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Chapter 22
April, 1999
She heard the connection
ring once, and then came the dreaded three-tone alert.
"I'm sorry.
The number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer
in service. If you believe you have reached this recording in
error, please hang up and dial the operator."
Elizabeth hung up
the phone in frustration. Apparently, Darcy didn't just change
his phone number; he had the service disconnected. Had he moved?
Probably. It made sense. Why stay in New Orleans, with all the
publicity going on, when he could simply return to Pemberley
and commute in? And the number to Pemberley was unlisted. She
sighed. Chuck Bingley may have forgiven her, but he wasn't going
to give her that number or the one to Will's cell.
Chris was no solution.
He was still in the apartment and would answer his cell phone,
but he wouldn't give up Darcy's number, either. None of the other
AIs would speak to her.
Lizzy groaned. How
was she going to apologize to William if she couldn't get in
touch with him - wait for him outside the Business School building
as he exited class? No, she not only didn't know his schedule,
she couldn't take the chance that he would refuse to talk to
her. Her wounded ego could not stand that.
There was only one
solution. Words had gotten her into trouble, therefore, she would
use words to get her out of it. She looked at her computer, but
changed her mind. An email would be too impersonal. Something
this important had to be handwritten. William deserved nothing
less.
She reached for
a legal pad and began drafting her letter.
~*~*~
Lizzy leaned back
to review her effort.
Dear William,
Thank you for
reading this letter of apology. I want to say straight out that
what I wrote in my article was wrong, and what I said to you
during our argument was wrong. What was implied about your father
in the story was despicable. I can only say in my defense that
I did not write that part about you and your family - others
did. Yet, I cowardly allowed it to be added to the article. I
hope you had the chance to read my retraction. It was too long
in coming, but I hope you can appreciate that I did realize my
error and have tried to make amends.
I make no excuses
for what I did, but I hope you will give me the opportunity to
explain what happened and why I allowed myself to hurt someone
who I had seen as a friend. You have been a friend to me, William,
and I am truly sorry for the pain I caused you and your family.
Marianne is one
of my closest friends. In fact, she is like a sister to me. When
I realized that harm had befallen her, I became livid. I could
forgive someone harming me, but not one of my sisters, or someone
as close to me as a sister. My one thought was revenge. I know
that feeling was wrong; I was taught better, by my family and
my faith. Yet, I allowed my anger to blind me.
When I went to
the AI House that Thursday night, I was not thinking critically.
I wanted answers, and in my arrogance, thought I deserved them.
I should have trusted my friends. I did not. That was wrong.
Why did I listen
to Greg Wickham and believe his story? I could say that he was
very convincing with his half-truths and outright lies. And while
that would be accurate, it wouldn't be the whole truth.
William, I must
admit that I was angry with you. Somehow, during the months I
had gotten to know you, I grew to believe that you were the most
honorable person I knew. I trusted you and held you to an impossibly
high standard. I felt that my friends and I were safe with you.
Irrationally, when Mari was hurt, I blamed you for not protecting
her. I felt you personally had let my friends and me down.
Yes, I know this
is unreasonable. In fact, it's almost insane. It has taken me
a very long time to realize I even felt this way. Once I did
know it, I had to think for a very long time to determine why.
I now know why. It is because I respect you so much. I know that
sounds funny, after what I said and what I wrote, but it is the
truth. When Mari was hurt and you wouldn't talk to me, I felt
betrayed.
I don't know
why you wouldn't talk with me that night. I wish you had, but
I guess you had your reasons. Perhaps you knew I wouldn't listen
to you. I like to think I would have, but perhaps you're right,
given the events that followed.
Our argument
hurt me very much for two reasons. First, because much of what
you said about me was right. Not about my ambition - I cared
nothing about having my byline in the paper, and I still don't.
But my desire for revenge was my motivating factor, and it was
just as wrong.
Second, because
of the feelings you admitted to me. I was surprised, because
I had no idea you felt that way about me. Now that I can reflect
upon it, I am even more disgusted with myself. I can only imagine
the pain I caused you, a person I care about more than I knew.
William, I must
admit that you have sometimes intimidated me. It is not your
fault. Your confidence, your intelligence, and your success should
have been something to admire; and, in a way, I have. But I thought
you were too good for my company. I know now that I really thought
I was not good enough for you, and that rankled.
I do not blame
you - this was totally on me. You have always been a gentleman
and a friend - until I attacked you. I didn't know how special
you were until you were gone.
I'm not telling
you that I care about you to earn your forgiveness. I don't deserve
it. But as you were honest with me, I must be honest with you.
You were once one of my dearest friends, and no matter whether
you can forgive me or not, you shall always remain my friend
in my heart.
My one wish is
to deliver this apology to you and your family in person. But
if that is impossible, I offer this letter as a poor substitute.
If you choose to end our acquaintance, I will certainly understand
and respect your wishes. I will only add that I wish you only
happiness in the future.
God bless you,
Elizabeth Boudreaux
Lizzy wiped away
a tear as she bent to address an envelope.
~*~*~
May, 1999
Mari looked up as
Lizzy walked through the door. "I picked up your mail."
The girls had long ago shared their post office box combinations.
Lizzy looked at
the stack. She paused at the third one, marked Return to Sender.
It was her letter to William, and the address was crossed off.
Her return address was circled.
Lizzy sat down in
a huff. Now what? She glanced at the Loyola calendar on
the wall. The word graduation caught her attention.
Lizzy moved to her
computer and pulled up the Tulane calendar off the Internet.
~*~*~
John Buford, in
a golf shirt and shorts, was sitting on his couch in the front
room of his condo, feet on his coffee table, one hand holding
his TV remote, the other arm wrapped around his Carrie Bingley
as she leaned into him, the LSU Tiger baseball team on the tube.
A big bowl of popcorn was on the table and there was a beer within
reach. He couldn't think of a better way to spend a warm Saturday
afternoon.
"Aw, come on,
ump, are you blind? That wasn't a strike!" complained Carrie.
She was wearing an LSU t-shirt commemorating the four college
baseball NCAA championships the Tigers had earned in the 1990s.
Buford shook his
head in agreement with his girlfriend's opinion when the doorbell
rang. "Hang on, I'll get it," he said as he got to
his feet. Carrie said nothing, her concentration on the game
before her. A moment later, her attention was on something else
entirely.
"Where is she?
Where's my daughter?" came a woman's voice from the foyer.
Carrie's eyes snapped
open wide. She leapt to her feet, her heart in her stomach, as
Catherine Bingley swept into the room, followed by Buford. "Mom!
What are you doing here?"
"I might ask
the same of you, Caroline Ann Bingley! This certainly isn't Ellie
Elliot's dorm room. I don't know what kind of finals you're studying
for, but it doesn't look like Public Policy!" She had her
hands on her hips.
Carrie blanched.
She had decided to keep her relationship with John Buford secret
from her mother for the present. Knowing the woman's obsession
with Carrie marrying well - particularly with William Darcy -
Carrie had wished to put off the inevitable confrontation until
a future day. In the weeks that passed, Carrie had kept delaying
and procrastinating. Now the day of reckoning was upon them.
Still, Carrie was
not one to back down. "Mom, let me introduce you to my boyfriend,
John."
Buford extended
his hand with a smile. "John Taylor Buford, Jr. at your
service, ma'am."
Catherine Bingley
ignored the gesture. "We'll see about that. I wish to speak
to my daughter for a few minutes - alone."
Buford took the
insult with good grace. "Of course. Make yourself at home.
I'll be in the kitchen." He gave Carrie a quick wink and
left the room.
"Mother, you
have no?" Carrie began.
Mrs. Bingley cut
her off. "Don't you take that tone of voice with me, young
lady! Just what do you think you're doing?"
"I'm watching
a baseball game with my boyfriend, Mom. I'm certainly of age
to do that."
"Your boyfriend!"
The older woman pointed at the kitchen. "That's your
boyfriend? And just when were you going to tell me?" She
didn't allow Carrie to answer. "Never, I suppose. If it
weren't for Gloria Van de Snoot telling me she's seen you in
this neighborhood… Ah! You didn't know she lives just down
the block, did you? She tells me you've been spending a great
deal of time here!"
"You had me
followed?"
"Don't be so
dramatic! I just had lunch with Gloria. That's when she told
me."
"So you came
looking for me. Why didn't you just call?"
"Why, so you
could lie? No, I wanted to see for myself."
Carrie sighed. "Very
well, you've met John. I suppose you're wondering why I didn't
tell you before. It's because I knew you'd react just like this."
"And just how
am I reacting?"
"Over-reacting,
Mother. You're overreacting. I knew you'd be disappointed…"
"And why shouldn't
I be? You're throwing away your chance of landing William Darcy!"
"MOTHER, STOP
IT! I'm not landing anybody, especially William Darcy!
You are so intent on me making this great catch, you've forgotten
about how I feel - about what I want."
Mrs. Bingley sneered.
"How would you know what you want? You're too young to know
what you want!"
"I'm almost
twenty-two, Mom."
"Twenty-two
- and you think you know everything! Let me tell you, missy,
if I knew what I know now when I was twenty-two…"
"Mother, I
DON'T want to talk about Daddy!"
"Very well,
then. Get your things - we're leaving right now."
"Leaving? I'm
not leaving!"
"Yes, you are!
You are not going to throw your life away, not while you're living
under my roof!"
Before Carrie could
respond, Buford strolled out of the back of the condo with a
polite smile on his face. "Pardon me, ladies, but I couldn't
help but overhear your conversation. I think everybody ought
to settle down so we can talk about this like adults."
Catherine Bingley
turned on him. "You're intruding on a private conversation!
Leave us immediately!"
Buford's smile disappeared
from his face. "Pardon me, again, Mrs. Bingley, but you
are sadly mistaken about something. This is my house,
and no one dismisses me from one of my rooms. I would
suggest you sit down - right there," he pointed at a chair,
"and then we'll continue our conversation."
"How…how
dare you…"
"Sit - down
- ma'am."
Buford's posture
could not be called threatening - he was barely in the room.
His voice was low and controlled. But his eyes blazed with a
righteous blue fire. Mrs. Bingley could feel the force of his
personality, and with a small gasp, half fell into the chair
indicated. Carrie could withstand his power no more than her
mother, and a moment later found herself seated, even though
her boyfriend's command was directed at Mrs. Bingley.
Buford's expression
changed immediately. "Thank you, Mrs. Bingley," he
said calmly. "I'm sure we've got a lot to talk about, but
I think we ought to find out a couple things first." He
turned to Carrie.
Gently he asked,
"Carrie, do you want to leave?"
Carrie's eyes started
to fill. "Oh, John, I think it's best that Mother and I…"
"Carrie. Do
you want to leave?"
The pair stared
into each other's eyes. Buford's blue eyes blazed again, but
not in anger this time. Carrie felt the same exposed sensation
she had experienced in February in a Metairie motel room. She
knew Buford could see into her soul.
"No."
Buford smiled. "Good.
I don't want you to leave, either."
Catherine Bingley
was heard from again. "Well, I'm not going to sit
around here…"
Without taking his
eyes off Carrie or losing his smile, Buford said, "Mrs.
Bingley, we're not finished yet." The statement sounded
like a command. He blinked as he seemed to gather his thoughts.
"Carrie, this might be a little soon, but I think it's time
we've made it clear how things stand between us and where we're
going."
With that, he got
on one knee before her.
"Caroline Ann
Bingley, you are the most important person in my life. I love
knowing you, I love being with you, and I cannot image spending
my life with anyone else in this world. I love you with all my
heart, with all my strength, and with all my soul. Please make
my life complete by saying that you feel the same, that you will
live with me, be with me, and grow old with me. Carrie, my dearest
love, will you marry me?"
"Oh, my god…"
gasped Mrs. Bingley.
For her part, Carrie
could say nothing. In fact, she could hardly believe what she
had just heard. Only Buford's intense, loving, and nervous gaze
convinced her that she wasn't dreaming. Still, she could only
manage to nod her head as her hands flew to her lips, at first
gently, and then with far more enthusiasm as a smile grew on
her face. Finally, like a bubble bursting forth, she cried though
her fingers, "Yes! Oh my god, yes!"
Buford reached into
his jeans pocket. "Here, this is for you. I bought it a
little while ago, not planning to give it so soon. But I just
got it from my bedroom, seeing how it might come in handy…"
He handed her the small box.
"Oh, give me
a break," came a voice from behind him.
"Quiet, Mother,"
said Carrie absently as she opened the box. Glittering inside
was a small diamond set in a gold band. She giggled slightly
as she wiped a tear from her eye.
"It's not that
big, I know," Buford was saying. "Just call it a down
payment on what you deserve."
"Hush up, you
lovely man," she said happily. She allowed Buford to take
the ring out of the box and slip it on her ring finger. It fit
perfectly. "I love it, Johnny. Oh, I love you so much,"
she said as she leaned in to share a kiss. "How did you
know my size?"
"Uhh…I
guessed." He didn't want to admit he had tried on one of
Carrie's rings as she slept after a night of making love a month
ago and found it fit his pinkie. Mrs. Bingley didn't need to
know that.
"Thank you,
sweetie."
They shared a look
of deep understanding. "I told you that you were
doomed."
"Yes, you did."
She lightly stroked his face.
Buford grinned and
got to his feet after kissing the ring and the finger it now
graced. He turned to his future mother-in-law. "Mrs. Bingley,
I'm afraid we got off on the wrong foot. Now that everyone understands
how things are, I hope we can make it up over dinner tonight.
Why don't you take a seat on the couch next to Carrie? I'm sure
you've got a lot of planning to do for the wedding…"
he turned his head towards his intended, "…when, babe?
Next year - the summer after you graduate?"
"That sounds
fine, Johnny." Her head was still in a whir.
"It's your
call, sweetheart." He turned back to Mrs. Bingley. "Whatever
Carrie wants," he warned her.
Oh, my god -
can I love him any more?
He held out his
hand. "Can I get you something? We got beer and soft drinks.
How about some coffee?"
The intimidated
woman allowed herself to be helped to the sofa. "C?coffee
would be fine."
"I'll put a
pot on right now. How about you, Carrie?"
"I think I
need a beer."
"Comin' right
up," he said as Mrs. Bingley sat down next to her daughter.
"We'll grab some dinner in a little while." He disappeared
into the kitchen.
Carrie was gazing
at her ring, thinking, Johnny, you are gonna get SO laid tonight!
when her mother broke in breathlessly.
"He's…he's
a bit forceful, isn't he?"
Carrie didn't take
her eyes off her hand. "Haven't noticed, Mom."
Catherine Bingley
caught her second wind. "Well, I hope you're happy, Carrie!
I wash my hands of you. You made your bed; you can just sleep
in it."
Carrie blushed as
she realized that she and her mother had the same thought for
different reasons.
"Oh, hush,
Mom." Knowing what would interest her mother, she added,
"Johnny's in the most prestigious law firm in Baton Rouge.
He'll make partner before you know it. Just look at this place!
You think it came cheap? I think he can afford me. Now, don't
you think my ring's pretty?"
~*~*~
In the weeks leading
up to finals, Elizabeth met with Chris Breaux and George Katz.
Like Chuck Bingley Chris had graciously accepted her apology,
while George claimed none was necessary. George assured her that
his position at the university was secure and hinted that her
retraction may have contributed to his improved situation.
Chris voiced no
complaints, as well, but was more circumspect when it came to
his roommate. After prodding from both Lizzy and Mari - who was
in attendance during his interview - he admitted he had seen
very little of his friend; William was indeed commuting from
St. Charles Parish to class more days than not. Chris had moved
to a new apartment, and Will sometimes used the sofa bed. He
was also compelled to reveal what William had declared in his
affidavit to Tulane and Alpha Iota. The girls' dismay was nothing
to what they felt after they learned his punishment. Mari held
her tongue in deference to Lizzy's feelings, but that lady felt
no such restraint.
"Give up his
honors?" Lizzy cried. "No, no, no! That's not fair!
This is all my fault!" Mari tried to console her.
Chris smiled on
her kindly. "We tried to talk Will out of falling on his
sword over this, but we might as well have been talking to a
wall. He was determined, Lizzy, and nothing was going to sway
him from this decision."
Lizzy was crying.
"He must really hate me now."
"I don't know.
He does feel really badly about this whole situation."
"Well, he's
not the only one who's suffered!" Mari's eyes flashed. "Lizzy
almost lost her scholarship."
Chris expressed
his concern, but Lizzy waved him off as she dried her eyes. "I
talked to the dean, and she allowed me to resign Jenning's class.
So I'll earn only fifteen hours this semester, instead of nineteen,
and I get to change my major."
"Really? I
though you wanted to be a journalist?"
"Not anymore.
This whole experience has left a bad taste in my mouth. I'm changing
to communications - writing and talking are what I'm good at.
That is, as long as I know what the hell I'm talking about first,
of course, instead of just shooting off my mouth." Lizzy
did not hide her bitterness.
Chris took her hand.
"Life is a series of hard lessons, Liz. It's how we deal
with them that determines our happiness." He spoke to Lizzy,
but his eyes flicked to Mari, who nodded in understanding. "What
about the VOICE?"
"I was told
they wouldn't be funded next semester, so it's gone." Lizzy
changed the subject. "I need to talk to William. Can you
help me?"
Chris was pained.
"Lizzy, I've tried, but…but I guess he's not ready
yet. He's still in a bad place. Give him time."
"I'm afraid…I'm
afraid to wait. It might take too long. It might be too late,
later."
"Too late for
what?"
Lizzy didn't answer
that question. "When does the business school graduation
start?"
"It's next
Saturday, about ten in the morning. Why?"
She reached over
for the returned letter. "Because I'm going to give him
this."
~*~*~
Lizzy woke up bright
and early that Saturday. The pervious week was Finals Week, and
both girls bore down on their studies, forsaking pleasures such
as espressos and television. The night before, Mari and Lizzy
shared a quiet meal together downtown and spent a long time talking
before returning to their room to sleep.
It was a Saturday,
and usually a casual day for Lizzy, but today she wanted to look
her best. She showered and fussed over her outfit before deciding
on a grey suit with a chartreuse shell. She thought about her
hair. Putting it up seemed too formal, while keeping it down
too casual. She compromised by fixing it in a ponytail.
"What do you
think?" she asked her sleepy roommate.
"You look like
you're going to a job interview," Mari mumbled. "What
time is it?"
"Almost 8:30.
I gotta go! Wish me luck!" She grabbed the envelope with
William's letter as she let herself out.
Mari sat up, rubbing
her eyes. Thinking it was still too early to get up, she reached
for the remote and turned on the TV. She wanted to get the local
weather, but instead of using the Weather Channel, she turned
on Channel 15's rebroadcast of last night's WWL-TV Channel 4
ten o'clock news. She snuggled into the covers as a commercial
ended.
Thirty seconds past
8:30, people outside her door could hear her scream, "NO!
NO! OH GOD, NO!!"
~*~*~
It was a fine, sunny
May morning. The temperature was already nearing eighty, but
the humidity was reasonable. Lizzy would have enjoyed the walk
to the Freeman School Graduation except for her anxiety over
what was to come.
Her plan was simple.
William was certainly going to attend his graduation, and surely
his family would be there, as well. In a way, he was a captive
audience. All that was necessary was to accost him before or
after the event and apologize, if given the opportunity, or hand
him his letter, if he would not speak to her. If allowed, she
would personally apologize to Mr. Darcy, too. Getting a ticket
to the ceremony proved to be easy - Chuck Bingley had already
invited Jane, so an extra ticket was no burden.
The only flaw in
her plan was the unpredictability of William's reaction. It was
not inconceivable that he could refuse to speak with her. Chris
assured her that he was going as Will's guest, so she put her
trust in him to prevent Will from totally dismissing her until
she at least delivered the letter. The candidates for Bachelors
and Masters degrees usually congregated in front of the hall
until the time to line up for the procession, so Lizzy thought
it best to see William before graduation. To be honest, she wasn't
sure her nerves could bear to sit through the ceremony, waiting
to deliver her message afterwards. It was not a perfect plan,
but it was the best she could come up with.
Lizzy lost a step
as she turned the corner and beheld the throng waiting outside
the auditorium. She took a deep breath, screwed up her courage
and continued onward. The candidates were in black robes and
mortarboards, with green-and-white tassels; the MBA graduates
with light brown stoles at their throats. Lizzy noticed that
some of the candidates had the white cords signifying the honors
that they had earned, and her conscience ached a bit at that,
knowing what Will had sacrificed. Still she walked closer, slowly
scanning the crowd.
She did not see
William or Chris, but she did notice Jane with a group of people.
She waved at them as she approached, hoping they would know where
Will was. She saw that Carrie was there with a tall, dark-haired
man and an older woman she took to be Mrs. Bingley. No one noticed
her, so she called out.
"Hey, everybody!
Great day for a graduation, huh?"
The shocked expressions
on their faces arrested Lizzy's progress. "Umm, you knew
I was coming, right? Did Chuck forget to tell you? What a rat!
Hi, Jane, Carrie." She stuck out her hand to the older woman.
"Hello, I'm Elizabeth Boudreaux, Jane's sister."
The woman shook
Lizzy's hand limply. "Catherine Bingley, Charles' mother."
She looked at Chuck helplessly.
A distressed Jane
leaned in. "Lizzy, didn't you hear? Don't you know what
happened?"
Lizzy realized that
both Jane and Carrie had been crying. "Jane! What's wrong?
What happened?" Jane tried to speak, but could say nothing.
A red-eyed Chuck
looked at Lizzy. "It's…it's Will…"
"Oh, my god!"
cried Lizzy as fear seized her heart. "Will? Has something
happened to Will?"
"It was all
over the news last night…Oh, Lizzy, Will's okay, but…but
his dad…"
Lizzy held her breath
as dread overcame her.
"Mr. Darcy
was killed in an automobile accident yesterday."
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