letter to gaze questioningly at her mother.

“No—” Diane began, but was interrupted when Marianne moved towards the door with excitement while trying to untie her apron. Diane stopped her, “Marianne, let’s wait a while.”

Marianne looked at her mother oddly. “Why?” she replied with a frown, putting her hands on her hips. “I thought you couldn’t wait to get away from Francil.”

“Yes, but this is so much more important,” Diane began, taking back the letter and replacing it in its envelope. “I believe that Ellie really likes Edward and that he likes her, too. And if we were to leave now. . .” Diane trailed off and Marianne took the hint.

“Edward? She likes Edward?” Marianne was flabbergasted. “You mean
that
way?”

Diane raised her eyebrows and tried to suppress a chuckle. “Darling, you can’t expect your sister to like the same type of men you do.”

Marianne shifted, wiping her already dry hands on the apron as she digested this news. “I know that, but Edward?” she asked again. “He has no life. What does she see in him?”

Diane smiled and took one of Marianne’s hands, “That, my dear, is a question you’ll have to ask your sister.” Marianne nodded, setting her mind to do just that later in the evening. “Promise me you won’t say anything to her about the apartment,” Diane pleaded.

“Okay!” Marianne acquiesced as she backed toward the sink, raising her hands in surrender. Marianne might not agree with her mother’s motives or understand why Ellie was interested in Edward, but she would give them time and meanwhile pin down her sister’s exact feelings.

Just as she had set her mind to do earlier, Marianne entered Ellie’s room later that night and found her sister warmly snuggled under the covers reading a book. Collapsing onto the bed with a purposeful thud, Marianne sent Ellie’s book tumbling to the ground.

“Marianne!” Ellie complained as she bent down to retrieve the novel despite hearing her sister’s amusement. Normally, Ellie would have laughed herself, but she happened to be reading
A Proper Pursuit
by Lynn Austin and was half-way through the book’s climax.

Settling back into bed and reopening the book, Ellie was determined to ignore her rude and immature sister.
Marianne, in reply, rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling, pretending not to notice that Ellie wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“So, what do you think of Edward?” Marianne began, startling Ellie, “Do you like him?”

Ellie attempted to hide her flushed face from behind the book, but wasn’t able to avoid the scrutiny of her younger sister. How different the sisters were: Marianne relished an openly discussed romance, whereas Ellie was very private. Even as a child, she never liked to discuss crushes with her mom. “I don’t know. . .” Ellie began, her tone a bit squeaky as she shifted uncomfortably under the sheets.

“I think you do know, you just don’t want to admit it,” Marianne pressured.

Ellie couldn’t disguise her smile as she closed the novel and put it on the nightstand. She might as well get this over with as Marianne would not be giving up anytime soon. “Okay . . . so, maybe I do kinda like him. What’s your point?”

Marianne smiled triumphantly, and after a moment added, “I think he likes you very much.”

Ellie’s breath caught and her expression conveyed her doubts and hopes concerning her sister’s assurance. “You think so?” she asked wistfully.

Marianne turned to face Ellie and gave her an incredulous look, “I can tell by the way he always singles you out.” Ellie smiled and glanced down, her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink. Marianne sighed and pulled herself up off the bed. “When you’re married, will you promise not to live too far away?” she asked with sincerity.

“Married!” Ellie exclaimed, feeling as if the world paused while her mind began to race—okay, so maybe she had thought about how wonderful it would be to marry Edward before falling asleep almost every night since meeting him, but to have her sister voice it knocked the wind out of Ellie. How was it that Marianne was able to see right through her like that?

Still not entirely convinced her sister knew what she was talking about concerning Edward, Ellie blurted, “I don’t even know if he’ll ask me out on a date!”

Marianne gave Ellie a sideways, mischievous glance as she started toward the bedroom door. “I don’t think it’s a matter of ‘if’, but ‘when’.” With that, Marianne raised her eyebrows suggestively before leaving Ellie alone with her thoughts.

Ellie found it hard to fall asleep that night. She kept thinking about how great ‘Ellie Ferrars’ sounded.
It does have a nice ring to it
, she thought, but then suddenly chided herself. “Oh, why does Marianne have to encourage me so!” she exclaimed before flopping down onto her other side and forcing her eyes shut.

“Is there a small room that’s out of the way? I’d like to get some work done,” Edward asked one of the household staff. He was juggling his camera, a bag containing his developing material, and several rolls of undeveloped film. Since arriving, Edward had been snapping pictures right and left, the Dashwood house and its inhabitants being ideal subjects.