Working It Out (31 page)

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The theater was nearly empty. It might have been because
of the late hour but I suspected it was because this movie was going to be a
snoozefest.

“Darn, they got the best seats,” Mom said, tilting her
head toward a row of silver-haired women.

“Mom, there are plenty of seats,” I said.

“I know, I know. I just wanted to be right in the
center.” Mom started up the dimly lit stairs. We lagged a few steps behind her.

“What have we gotten ourselves into?” I whispered to
Janessa.

She gave me a stern, best-friend glare and an elbow jab.
“Your mom’s excited. Don’t spoil it for her.” I rolled my eyes.

Janessa and I were the only teenagers in the room.
Everyone else was even older than Mom. The five silver-haired women were
talking loudly and giggling. They probably didn’t get out much. One of the
women held a handbag the size of carryon luggage in her lap and another had a
scarf with a jeweled pin that sparkled even in the near darkness.

There wasn’t a man in sight. No wonder Dad had refused to
come.

“How about here?” Mom said, indicating seats two rows in
front of the senior citizen contingency. I looked at Janessa and she shrugged
her shoulders. We followed Mom into the row and I planted myself with a sigh
into the plush seat. At least the theater was nice—new enough that my seat
still had spring and my feet didn’t stick to the floor.

Mom linked her arm through mine. “Lizzie, you could at
least pretend to be having fun. I’m letting you go to a late movie on a school
night. Do you think you could muster up a teeny tiny smile?”

I gave my mom a cheesy, fake smile. She shook her head
and laughed and I caved and smiled a real smile. “I don’t understand why you
wouldn’t want to come,” Mom said. “You know you were named after the main
character.”

“I thought I was named after Dad’s aunt,” I said.

Mom waved me off. “Her, too. I wanted to name you
Elizabeth after Elizabeth Bennet because she’s strong and smart and confident.
All the things I wanted you to become. Dad thought it was silly to name you
after a character in a book, especially since our last name is Barrett. I
finally got him to agree by reminding him he could tell everyone you were named
after his aunt.”

“Just because I’m named after her doesn’t mean this movie
won’t be boring.”

Janessa elbowed me again. “Come on, Lizzie. This is
better than homework. Or being in bed. Thanks for convincing my mom to let me
come, Mrs. Barrett.”

“I’m glad you could join us,” Mom said.

“You’ll have to tell us how closely it follows the book,”
I said.

Mom looked at me with suspicion. “Just remember, you
girls are seeing this movie in addition to reading the book. Not instead of
reading it.”

“Of course, we’ll read it,” Janessa said.

The truth was I had no intention of reading the book. I’d
started it three times since Mr. Malloy gave us the reading list and I just
didn’t get it. The words made no sense and by the third page, I was lost. I was
depending on this movie and the Internet to give me all the information I’d
need to ace this unit.

“I’m serious. Lizzie? You girls promise me you’re going
to read the book or we’ll leave right now. I won’t help you cheat.” I stared at
a woman with an unusually large smile on the screen. I guess her oversized
white teeth were supposed to entice us to visit Dr. Stonesmith’s office for
free teeth whitening. “Are you going to read the book, Lizzie?” The screen
changed to a lawyer with perfect helmet-hair who could defend my rights if I
was hurt in an auto accident. “Lizzie?”

“You know I always end up reading the books, Mom. I’m a
good student. That’s why I’m in Honors English.”

“We’ll read it together, Mrs. Barrett,” Janessa said.

Satisfied, Mom settled back into her seat. “You’re going
to love it. I’ve read it every few years since I was your age. And I’ve seen
the 6-hour mini-series at least three times,” Mom said. “This is going to be
fun.”

I enjoy a good romance and Mom assured me this was, but I
preferred romances that took place in the twenty-first century. I’d seen a
couple of movies made in the eighties and nineties that I liked, but only a
couple. Mr. Malloy had told us Pride and Prejudice was a classic romance from
the early nineteenth century.

That was two-hundred years ago!

Jane Austen may have been a talented writer, but what did
anyone from two-hundred years ago know about romance? And Mom. Sitting here in
her mom-jeans and a pale blue polo shirt, Mom didn’t exactly inspire romantic
confidence. She couldn’t even convince Dad to come with her. If this was a
romance for the ages, it shouldn’t have been difficult to persuade the love of
her life to sit beside her in a dark theater for an hour and a half.

When Dad had refused for the tenth time, Mom turned to
me. Lucky for her, Pride and Prejudice was next on our reading list or it would
have taken a hefty bribe to get me here, whether I was named after this
Elizabeth or not. Thank goodness for Janessa. At least sitting through the
movie would give us something we could laugh about later.

The lights dimmed and the previews began. I nestled down
in my seat and propped my feet up in front of me.

I have a theory about previews. I think you can tell a
lot about a movie by the previews they show before it and if my theory held up,
we were in trouble. The first trailer was for a movie about a Scottish cyclist
with bi-polar disorder. Fun! The star was cute but the movie looked dismal. The
second starred Russell Crowe as a greedy businessman who learns the meaning of
life when he travels to Europe to sell a vineyard. Ugh. Riveting stuff.

The movie opened with some pretty scenes of the English
countryside and a piano song so gentle and lilting, it could have put me to
sleep. Elizabeth walked across the meadow reading. I’d seen Keira Knightley in
Bend it Like Beckham and she looked even prettier here. There was a houseful of
girls and a silly mother. There was a father that liked to tease the mother.
And woo hoo! The new guy was single and rich and he was going to be at the
dance.

Soon a crowd of poorly dressed country folk was dancing
to some lively music. It was crowded and noisy and I could imagine the room
probably smelled bad.

And then something happened—both on the screen and inside
me. I took my feet off the seat in front of me and leaned forward. The new guy
and his friend had just walked into the dance. Mr. Bingley was smiley and
charming and cute in a goofy way, but I hardly noticed him. His friend was Mr.
Darcy.

And Mr. Darcy was magnificent.

Sure, he was surly and dour. But he was tall and
imposing. He looked around the room with contempt and while his mouth said
boorish things about the local girls, his eyes were drawn toward Elizabeth.

Blue eyes. Interesting eyes. Expressive eyes.

The rest of the movie I was enchanted. I ached for it to
go on and on and dreaded the moment it would end. Every time Mr. Darcy was on
the screen, I melted. When he looked at Elizabeth, I couldn’t breathe. When he
helped her into the carriage, I gripped the armrest a little tighter. When he
danced with her my heart stopped beating for a second. He was the most
intriguing man I’d ever seen.

Did I mention Mr. Darcy’s eyes?

And then they argued in the rain and they were so
passionate and the place was so beautiful. I knew every daydream I’d ever
dreamed would have to be re-imagined to include those giant, mossy pillars and
that vast, green countryside. Even the rain was romantic.

I wondered if they’d kiss. I wanted them to kiss. The
anticipation of it all was killing me and I considered asking mom how it would
end just to ease my mind, but I couldn’t let her know how much I was enjoying
this movie she’d had to drag me to. Mr. Darcy leaned in so close I don’t know
how they didn’t kiss. His feelings were so obvious in his eyes I don’t know how
Elizabeth could stand it.

And then Elizabeth refused him. How could she? Just kiss
her! She’d be putty in his hands if he’d just kiss her. But he didn’t and when
he left and she collapsed against the wall, I wanted to cry.

Oh no! I was going to cry. I couldn’t cry at this movie.
That would be far too embarrassing. I blinked hard and fast.

It took much too long for Mr. Darcy to reappear on the
screen. Okay fine. It wasn’t that long, but it felt much too long. He was so
quiet and hard to read, but when he was with his sister, he was happy and he
smiled.

Oh my goodness. That smile. And I wanted to float away in
his eyes.

I loved this movie and it was going to end much too
quickly. Finally Mr. Bingley, who turned out to be more adorable than goofy
proposed to beautiful Jane. And then there was the hateful aunt. Rich snob! No
wonder Mr. Darcy was so arrogant. And then Elizabeth couldn’t sleep because she
knew she was in love with Mr. Darcy, so she went for an early morning walk in
the meadow.

The meadow.

During the forty-five seconds that Mr. Darcy walked
across the meadow, my life changed. Each long stride he took toward me—I mean
Elizabeth—lodged itself in my heart and I would never be the same. The mist,
the sunrise, the trench coat, and the sweet declaration of his love melded into
the most beautiful few minutes I’d ever seen and I was bewitched body and soul.

I felt a terrible emptiness when the movie ended. Mom and
Janessa started talking almost immediately but I didn’t listen to them. I sat
perfectly still, listening as the piano music filled my soul.

When the lights came up, I followed Mom and Janessa out
of the theater to the chilly, almost-empty parking lot. “Did you like it?” Mom
asked. I nodded. “What about you, Janessa?”

“It was much better than I thought it would be,” she
said. “At least I’m not dreading the book so much now.”

“You’ll love the book,” Mom said.

“I’ll understand it better now that I’ve seen the movie,”
Janessa said. “Lizzie? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You have a funny look on your face.”

I shook myself back to the present. “No, you have a funny
look on your face.” Maybe sarcasm could rescue me. I couldn’t let them know how
utterly transformed I was.

Janessa shook her head. “Whatever.”

That night I couldn’t fall asleep. Something had happened
to me. I was no longer the person I’d been just a few short hours ago. I didn’t
think about Jake from the soccer team, the boy who’d been my crush for the last
six months. I no longer cared if he noticed me or not. He was just a boy, after
all.

That night a dream was born. I’d discovered what I
wanted, what I knew someday I must have. I knew I could never be satisfied
until I found it.

I wanted my own Mr. Darcy.