A Modern Day Sense and Sensibility: An Adaptation of Jane Austen's Classic (9 page)

Diane sighed and looked at her three daughters. This was a depressing sight indeed, and a far cry from the palatial Dashwood Estate. Closing the car doors, they took a step closer toward their new reality—a reality Marianne was ready to compare to the “projects.”

“Hello there!” a voice startled them from behind.

Turning quickly, they saw an elderly woman peering at them from behind the manager’s door. They watched as she quickly turned back to speak with someone inside, and then a moment later, a man in his early sixties joined the woman. His eyes lit up with recognition at the sight of Diane.

“Diane!” he exclaimed.

“Don?” Diane questioned, looking to Ellie with confusion. Ellie shrugged. She had never met her mother’s cousin and couldn’t confirm whether the man was Don or not. All Diane could surmise was that if it was indeed her cousin, Don Middleton, he was barely recognizable—but then again, she hadn’t seen him in over twenty years.

The elderly pair emerged from the manager’s building and hurried across the lawn toward Diane and her daughters who were still glued to the cement next to their vehicle.

“Oh! My! Mr. Middleton!” the elderly woman exclaimed, “You never mentioned how beautiful the girls were!”

“This is my mother-in-law, Mrs. Jennings,” Mr. Middleton explained. “Mrs. Jennings, my cousin, Diane Dashwood, and her three daughters.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Diane replied, smiling as she shook the outgoing woman’s hand. “This is Ellie, Marianne, and Margaret.”

The girls smiled and as Mrs. Jennings began to chatter away, Ellie took the opportunity to observe the odd pair.

Mr. Middleton was a thin man with light silvery hair which Ellie couldn’t help but notice was a little greasy-looking. Next to him stood Mrs. Jennings, who, in her late seventies, had short, curly hair of alabaster white and wore large “bug-eye” glasses. She was sporting a multi-colored moo-moo which she thought disguised her large, womanly figure.

“I bet you’re all exhausted!” Mrs. Jennings observed, “Mr. Middleton, will you lead the way?”

“Come on! Come on!” Mr. Middleton tried to rouse some excitement from them as he turned to guide them
to the apartment. “I’ll introduce you to your new home!” he winked at Margaret conspiratorially as she kept up with him.

Mrs. Jennings joined his enthusiasm by pointing out every detail along the way. She was a bundle of excitement at having such lovely ladies move in within such close proximity to her. Life was no doubt rather dull and uneventful with only her son-in-law to keep her company.

As they neared apartment 4J, Mr. Middleton unclipped the large ring of keys from his belt loop and began to fumble for the correct one to open the door. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said while placing the key in the lock, “but when some of your items arrived I took the liberty of placing them inside for you.”

He opened the door, revealing a dimly lit, forlorn apartment filled with the boxes and mattresses Mr. Middleton had been referring to. What little carpet they could see underneath the mess was outdated, and the kitchen contained vintage countertops and cabinets. As they walked inside, Marianne darted ahead to explore the whole apartment, which didn’t take long—from the doorway you could see the dinette, kitchen and living room all at once.

“This apartment’s been vacant for a year now,” began Mrs. Jennings as she attempted to lift their gloomy faces. “It has two bedrooms and one bath. I do hope you’ll like it.”

Diane turned to her and saw the hope etched on the elderly woman’s face. Trying her hardest to hide the disappointment welling up inside her, she answered, “We are so grateful.” It was all she could think of to say.

Marianne came out from the bedroom she would soon be sharing with Ellie and glanced to Diane, the dismay unashamedly apparent on her face. In an attempt to soften its effect, Diane walked to Mr. Middleton and Mrs. Jennings and took their hands. “We really can’t thank you enough,” she tried to reassure.

Mr. Middleton and Mrs. Jennings smiled, feeling placated.

After nearly an hour of fussing over Diane and the girls, the two finally left the Dashwoods to themselves with the promise of returning tomorrow. Although their offer to assist them was meant to be helpful, Diane found their presence overwhelming and dreaded the next day’s activities. No doubt Mrs. Jennings would be teeming with endless questions, a stage Diane was so grateful Margaret was just graduating from.

Heaving an exhausted sigh, Diane was caught off-guard by a knock at the front door. It was her cousin Don Middleton, returning with his sleeves rolled up.

“I couldn’t help but notice how full your car is. May I offer my assistance in unloading it?” he asked.

Diane smiled and silently chided herself for the negativity she had been feeling just minutes earlier. Perhaps having two busybodies living next door wouldn’t be too bad, after all.

“Here’s the last one, ladies!” Mr. Middleton exclaimed as he set the final box onto the ground while catching his breath. He had been helping them unload their car, and now the apartment looked even more dismal than before. Boxes laid everywhere, the furniture that had been sent ahead was positioned haphazardly about the room, and Diane’s large kingsize mattress rested forebodingly against the wall.

“Don, thank you so much for all your help,” Diane said, following Mr. Middleton to the door in a state of exhaustion.

“Okay, see you tomorrow!” he smiled, waving goodbye.

Closing the door behind him, Diane turned and studied her daughters with tired eyes. Ellie was in the kitchen placing glasses in the cupboard while Marianne, a few shelves ahead of her, dusted and applied shelf-liners. Margaret was on the floor unpacking the various boxes Ellie had marked with a big “X” to keep her busy, and fortunately it had been working.

But just as Diane sat down on one of the chairs, Margaret began complaining. “Mom, I’m hungry,” her youngest whined.

Hoping to save her mother the trouble, Ellie answered in Diane’s stead. “There are some Cheetos and juice boxes in that sack over there,” she pointed to a bag on the counter.

“I’m sick of Cheetos,” Margaret said, making a face, “I want something else.”

“Margaret, that’s all we have—” Ellie stated in a desperate tone, weary of the stress this was putting on their mother.

But just as Ellie had feared, Diane opened the zipper of her jacket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “Here, take it,” she sighed as Margaret scooted over and took the money from her. “Ellie, will you accompany Margaret to the store and get something for us?” she continued, looking pointedly at her eldest.

Margaret smiled cheekily as she hopped to her feet and watched Ellie slowly descend from the stepping stool to put on her shoes. Ellie, who thought this trip unnecessary because it was only to appease Margaret’s stomach, knew not to push her mother by arguing the issue.

“Can I go, too?” Marianne asked, pausing from her chore.

Diane nodded, glad for an excuse to have some time alone.

With tennis shoes on, Ellie grabbed her purse and the three sisters headed out the door. About a ten minute drive from their apartment was a local market. Although a little run down with its paint stripped exterior and a “Help Wanted” sign hanging in the dirty window, it would do. Ellie maneuvered the car into a parking spot and they started walking toward the entrance.

“Can we get some DiGiorno pizzas?” Margaret asked.

“Margaret, we only have twenty bucks,” Ellie began with exasperation. “We have to spend it on more than just pizzas.”

“What if they’re on sale?” pursued Margaret.

“Maybe. . .” Ellie said, opening the door for her sisters and grabbing a cart as Margaret ran ahead to the frozen section. A moment later she returned with a DiGiorno Pizza in hand.

“Is it on sale?” Ellie asked.

“No,” began Margaret before quickly adding, “but it’s only $4.99. Please?”

Ellie shook her head. “I said only if they were on sale. Maybe you’ll get lucky next time.”

A half-hour after entering the store, their cart contained milk, bread, lunch meat, cheese, mayo and peanut butter—the essentials. Turning onto the main pathway in pursuit of the registers, Marianne walked to greet them, holding up a frozen sack of edamame for Ellie’s approval.

“How much is it?” Ellie asked.

“$2.95,” Marianne answered. Ellie nodded and Marianne threw the sack into the cart.

“That’s not fair! Why can’t I get something?” Margaret complained, threatening to throw a fit.

“If you can find something that all of us can share that’s under. . .” Ellie began calculating the cost of the items in the cart on a hand calculator she happened to have in her purse, “. . .$3.19.”

By then the sisters had reached the checkout and Margaret’s sharp eyes caught sight of the selection of candies being displayed. She grabbed a bag of M&M’s and turned to her eldest sister. “How about this? Please?” Margaret began to plead, “Mom loves M&M’s.”

“No, it’s
you
who loves M&M’s,” Ellie corrected as she tried to suppress a smirk.

“But they’re under $3.00!” Margaret sent Ellie a pitiful look.

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Okay,” she relented, unable to resist that puppy dog expression any longer.

Using some blankets from the car, the four of them had managed to prepare a makeshift bed on the king-size mattress. Placing it flat on the floor, they had layered the blankets on top for extra comfort and were now lying across the mattress like sardines under a loose sheet. The air in the apartment was stagnant and muggy, but fortunately Diane and Ellie had been able to pry open the stiff window just wide enough to allow a slight breeze. Although it was definitely snug, they felt safe being grouped together in their new surroundings.

Positioning a cold wash cloth on her neck, Marianne tried to silence her mind. She couldn’t seem to get comfortable and the heat in the room was bothering her. Deciding to count to a hundred, the task started to do the trick until Marianne heard a scratching noise. Assuming it was Margaret, her body was tweaked with annoyance. “Stop it, Margaret,” she commanded.

“It’s not me,” Margaret sleepily defended herself.

Marianne didn’t bother insisting. Her younger sister was probably just embarrassed at being caught horsing around and didn’t want to fess up. Besides, Marianne was too tired to argue and the noise had stopped—maybe Margaret had gotten the point. Yet, not a moment later, the scratching noise sounded again.

Marianne sighed, “Whoever is doing that, please stop!” she exclaimed in an irritated tone.

“I’m not doing it,” Diane answered, half asleep.

Ellie didn’t answer right away and Marianne started to think maybe it was she who had been goofing around, but that didn’t seem like her older sister at all. Her conclusion was confirmed a moment later when Ellie rolled over and mumbled, “Just go to sleep, Marianne. It’s not any of us.”

As soon as the words left Ellie’s lips, the four of them froze in a state of panic. If none of them were making the scratching noise, then who was? Sitting up, their eyes darted about the room frantically for any sign of the culprit. Was it a rat? Or worse, a thief?!? When the noise came yet again, it sent them all under the sheet, rattled.

“I think it’s coming from the door!” Marianne whispered, her voice shaky.

“Is someone trying to break in?” Margaret whispered back curiously.

“Shhh!” Ellie hushed her. Margaret’s question was not helping the situation at all.

When the scratching noise sounded again for the fourth time, they stiffened with fear. The noise was most certainly coming from behind the front door. Terrified, Diane worked up her courage and rose from the bed, slowly putting on her slippers. Following their mother’s example, Marianne and Ellie got up as well while Margaret stayed huddled in bed. As they moved toward the door, Diane picked up the broom that was leaning against the wall while Marianne grabbed the unhooked phone, and Ellie, a pillow. They began creeping on tippy toes, closing in on their target, when the scratching occurred again, sending them into each other’s arms with muffled screams. Slowly parting moments after the noise had stopped, they began to move once again just as another set of scratchings came from behind the door. In the midst of her fear, Diane noted that the noise was getting closer in frequency, signaling that they had better act now or be sorry. With shaking hands she turned the deadbolt but made sure to leave the chain lock attached. Looking at both Marianne
and Ellie to confirm that they were ready, to which they nodded, Diane opened the door and with screams they held up their ‘weapons’, ready to attack. To their surprise, it was neither a thief, nor a rat, but merely a lonely dog sitting outside their door.