The Best of Fools (Jane Austen Book 2)

WINSLET PRESS

The Best of Fools

Copyright © 2015 by Marilyn Grey

SMASHWORDS EDITION

To learn more about Marilyn Grey, visit her Web site:

www.marilyn-grey.com

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, etc.—except for quotations in reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Contact the publisher at: [email protected]

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

To:
Laura Dobb

my real, live true British friend

Amazing how two people can meet, live across the ocean, never hug or laugh together over a cup of tea, yet be so closely linked together that you wonder if this friendship was somehow always a part of your life. I couldn't have written this book without you. Literally. You helped with little words and odds and ends to make Alistair a bit more realistic, since I've never been to England although we all know it's my dream. :-) Laura, you are such a beautiful person. So devoted and caring and compassionate and lovely. I love your humour. I spelled it with a U for you. :-) And I love the way you care for your son and your family. I love your joy and your "can do" attitude. You're a lot like Jane to me. You don't give up, no matter how hard it gets. And you try to keep going. To smile. To Live. And to love. You remind me of this book. The message at the heart of it.

Carpe Diem

I wish you a long, joyful life like that of The Best of Fools. And I hope our friendship only continues to grow until one day I am your neighbor and we can have a cuppa with a tea cake. :-)

Love you, duck!

I stared at the box on my bed. Donovan gave it to me two days ago and I still didn't have it in me to open it, so I found a good hiding place in my closet and tucked it away. Then, on days like today, I'd stare at it and wonder. Maybe after graduation I'd open it. Only a few more weeks. Donovan could come over and be with me just in case it dredged up old memories I didn't know how to process.

Autumn knocked on the door and walked into my bedroom. "Heard from Don?"

"He emailed." I plopped on to my bed. "So far, so good. He said she's wonderful."

"Still can't believe you're letting him do this."

"Me? Letting him?" I laughed. "I told you, Autumn, I don't know ... fifty seven times now ... I am not in love with Donovan."

She tapped a picture of Donovan that I had taped to my mirror. "You guys are perfect for each other. I don't get it."

She continued looking at all of my photographs. Autumn and I had only been friends since junior year. She transferred to our school from Mt. Claymont, some private school up north, when her dad got a new job down here. Her guidance counselor, who happened to be mine as well, assigned me to be her "Welcome Buddy." We still joke about the title today. Instant friends, though. Just like Donovan and I eleven years earlier. Just like Alistair and I two days ago. Alistair Anonymous. Would I see him again?

Probably not. Life changes too much in four years. He'd probably forget anyway.

"Daydreaming about your British lover again?" She tapped the note I taped to my mirror, then double-looked. "Um, did you realize he put the wrong date?"

I walked over to her. "What?"

She pointed. "He said four years when you're twenty one. You'll be twenty two then."

"So did he mean four years or my twenty first birthday?"

"What if you pick the wrong day?"

I laughed. "It was a fun day, but not the best day of my life. I don't plan on actually showing up."

"You could always show up both years."

I shook my head. "Oh, right. That's so like me."

"I could show up for you."

"Go right ahead." I smiled and grabbed my purse from my dresser. "Let's go."

"You were dreaming of him, weren't you?" She poked my shoulder. "You didn't deny it."

"I wasn't dreaming of Alistair."

She let out a fake laugh. "Right."

My brother popped out of his room before we reached the stairs. Figured he would. He had a thing for Autumn and really, who wouldn't? Long, soft blonde hair that always seemed perfectly in place, topped off with completely unique and bright, bright green eyes, like emerald or something. She'd look amazing in a trash bag.

"Where you guys going?" Eddie—yes, after Edward from
Sense and Sensibility
—said. "Can I come?"

Autumn smiled. "Just going to the craft store so your old lady sister can get some more yarn for her knitting projects."

I lightly backhanded her arm. "I'll convert you to a knitter one day and you know it. You can come if you want, Ed."

Poor sixteen-year-old and heavily hormonal Eddie looked utterly confused. Craft store. Autumn. Tough decision.

"You coming back after?" he said.

I nodded.

"I'll see ya then." He disappeared into his room and Autumn and I walked out to the car.

"That's so cute," she said.

"Don't get any ideas."

"He's like two inches shorter than me."

"So are most guys."

"True, but he's a sophomore. I'd never...."

"Never say never. I spent my birthday with—“

"Amorous Alistair."

I laughed and opened the car door. "Exactly."

Autumn wasn't into knitting or sewing or anything crafty, but she suffered through my hour long journeys as I perused every aisle of JoAnn Fabrics. That's what friends are for.

I ran my fingers along a beautiful chiffon fabric and pondered using it for my prom dress, which I so predictably waited until the last minute to make.

"Not that one." Oh, Autumn. Reading my mind again.

"You sure you don't want me to make yours too?"

She shook her head. "I love your work and totally trust you for my wedding dress one day, but I already found the perfect dress."

"Can't wait to see it." I thumbed through a few more colors of possibility. "What color did you get? At least tell me that."

"Red. Deep red."

"That's going to look amazing on you."

She ignored the compliment as usual and stopped in front of a gorgeous green fabric, nearly the color of her eyes.

"Ooh!" I jumped in front of her and pulled the Emerald City sparkly fabric out, standing it between us. "This is it. This is totally one-hundred percent the one."

"No," she said. "It's pretty, but we'll be like a Christmas tree. If you're going to be my date there's no way I'm showing up looking like we belong at the North Pole."

I laughed. "That's hilarious. Good call. Hmmm..."

"How about this?" She pulled out a sparkly ivory chiffon. "Red and ivory would go well together."

I scrunched my face and slipped it back to the shelf.

"Black? Gray? Blue? Purple?"

"Gray could be interesting." I found a nice one and pulled it out, imagining what I'd create. "Yeah. I think I could do something cool with this. Just need a little white, black, and maybe a dash of red to match yours."

"I can't believe we're going to prom together." She smiled. "Not exactly the way I imagined it."

"It's not like you didn't have other options."

"Eh. I won't see any of those guys ten years from now. It's a special night. I know we'll always be friends and I'd rather remember having fun with you."

"I so love you."

I stuffed the fabric under my arm and perused the aisles for the other things I needed. Autumn followed, looking deep in thought. I knew what she was thinking, but didn't want to bring it up. I'm a huge fan of not poking and prodding people. They'll open up when they're ready as long as you're there with open arms.

My phone beeped. I pulled it out of my purse and opened the new email from Donovan.

Hey Jazz,

Hope everything is well there. Maria and I are having an amazing time. I can't believe how much we've hit it off. I'm actually looking at colleges here now. I think she might be the one, Jazzy.... I'll be home tomorrow. See ya at the airport. Love you... Donovan

"What was that?" Autumn said.

I reread the email and lingered on that line. The line. She might be the one.

"What's wrong?" she said.

"What?" I slipped my phone back into my bag. "Nothing's wrong."

"I may have only known you a year, but you know you are my best friend and I can definitely tell something's wrong."

I grabbed the black fabric I wanted. "Nothing important."

Saturday morning I fumbled out of bed and went back to the airport to get Donovan. I'd be lying if I said I didn't look around, wondering if Alistair was somehow still there. The memory of him hadn't left me, but it felt too unrealistic to be real. It reminded me of the guys you meet at the beach, kiss once under the stars, then say goodbye to and never see them again. So fun, but so important that you forget their name by the next summer.

"Guess who.” Donovan's hands covered my eyes.

I turned and hugged him as tight as possible.

"Miss me much?"

I squeezed harder. "That answer your question?"

He laughed. "Let me see the tattoo."

I revealed my arm.

"Nice."

"You like?"

He nodded. "Of course I do. It's part of you."

"Well, technically it's not part of me. Just ink inside of me. Kinda creepy now that I think of it that way."

He smiled. "Let's go. We have a lot of catching up to do and I'm starving."

"Starvin' Marvin."

He laughed. "Your old nickname."

"I didn't realize at the time what a disastrous thing it would be to wear that Marvin the Martian shirt."

We laughed.

"Yeah, and I rescued you from ridicule," he said. "I can't remember how though."

"Neither can I. So funny though. I was mortified."

"Yeah, but look what those things did to you. Now you're turning into a woman who doesn't need the world's approval to be who she wants to be."

"I hope so." I wanted to tell him that I looked for his approval, but suddenly I felt weird.

We got in my car and drove to Wendy's. His request. Then ate in the car as we drove back home. We didn't talk much for a while, then he randomly said, "So, tell me about your British lover, Jane Austen."

"Don't even." I threw my empty sandwich wrapper in his face as I stopped at a red light.

He threw it back.

A few minutes later I parked in his driveway. He grabbed the strap of his bags and looked at the house.

"I'm exhausted, Jazzy." He looked at me.

Why did my heart just stop beating for a second? Why did his eyes—out of nowhere—look ten times more amazing, like pools I wanted to jump into and explore. "Don't go home," I wanted to say. It felt like forever since we talked. Really talked. Plus, the box. I wanted to open it with him beside me.

"Want to go catch the sky?" he said. "Let me just go put my bags inside."

I laughed. "I never said yes. Won't it be a little weird now? I mean, aren't you taken now?"

"No." He looked down. "More on that later."

I followed him inside. Alyssa ran and jumped into his arms. He twirled her around as she buried her head in his neck and cried happy tears.

"Oh, come on, Lyssa. It wasn't that long." He set her down and she hugged his legs.

"Look who's back.” Mr. Slovak hugged Donovan, then turned to me. "And you too." My body disappeared in his bear arms. "You two hungry? Mom's making your favorite dinner."

"We just ate," Don said. "But I think we're gonna go for a quick drive and by the time we're back I think we'll be ready for that dinner."

I nodded.

Mrs. Slovak entered the living room as she wiped her hands on her "Kiss Me or Don't Eat" apron.

"Son," she said. "So glad you're back. Hi, Jane. How's your family doing? I heard your dad got a new job."