Eligible (25 page)

It was only when Liz and Charlotte were seated at a table, wineglasses in front of them, and Charlotte stated the opposite of what Liz had anticipated that Liz realized how confident she’d been that the trip to California would be a failure.

“Willie and I are moving in together,” Charlotte said. “I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“
You’re
moving in with Cousin Willie?” Liz could not conceal her astonishment.

“He isn’t my cousin.” Charlotte seemed businesslike—if her demeanor wasn’t ecstatic, neither was it at all dejected.

“But you hardly know each other.”

Charlotte shrugged. “Living together should fix that pretty quickly.”

“Have I ever told you how cool I think it is that you’ve stayed in Cincinnati on your own terms? You’re this smart, attractive person with a high-power job, and you didn’t even have to leave town to make a life for yourself.”

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to convince me of.”

Liz dropped her voice. “Did you sleep with him?”

“If you really want the answer, try not to look so grossed out. And yes, I know all about the prostitute who gave him a blow job, if that’s what you were planning to tell me next.”

It hadn’t occurred to Liz to divulge this bit of information; she forced her lips to relax from their curl of distaste. “So you’ll go out to California? I don’t see how he could live in Cincinnati, with his—”

“I’m moving there,” Charlotte interrupted. “Silicon Valley has great opportunities for someone with my résumé. And in spite of my supposedly awesome life here, I’m ready for a new adventure. Listen, Liz—I’m not asking for your permission. I’m just doing you the courtesy of telling you.” Charlotte flagged a waiter who was passing by. Though he wasn’t the same person who’d brought their drinks, she said, “We’re ready for the check.”

IT WASN’T YET
seven-thirty when Charlotte left the bar—the two women had spent less than fifteen minutes together—so Liz texted Jasper to see if he’d be returning any earlier than nine o’clock from his interviews. When Jasper didn’t respond, she texted again saying she was already at the hotel and needed him to call the front desk and authorize them to give her a key to his room. Another twenty minutes passed without a reply, at which point Liz finished off the last of the second glass of wine she’d ordered and irritably walked to Seventh Street, where she’d parked her father’s car.

Back on Grandin Road, as she pulled into the driveway of the Tudor, she could see through the large kitchen windows that her sisters and parents were eating dinner, a shrimp salad Liz herself had prepared. Rather than join them, and without deference to the two drinks she’d recently imbibed, Liz entered the house through the front door, dashed up to the third floor, changed into her running clothes, and hurried back out the front.

She took off at a sprint and slowed only slightly when she reached Madison Road. So Jane was pregnant and Chip was no longer interested in her; Charlotte Lucas and Cousin Willie were a couple; Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were broke, as, by extension, were all four of Liz’s sisters. She needed to extract herself, she thought. She needed to go back to New York. It crossed her mind to make her own reservation on Jasper’s return flight, but with Jane leaving, Liz had no faith in her other family members’ abilities to fend for themselves.

She was passing the pharmacy and then the animal hospital and was deep in thought when someone said, “Twice in one day—you’re everywhere.” Liz blinked, and just a few feet away, coming toward her, she saw a tall, dark-haired man who also was running; he wore navy shorts, a plain gray T-shirt, and earbuds that he withdrew as he said, “I wonder if I’m following you or you’re following me.”

So preoccupied had Liz been that even though she recognized Darcy, she had trouble forming a coherent response. Finally, querulously, she said, “I’m not following you. I usually run in the morning.” They both were by this point jogging in place, and Liz heard herself announce, “And anyway, Charlotte Lucas is moving to Palo Alto to live with my cousin Willie.”

Even in her agitated state, it occurred to Liz that Darcy might consider the divulgence a kind of village gossip on which he’d frown, yet the animosity between them was also strangely liberating; offending each other had never posed a hypothetical threat but, rather, was the basis of their relationship. And in any case, his expression when he spoke was more pensive than judgmental. He said, “I didn’t realize they were a couple.”

“They’re not. At least they weren’t. I mean, literally, less than three weeks ago, Willie tried to kiss
me.
After he left Cincinnati, he and Charlotte had a bunch of phone conversations, she went to Palo Alto for the weekend, and now supposedly they’re in love. Which is insane, right?”

After a few seconds’ consideration, Darcy said, “I’ll turn around and run with you. I live near Rookwood Commons, so it’s not out of my way.”

“I was never dating Willie,” Liz said. “He’s my step-cousin, but still, it was so weird that he kissed me. And I’m not jealous of Charlotte. I’m only worried about how miserable she’ll be as his girlfriend.”

Darcy said in a level tone, “Though jealousy would be understandable—not of Willie per se but of Charlotte finding a partner she wants to be with.”

“Is she that desperate to have kids? Because they don’t know each other at all.”

“They met when he was in Cincinnati?” Darcy glanced over, and Liz nodded.

“Then she went to visit him, and that’s the sum total of their interactions. I’ve always thought of Charlotte as down-to-earth, but this is just batshit.”

“I take it you don’t believe in love at first sight.”

“Does anyone over the age of thirteen? Do you?”

“
I
don’t, no,” Darcy said. “But I don’t rule out for others what I haven’t experienced firsthand.”

“Oh, please,” Liz said. “Don’t pretend to be more-open-minded-than-thou. If they’re so sure their destiny is to be together, why not date long-distance for a few months? Or, hell, Charlotte can move out there and get her own place.” She turned her head to look at Darcy. “By the way, you know how you think my family is a trashy mess? You haven’t heard the least of it. Apparently, my dad has burned through all the money he inherited, he has huge bills from his time in the hospital, and no one except Jane and me has health insurance or a job. My mom was hoping Willie would become my boyfriend and bail us out of debt. Oh, and I think she’s a compulsive shopper.”

“I’m sorry to hear all that.” Darcy was somber.

“Chip really dodged a bullet, huh?” They had reached the intersection of Madison Road and Observatory Avenue, and without discussion, they cut right onto Observatory. Liz didn’t attempt to conceal her resentment as she added, “Is he enjoying himself in L.A.?”

“I haven’t been in touch with him since he left. I’m under the impression that the show doesn’t let people communicate with the outside world.” Darcy sounded as if he were discussing a subject no more fraught than the weather.

“Isn’t the Christ ER furious with Chip? How can they not be?”

“I doubt they’re happy.”

“Would you ditch your job like that?”

“I don’t know that medicine has ever been the right fit for Chip. Good people can go into it for the wrong reasons.”

Liz snorted. “And Chip’s
such
a good guy. It must be nice to get to walk all over people and then be let off the hook because of how sensitive and confused you are.”

Darcy appeared unfazed. “Speaking of moral paragons,” he said, “how’s Jasper?”

“I’m not sure he liked Skyline as much as you do.”

“He’s enlightened you, I take it, about his undergraduate transgressions?”

Liz didn’t want to admit that she and Jasper still hadn’t talked about what had occurred at Stanford. Instead, she said, “You seem really fixated on something that happened a long time ago.”

“As a professional storyteller, you must admit it’s a vivid tale.”

Vivid?
Liz thought uneasily. They were almost to Edwards Road, and she said, “You said you live near Rookwood Pavilion, right? I’m going this way.” She gestured to the right, and as she did, she felt for the first time a peculiar awareness of the fact that she had just confided in Darcy (in
Darcy
) and he had listened, mostly with respect. The awareness was not entirely agreeable, and was perhaps part of why she said what she did before peeling away. She called, “Have a good night in the shithole that’s Cincinnati!”

AT THE TUDOR,
Ham and Lydia were in the driveway, walking toward Ham’s navy SUV. “Since when have you run twice a day?” Lydia said. “Are you anorexic?”

“Do I look anorexic?” With both hands, Liz pinched her belly; though the flesh there was not inordinate, neither was it nonexistent.

“I like an evening run,” Ham said. “Think about life while the sun goes down.”

“You sound like an old man,” Lydia said.

Genially, Ham said, “Compared to you, I
am
an old man.”

Lydia snickered. “Just so you know, that makes Liz an old woman. Not that you’ll get any argument from me.”

“You grew up in Seattle, right?” Liz said to Ham. “Where’d you go to high school?”

“Seriously?” Lydia said.

As in other midwestern cities, the question was considered both a local cliché and a method by which residents not-so-surreptitiously ascertained one another’s social status.

“If he’s not from here, obviously I didn’t mean it that way,” Liz said. “I was just wondering because my boss at
Mascara
is from Seattle.”

Briefly—so briefly that Liz almost didn’t notice—Ham and Lydia exchanged a look. “I grew up in the uncool burbs,” Ham said, and Lydia tugged on Ham’s arm and said, “We have to go.”

Ham said to Liz, “It seems right now isn’t the moment, but someday soon I’ll explain my complicated and tormented adolescence, when I’m not being physically pulled away by your sister.”

“Did you just have dinner with my parents?” Liz asked.

Ham shook his head. “Although I met them, and Jane and Mary. Thumbs-up all around.”

“Next time you should come earlier and eat with us.”

Lydia said, “Liz, sorry to break your heart, but Aunt Margo just called and told Mom that Charlotte Lucas is moving to California to live with Cousin Willie.”

Liz hadn’t expected the news to remain secret for long, but still—immediately upon leaving 21c, Charlotte must have given Willie the okay to spread the word.

Ham clicked his key, and the SUV made a pinging noise. He opened the passenger-side door—
Ah, chivalry,
Liz thought—and as Lydia climbed in, she said to Liz, “I guess if Willie’s a chubby chaser, you really aren’t anorexic.”

LIZ’S GOAL HAD
been to sneak back upstairs for a shower, but she was intercepted in the entry hall by her mother, whose countenance reflected a kind of outraged relish. “I’ll bet you’re having second thoughts about Willie now,” Mrs. Bennet said.

“Actually not,” Liz replied.

“Charlotte won’t have to work another day in her life.”

“Charlotte likes her job.”

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips. “Well, she certainly didn’t need to think long before giving notice to Procter & Gamble.”