My Own Mr. Darcy (20 page)

Chad’s house was dark
except for a light shining from a back window. I parked the car in front of his
house, grabbed the bag of takeout and the card I’d written earlier in the day
and walked to the dark front porch. The doorbell chimed a little tune but no
one came to the door.

Now what? I should have
called first. This idea to surprise him with dinner and a thank you note was a
bad idea. I couldn’t leave the food on his front porch. It smelled so good a
hungry animal would surely come to investigate. I stuck the note in the
old-fashioned mail slot beside the door. As soon as it slipped out of my hand,
I worried the mail slot had been built over on the inside and my card had just
disappeared forever inside the wall.

What was I doing? I
shouldn’t have come by. I should have called him instead. No, I should have just
texted a sincere thank you and been done with it.

But that hadn’t seemed
like enough. I had my first interior design job and it was all thanks to Chad.
I wanted him to know how grateful I was and a text just didn’t cut it. Dinner
and a card did, but here I stood with rapidly cooling takeout, a missing card,
and an empty house.

I trudged down the
sidewalk back to the car. I was just opening the door when Chad’s car pulled
into the driveway. Instead of pulling into the little garage behind the house,
Chad left the car running in the driveway and started toward me. I could see
his smile illuminated by the streetlight.

“Lizzie,” he said with
enthusiasm. “Congratulations!”

“So you’ve heard?”

“I talked to my mom this
afternoon. You blew them away. Mom said you even made her cry.”

Chad stopped a few feet
from where I stood by the driver’s door.

“They were really nice and
I’m so glad they liked it.”

“They didn’t like it. They
loved it. I wish I’d have been there. I’d have liked to see what you came up
with.”

I thought about my
portfolio and the sample board sitting in the back seat of my car. I wanted to
show it to him. I wanted to lay out the entire design. I wanted to watch his
reaction as I unveiled each idea.

Did I want to show him
because I was proud of it or because I just wanted to prolong my time with him?
I knew both answers were yes and the realization that I wanted to spend more
time with him made me stay quiet. It wouldn’t be right. I was dating Matt. It
was important that Chad and I keep things friendly and my shortness of breath
and the tugging in my stomach told me it would be easier to keep things
friendly if I didn’t go inside. If Chad felt the same way, it wouldn’t be fair
to him.

“I’m excited for you to
see it,” I said. “I’m pretty happy with the way it came out. Now if I can just
make the whole thing look as good finished as it does in my head, I’ll be
thrilled.”

“I’m sure you’ll do
great,” Chad said.

An awkward pause ensued.
Little clouds of cold air escaped our mouths as we breathed. I tried to keep my
breath slow and steady. I didn’t want my feelings to be apparent from my
nervous, shallow puffs.

Chad tugged on his
stocking cap, pulling it over his ears. “Do you want to come in?” he finally
said.

“No. No, I can’t. Thanks
though.”

“Was there a reason you
stopped by?”

“Oh, yes,” I said. My
cheeks were burning. “I wanted to say thank you, so I got you some takeout.
It’s from Pok Pok.”

“Ah, the Thai place you
told me about.”

“That’s the one.”

“I still haven’t eaten
there.”

“I also put a card in your
mail slot. Please tell me that goes into the house and it isn’t a black hole.”

One side of Chad’s mouth
rose into a small smile. “It goes into the house. I’ll get it when I go
inside.”

“Good.” Another
self-conscious pause.

“Are you sure you don’t want
to stay? And eat with me?” I shook my head. “I wish you would. I just picked up
some sweet and sour chicken and rice. I can’t eat all of this.”

I sighed. It would be so
easy to just say yes and enjoy some good food and a pleasant conversation. But
then what? “Oh Chad. I wish I could. I just can’t. But I’m sure this will still
be good tomorrow. Just heat it up in the microwave.” Chad’s hopeful expression
fell and a dump truck of sadness buried my heart under its load.

I shoved the bag of
takeout toward him. “Here. Thank you.”

Chad took the bag with one
hand placed it on the hood of the car at the same time that his other hand
reached out and pulled me close. He circled his arms around me without saying a
word.

For a moment I just stood
there, fighting an internal battle. And then I surrendered and wrapped my arms
around him. The cold no longer bothered me as his warmth surrounded me. He
smelled faintly of soap and chlorine. His chin rested on my head. I fit here so
perfectly.

“Your food’s going to get
cold,” I finally said.

“I know.”

“And your car’s still
running.”

“I know.”

Chad held me a little
tighter.

“I really have to go,” I
said but I didn’t move.

“I know.”

A few wonderful, agonizing
minutes later I pulled away. Chad touched my cheek with his cold fingers and it
took all my self-control not to take his hand between both of mine and hold it
until it was warm.

He took a big step
backwards putting more distance between us. “Thank you, Lizzie.”

“No. Thank you. So much.”

“You’re a good friend,” he
said.

“So are you.” I nearly
choked on the words.

Chad picked up the bag and
stepped up to the sidewalk. I kept my eyes straight ahead until I was several
houses away. When I glanced in the rear-view mirror, I saw Chad watching me
leave. I turned up the volume on the radio and switched through the stations
trying to find something that would distract me from the mess I was in. Nothing
worked and I jammed the button angrily to turn it off.

What the crap was I doing?
Why was I such a fool? Chad was a great guy but he wasn’t what I’d been
dreaming of my whole life. I’d finally found that. Matt was it for me and if I
didn’t sabotage myself, I knew my dream would come true.

“Stop being so stupid!” I
said aloud and slammed my hand on the steering wheel. “Don’t ruin everything.
You’re the luckiest girl alive.”

I wished I were more
convincing. I wanted to believe myself.

 “WHAT ARE YOU
looking
for?” I asked. I didn’t mean for my words to sound so sharp.

“The can opener.” Janessa
closed one drawer and opened another.

“It’s in the dishwasher,”
I said.

“Thanks.” Janessa opened a
can of peaches. She ate a large bowl of cold peaches with peanut butter on
toast at least once a week. She took a deep breath as she poured the peaches
into a bowl. “Okay, Lizzie. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Sorry I
snapped at you.”

“You’ve been snapping at
me for three days now. Why are you in such a foul mood?”

“I guess I just have a lot
on my mind.”

Janessa shook her head. “I
was excited for you when you got the job for Chad’s mom, but if you’re going to
be in a poopy mood for the next six weeks, I wish they’d have told you no.”

“It’s not the job. And I
said I’m sorry.”

“If it’s not the job, then
what is it? Are things okay with you and Fitswilliam?”

“I guess.” I ate a bite of
mashed potatoes. They lodged against the lump in my throat and I thought I
might gag.

“I guess? That’s the best
you can do? No gushing? No drooling? No singing his aristocratic praises?”

“Please Janessa. Just
stop. I’m not in the mood.” My appetite was gone. I vigorously scraped my plate
into the garbage.

“Whoa. Not in the mood for
what? You know I’m just teasing you.”

“I know. I don’t feel very
teaseable right now. Sorry,” I said again. The lump in my throat was growing. I
had to get out of here. “I’m going to go for a walk,” I said.

“Liz, wait. What’s wrong?”
Janessa’s arm went around my shoulder and that was all it took. Why did I always
start to cry when someone tried to comfort me? A tear escaped, burning my
cheek.

“I don’t know what’s wrong
with me.” I said, collapsing into Janessa’s hug.

“Hey, it’s okay. Cry if it
will make you feel better.”

I sniffed and pulled away.
“It won’t make me feel better. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

Janessa held my hand in
hers and led me to the couch. “Let’s figure it out.” She snatched a tissue from
the box on the table and handed it to me. “Seriously, how are things with
Matt?”

I blew my nose and Janessa
handed me the tissue box. “Matt’s good.”

“Is he still forcing his
nasty food on you?”

I laughed. “No. He’s not
even as adamant about his own food. Last time we had lunch he bought us both
chicken tamales.”

“Is he still being funny
about your job with Chad’s mom?”

“Not really. He hasn’t
said a word about it since I told him on Sunday.”

“Are you nervous about the
job?”

“Maybe a little. But
mostly I’m just excited to get started.”

Janessa looked puzzled.
“So it’s not the job and it’s not your honey, so what is it?” Janessa’s concern
was touching but how could I tell her what I feared was really wrong? How could
I tell her that even though I was dating the man of my dreams, I felt lonely
for someone I couldn’t have? I was a terrible person. Greedy and selfish. I
wanted Matt—handsome, interesting, perfect Matt. But I wanted to be friends with
Chad. I wanted to talk to him and spend time with him even though I knew it
would hurt him. The more I tried to put him out of my mind, the more frustrated
I became.

“Maybe I’m just tired.”

“You know you can talk to
me, right?”  Janessa asked.

I nodded. “I know. And I
promise I’d talk to you if I thought talking would help.”

Janessa searched my face
so intensely I was afraid she’d read my traitorous thoughts. I picked up a
throw pillow and twisted the fringe. “I really think I need a walk.”

“It’s dark outside. You’re
not going alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said.

“No way are you going
alone. I’ll come with you.”

“Thanks.”

It was a quiet, cold
night. Sugar crystal stars filled the sky as we walked through the quiet
streets of our neighborhood. I was glad Janessa had come with me. We talked
about Urban Elegance. Janessa’s boss was sending her on a buying trip to New
York in a few weeks. “I’d be more flattered if it felt like she trusted me,”
Janessa said. “I have to send her photos of everything so she can make the
final decision.

“Why doesn’t she just go
herself?” I asked.

“Her daughter is in the
high school play. I think she’s the one who marries the oldest brother in
Seven
Brides for Seven Brothers
. Sue said she’s bought tickets to every
performance. She’ll be watching her daughter sing and texting me yes or no on
belts and dresses at the same time.”

I sighed. “Just take me
with you. We’ll eat hot dogs on the street and see a Broadway play and . . .”

“You do know I’m going to
work, right?”

“I know. Getting out of
Portland just sounds so good right now.”

“Aren’t you going to
Seattle with Matt soon?”

“We’re leaving next
Saturday after I get off work. I’ll be back Sunday night.”

“Good. You can get out of
Portland for a couple of days.”

“Going to Seattle with
Matt and Meg for business isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted
to get out of Portland.”

“I know. But I’ll bet
you’ll have a good time anyway.”

“I wish you could come
with me. We’ll sneak away while they do business and buy cheese and crackers and
smoked salmon at the market.”