Pride's Prejudice (28 page)

CATACLYSM

"Misery
such as mine has no pride."

~Jane
Austen, Sense & Sensibility

Beth
sipped from her flute as she watched the couples twirling around the dance
floor, allowing the melancholy to wash over her until she was fully
submerged.  It had been kept at bay all day as she tried to enjoy the
little moments she could never have again with Jenna.  Just when she felt
she had succeeded in coming up for air, the misery would baptize her anew
whenever she looked at William.  Her feelings were such an impossible
mixture of anticipation and drudgery.  His eyes had been cemented on her
as she began the duet with Fritz,  and after the intro, she hadn't been
able to look at him at all.  For Jenna's sake, as well as the wedding
guests, she kept her eyes on Fritz.  She could feel William's gaze resting
on her until the final bars of the song, though.  No sooner had the final
strains of the song ended, than William tugged her down off the stage and into
his arms, where he held her painfully close for the next two songs.  Not
that she minded.  It made it easier to avoid his eyes and the tears that
were gathering in her own.  And she wanted to be close to him.  She
wasn't even sure it could be called a want. 
Need
was more the
proper term.

Now
Les and Jenna were dancing with their respective mother and father-in-law,
while Kara seethed in the corner for some unknown reason.  William had
persuaded Gianna to dance with him, and he was twirling her around the floor
with grand flourishes.  As Beth watched him he looked up, meeting her
eyes, and winked.  Suddenly the canopy of the banquet tent seemed to be
closing in on her, suffocating her.  Beth plunged her hand into her purse
until her fingers closed around her cell phone, and set off across the
Bradfords' spacious yard.

In the
center of the vast lawn, a stone bench with clawed legs stood next to a pond a
little way from the tent.  A stout waterfall spilled into the pond,
filling the air with hushed gurgling.  Dropping onto the bench, Beth hoped
that the sound would drown out her thoughts.

As she
flipped open her cell phone to check for messages, William came striding across
the lawn toward her.  There were no voicemails, missed calls, or
texts.  Shutting her phone she looked up at William, fabricating a smile
that she hoped would be convincing.

From
the way he looked back at her, he wasn't fooled.

"Hey,"
she forced out casually as he sat down next to her.

"Hey."

Neither
of them spoke for a minute; they just looked at the falling water in silence.

William
was the first to breech the quiet.  "Too stuffy in there for
you?"

"I
just needed to check for messages," she replied as cheerfully as possible,
gesturing to her phone.  William's gaze was unflinching, and Beth began to
feel the weight of it.

William
took her hand firmly in his, the pressure of his warm skin a comfort. 
"At least you're transferring, and you won't have to go back to Hartford
without her."

Beth
eyed William a little sadly.  Apparently, he thought her dark mood was
brought on by losing Jenna to her 'happily ever after.'  That was a part
of it.  But Beth knew she would see Jenna again - that they would always
be in each other's lives.  She couldn't say the same for William. 
Still, she was impressed by the depth of his perception.

"Am
I making you feel worse?"  His voice took on a helpless, pleading
quality.

"No. 
I just expected something more like
'it's not like you'll never see her again.'
" 
She smiled ruefully at him.

He
brushed the back of his hand over Beth's cheek, his expression
sympathetic.  His eyes continued to dig, trying to excavate the truth from
behind her sad eyes.  "What else?"

What
else?  I love you.  I want you.  I don't want to leave.
 
She looked away, her voice subdued.  "I'm leaving on Monday,
William."  That pretty much summed it up.

Beth
pictured his expression as she stared off in the other direction, intensely sad
- a mirror of her own.  When she looked back at him after a moment, she
was surprised to see a light-hearted smile on his perfect lips.

What
could possibly be
funny
right now?  Beth felt a spark of anger
flare up inside her.

He
cleared his throat, trying to wipe the amusement from his face.  "You
honestly think I'd let you go back to Wyoming after last night?" he asked
softly.

She
eyed him incredulously.  What did he mean to do, hold her hostage?

William
didn't get a chance to clarify.  Beth's phone jingled in her hand,
startling them both, and she tore her eyes from William.  "It's my
mom - I'd better get it."

"Hey,
mom."

"Bethy,
you've got to come home, right away.  It's your sister."

"I'll
be home on Monday mom, remember?  My flight comes in at six." 
She dared a glance at William.

"Lindy's
been hurt, Beth.  She's in the hospital."  Her mother's voice
rose higher as the mania set in.  "She's still unconscious, they
don't know if she's going to wake up or not.  I wish we never would have
let her go -"

Beth
turned her voice up a notch, trying to reign in her mother's hysterics. 
"MOM.  What
happened
?"

Her
mother stifled a sob before continuing.  "She went to a party last
night - with one of those college boys.  We got a call from the hospital
when they brought her in about an hour ago.  She looks so awful, Beth. 
They think she might be in a coma."

Beth
stood slowly, reeling from her mother's words.  None of it made
sense.  "Mom, what are you talking about?  What college
boy?"

William
moved to stand next to Beth now, his hand resting lightly on her elbow.  A
sick feeling twined through Beth's insides like a parasite.

"I
don't remember his name.  Jacob?  No, Jason?"

Beth
swallowed.  "Jaxon?"

William
tensed next to her, and her mother sobbed on the line.  "Yes, that's
him!  Oh, Bethy, it's so awful.  The police think he drugged her
somehow and then she tried to drive home......" she couldn't finish
through the sobs.

Jaxon…..Lindy….drugged......tried
to drive.
  Beth tried to reassure her mother, but her voice
trembled and the words sounded cheap, even to her own ears.  "Mom,
it'll be okay."  Then something occurred to her.  "Is dad
there?"  Her mother had always had a knack for exaggeration. 
"Can I talk to dad?"

While
her mother handed the phone over, Beth looked up at William.  His eyes
were black and his jaw was clenched, which somehow made him look more handsome,
if a bit dangerous.  He stepped closer to her as her father took the line.

"Dad,
what's going on?"

There
was an ominous pause.  "You need to come home, Beth.  Your
sister's condition is quite serious."

Beth
could barely speak through the tears and panic that seized her voice. 
"Are you sure mom's not -"

"Your
sister is on life support, Beth.  Two people were killed in the other
vehicle."

"I
don't understand, Dad," Beth began, unable to keep the tears out of her
eyes or her voice.

"Come
home, honey."  Her father's voice cracked on the last word, and Beth
heard his breath hitch.  "We're not sure she'll be walking away from
this."

The
phone slipped from Beth's hand as a black cloud devoured her - like someone had
flipped a switch and blown every circuit in the world, plunging her into
darkness.

~:~

William
kept a hand on Beth's back as they climbed the stairs to his apartment, just in
case she passed out again.  Gianna unlocked the front door and held it
open for Beth.  William was enormously grateful to his baby sister for
being content with a vague explanation of the situation.  All he had told
her was that Beth's sister had been in an accident and that she was in critical
condition.  The thing was, William wasn't sure who he was protecting more
by keeping it quiet - Gianna or Beth.

Once
inside, Gianna hugged Beth tenderly before saying goodnight to William and
veering toward her own room.  Beth was in the kitchen, opening and closing
cupboards lethargically as she searched for something.  William stepped
forward and filled a glass with ice water, pushing it into her hands and
watching her closely.  She pressed the cold glass to her lips and sipped
once before pulling back to stare at the glass.  Then she clamped her hand
to her mouth and dashed out of the room as fast as her bridesmaid's dress would
allow.

William
sighed for the umpteenth time since the phone call, resisting the urge to
shatter Beth's glass against the far wall.  He felt so helpless.  He
wanted to stay by her side for the rest of the night, but surely the last thing
she wanted at this moment was an audience.  After waiting several minutes,
he walked slowly to her room and knocked on the door.  When she didn't
answer, he pushed it open carefully and peered inside.  No Beth. 
Then he proceeded in toward the bathroom.

"Beth? 
You okay?" he inquired as he tapped at the door.

Her
answer was muffled.  "You can come in."

She
was bent over in front of the mirror, her elbows resting on the counter and her
face buried in a towel.

She
straightened, clearing her throat.  "Sorry."

 "Why
are you apologizing?"  He stroked her cheek with his thumb, wishing
he could brush away her anxiety.  Then her phone rang from William's
pocket, and he held it up with a question in his eyes.

Beth
took the phone with shaking hands, assuring her father that she had scheduled
the earliest possible flight home.  Unfortunately it didn't depart until
seven a.m. the following morning, but short of renting a private jet it was the
best they could do.  And William had tried that.  They couldn't get
anything on such short notice.

After
pledging to her father that she would get to the airport on time, Beth ended
the call and tossed her phone onto the bed.  "Can you unzip me?"
she asked in a strained voice.

She
probably wanted to be alone, and William had some anger to vent anyway. 
Dutifully, he stepped to her, unzipped her dress, and then quietly left the
room.

~:~

After
William had gone, Beth shed her bridesmaid's dress and hung it carefully in the
closet.  Then she took a hot shower, letting the steaming water mingle
with her tears until she couldn't tell them apart anymore.  At one point,
she actually sat down on the tile and sobbed.  It had finally
happened.  Lindy's unguarded behavior had finally gotten the best of her,
just as Beth had warned her again and again that it would.  Unfortunately,
misery was bereft of pride and being right in this instance was no
consolation.  When her head began throbbing and the water ran luke-warm,
Beth turned off the shower, dried, and pulled on a cami and PJ pants. 
After towel drying her hair for a moment, she sat on the edge of the bed. 
William hadn't come back to check on her, and he probably wouldn't.  No
doubt he'd gleaned enough of the conversation to complete the puzzle.  No
doubt, hearing that Jaxon had repeated his past offenses would tear open his
old wounds.  She wouldn't be seeing him again tonight.

Feeling
disconnected from her actions, as though someone else was in her body, Beth
turned off the light and lay down atop the flannel on William's bed.  Beth
was too worn out to feel anything, not to mention dehydrated from throwing up
and all the crying.  As if defying her thoughts, a single tear escaped
down her cheek as she balled up on her side and closed her eyes.

Several
sleepless minutes later, the bedroom door cracked open and William stood
looking in.  He approached her bedside and looked down at her.  She
was torn between a desire to see his eyes and dread at what she would find
there.  Gently, he pulled the corner of his blanket around her from
behind, making her into a flannel burrito.  William straightened and
turned for the door, but Beth caught his arm and towed him down to lie next to
her.  Obediently, William opened his arms and she burrowed into them,
letting the tears flow fast and hot.  The riotous ocean of her pain
suddenly felt less crushing with William's arms locked around her like a life
preserver - one she'd rather drown in than take off.  Eventually, the
tears stopped and Beth drifted off to sleep with William's hands in her hair.

VINDICATION

"…..our
pleasures in this world are always to be paid for…."

~Jane
Austen, Pride & Prejudice

Beth
gazed out the window dejectedly as William sped toward the John F. Kennedy International
Airport, both his hands locked on the steering wheel.  He hadn't said much
this morning, and Beth felt the grey light of early dawn pressing in on her
like static.  Inside the wall of resignation she'd carefully constructed
around herself this morning, a spring of hope bubbled and frothed.  If
only things could be different.  If only Lindy's accident could have been
prevented.  If only she wasn't leaving the one person she wanted to stay
with more than anyone else.  If only that person weren't acting like he
couldn't wait to be rid of her.  If only, if only…..

William
hadn't spoken to her at all as she lay in his arms last night.  He'd
indulged her by staying with her, but obviously he hadn't wanted to upset
her.  There was no doubt that he cared, but she couldn't expect that
regard to overcome the ugly truth of Lindy and Jaxon.

When
they breached the airport barriers, Beth noted vaguely that they were headed
for the parking lot instead of the drop off lane.  Apparently, he wanted
to be thorough in the discharge of his responsibility.  But after pulling
her duffle out of the trunk, William retrieved a rolling suitcase, setting it
on the ground and pulling out the handle.  She raised her eyebrows,
nodding toward his suitcase.

"I'm
leaving town on business," he offered.  "My flight leaves in a
couple hours - I didn't want to come back."

Beth
scowled.  "Why didn't you say anything?"

He
refused to meet her eyes.  Now he couldn't even look at her?

"Something's
just come up that I need to take care of.  Hopefully I'll only be gone a
few days."

When
he offered no other intelligence on the mysterious business trip, Beth just
nodded.

"I'll
walk you," William offered, falling into step beside her.

The
old Beth would have put on a show of bravado, and said something about being
able to find it herself.  But the naked truth was that she wanted every
last second with him - even if he didn't feel the same.

William
glowered at the huge airport windows as they walked, distracted.  After
checking in, Beth went to the waiting area and took a seat next to William,
whose face was turned away, looking out at the runway.  When Beth's row
was called to board and she stood, he came out of whatever trance had claimed
him, looking around like he'd forgotten where he was.  He bolted up after
her like he'd lost track of time.  Planting a hasty kiss on her forehead,
he said, "I'll see you later."  Then he turned and set off for
his own gate.

Beth
felt like her heart had been dropped off a skyscraper and splattered violently
against the concrete. 
See you later?
  What kind of goodbye
was that? 

Beth
took a seat on the plane, buckling the seatbelt and leaning her head against
the window.  Fatigue from the wedding, reception, and consequent events
finally set into Beth's limbs, and she fell asleep shortly after
take-off.  The landing didn't seem to upset her the way it had before, for
which she was grateful.  She was also thankful that she'd parked her truck
at the airport and didn't need to wait for anyone to pick her up (or talk to them
after they did).  Even though William's parting words had left her feeling
unsettled about the whole thing, she was glad she'd gone to New York.  On
the drive to the hospital she relived her favorite moments from the
weekend:  the way it felt to fall asleep in William's arms last night; the
look in his eyes as he watched her progress up the aisle; his head on her knees
as he begged her forgiveness; the feel of his tentative touch in the
dark.  When the memories ceased to be pleasant musings and began stinging,
Beth dismissed the recollections.

As she
stepped off the fourth floor elevator and made her way to the ICU, an ominous
cloud seemed to be pressing down on her.  The hospital's sanitized walls
and polished-to-perfection floors made her feel closed in, and the air tasted
like decay.  The eerie shade of white made her feel as though she were
trespassing in the realm of the dead.

Rounding 
the corner to the ICU, the first thing to greet Beth were her mother's stifled
sobs.  Her father looked on helplessly as he half-heartedly rubbed his
wife's back.  She had never seen her father look so unsettled. 
Usually any catastrophe could be tamed by a good literary conquest, but now she
sensed that, for the first time ever, he felt the effects of his erroneous parenting.

"Bethy?"

"Hi,
Mom.  It's okay, I'm here."  Beth stepped to her parents and
they pulled her into a triangular embrace.  Beth had to pry her mother's
hands away to extricate herself after several minutes.

"How's
Lindy?"

"She's
awake!" her mother sniffed.  "The police are taking a statement
from her right now, so we stepped out for a minute."

"What
about -?"  She couldn't bring herself to say
his
name. 
"Has anyone found him yet?"

"Not
yet, Beth," her father answered somberly.  "They've been looking
all night and day."  He paused, subdued.  "They found
traces of GHB in Lindy's blood sample from the scene of the accident.  A
neighbor had called the police to break up the party, and they think Jaxon left
in a hurry, before he could-" An involuntary sob escaped her father, and
compassion unfurled within Beth.  She curled her arms around her father's
neck.  "It's not your fault, Dad.  Lindy is so careless……"

Her
father straightened, mopping his cheeks with a handkerchief and gripping her
shoulder with his aging hands.

"At
least she's awake now, right?" Beth offered hopefully.  "When
does she get to come home?"

Beth's
parents looked at one another reflexively.  "She'll probably be here
for at least a few days, Beth," her mother began.  "They just
had to give her a blood transfusion, and she's still on oxygen."

Beth
swallowed, trying to drown the rising bile in her throat.  Of course she
knew what someone who had been in a terrible car crash would look like:
 oxygen tubes, IVs, cuts and scrapes.....she didn't want to see Lindy that
way.  Still, she asked "Can I see her?"

"I'll
check with the nurse, honey," her father answered, patting her arm and
turning to search for the hospital staff.

Beth's
breath caught in her chest when she entered Lindy's room a few minutes
later.  There were numerous scratches and scrapes on her face, the worst
of them - the one across her right cheek - sealed with a neat row of
stitches.  Her eyes were swollen and purple, her wild hair was matted
around her battered face, and there was blood in her hairline.  Beth was
glad the only skin showing was above her neck; she couldn't imagine what the
rest of her body looked like.

"Bethy?"

Lindy's
eyes were all but swollen shut.  Putting a hand gingerly to Lindy's head,
Beth smiled down at her, trying to keep the revolted look out of her
eyes.  Trying not to cry.

"Hey,
beautiful."

Lindy
just looked up at her sister.

"You
know you don't need all that makeup, right?"

A
slight curve of her mouth - an attempt to smile.

Beth
looked at her wounded sister in silence, feeling sorry for all the times she
had lectured her, but wishing Lindy had listened at the same time.

"Told
me so?"  Lindy slurred.

Beth
felt heat and shame color her face.  "Not this time, sis."

Lindy's
eyes closed, and Beth bit her lip, willing the tears to stay behind her
eyes.  "Can I get you anything, Lind?  A drink or
something?"

"Stay."

Lindy's
simple request made Beth's chest tighten painfully.  Lindy had her issues,
but Beth had numerous faults of her own - one of them taking her sister for
granted.  Now, seeing her twisted up in starched white sheets, tubes
winding around her neck and arms, the portentous whir of machines pumping pain
medication into her bloodstream, it was clear to Beth.  The connections we
share in this life are fragile - wispy spider webs, easily swept aside with the
crass bristles of circumstance.  She lowered the guard rail of Lindy's bed
and carefully laid down next to her, bending one arm behind her head and
smoothing Lindy's hair with her other hand.  Her fingers tingled
unpleasantly as she touched her sister's discolored skin.

Lindy's
eyes closed, and Beth guessed it wouldn't be long before she slipped back into
unconsciousness.  "Wedding?"

"Jenna's
wedding?"  Beth clarified.

"Mmm-hmm....."

It
seemed ludicrous to Beth that Lindy would want to know about the wedding, but
she welcomed the distraction.  Starting with her surprise escort from the
airport, Beth began the tale and took her through to the exit scene.  She
hadn't seen it that way until this moment - a full circle, beginning and ending
in the same place.  Beth gave Lindy an unabridged version of the story,
sensing that her sister had fallen asleep about halfway through.  She kept
talking anyway, needing to relive the experience for herself.  A profound
sadness wrapped her in its heavy arms when she described parting from William
at the airport.  It had been like hearing two strips of Velcro being torn
apart. 
See you later.
  Beth closed her eyes and let the tears
come freely - for Lindy, and in a way, for Gianna again - but mostly for her
own emptiness.  Soon after, the combination of emotional exhaustion and
jet lag whisked her off to join Lindy in restful oblivion.

A
couple hours later, Beth started awake to a persistent beeping sound.  The
room was black as pitch except for the beady neon eyes that peered through the
dark at her - indicator lights from the many machines plugged into Lindy. 
If Beth hadn't known she was in Lindy's hospital room, she would've thought she
was trapped in a cave full of vicious, psychedelic bats.

Lindy
stirred and moaned something unintelligible.

"What
is it, Lind?"

Lindy
whimpered, which Beth took to mean she was ready for more pain meds.

"I'll
get the nurse."

"Button."

"It's
okay, I need to stretch.  I'll be back."  Trying not to jostle
Lindy, Beth stood gingerly and felt her way out of the room.

When
she opened the heavy wooden door, the blatant hall lights assaulted her eyes
for an instant, burning blue spots into her retinas.  After notifying the
nurse's station that Lindy was hurting, she began to search out her
parents.  She wandered down the hall and veered into a lounge, where she
found them talking with a police officer.

"Bethy
- they think they found him!  Did you say you knew Jaxon at
Hartford?"

Beth
cringed internally at the sound of his name.  "Yeah."

The
officer piped up.  "I'm Officer Al MacAfee, ma'am.  Do you think
you could identify this Jaxon in a line-up?"

Beth's
eyes widened, but she said nothing.  Of course she could pick him
out.  She'd been obsessed with his face at one time, though the thought
made her sick.

"We
broke up a fight in a bar and made several arrest....they all denied any
involvement in last night's incident, but we're holding them until we can be
sure."

"Yes,
I could pick him out."

"Would
you mind coming down to the station with me?"

Beth
nodded, hugged her parents, and refused her father's offer to accompany
her.  Being cooped up with his wife for so many hours, with her nerves in
such a tattered condition, couldn't be easy for him.  And Beth suspected
that, taking recent events under consideration, he was none too eager to let
his favorite daughter drive off with a man he didn't know.

After
assuring her parents that she'd return as soon as possible, she followed
officer MacAfee to his patrol car.  Beth didn't feel like talking, and
whether the officer sensed this, or simply didn't make a habit of chatting with
potential witnesses, she was glad.  As the police car blurred through her
hometown of Meryton, Beth found herself reliving the most precious Williamless
moments from the weekend:  making crepes with Gianna and realizing how
much she liked her; singing with Fritz; Jenna sparkling on the morning of her
wedding like an angel.  Though she tried, she couldn't dissect William
from any of it.  He was just as omnipresent now as he'd always been. 
Fresh tears distorted Beth's vision and she blinked them hastily back as
Officer MacAfee announced that they'd arrived.  She absolutely needed
clear eyes right now.

Beth
followed Officer McAfee into a dimly-lit room with a panoramic window set into
the wall.

"This
is one-way glass.  You can see in but they can't see out."

Beth
nodded, feeling eager and a little…..disappointed.  She would love to see
Jaxon's reaction to her presence; would relish watching him cast his eyes
downward, shamefaced.  A face-to-face meeting would've been even better,
so she could slap him.