Curtis Sittenfeld - Eligible

If Darcy goes for you —were Darcy and Caroline not a couple? Because if they were, then this display was even more unhinged than if they weren’t. I’m sure you’ve heard from my brother about him and Caroline, Liz thought, and the revelation of her own foolishness was like a clap of thunder in her brain. Upon receiving that text from Georgie, she had, of course, wondered, Heard what? But she’d quickly gone from wondering to suspecting that she knew to being certain. Never would she have leapt to a conclusion this way when writing an article, never would she have allowed a fact to be alluded to without clarification. Trust but verify — that’s what she’d have done. Yet not once in the past three months had she even attempted verification. How sloppily, and with what slim evidence, she had embraced the disappointment of her own desires. Why on earth had she been so ready for, so complicit in, the denial of what she most wanted?

“But if Darcy goes for you,” Liz said slowly to Caroline, “would that be a more suitable match? No one would be embarrassing themselves?”

“Listen,” Caroline said. “It’s not a secret that your dad bankrupted your family. Your mom and your sisters are idiots, and now you have a tranny brother-in-law. You’re not girlfriend material for Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

“Let me see if I understand. Your brother is a reality-TV star, which you set in motion. But my family is too tacky for Darcy?”

“The TV stuff is business. Eligible has just been a way of establishing Chip’s brand and setting him up for his own projects.”

“In your defense,” Liz said, “I can tell that you believe what you’re saying, even if it’s completely illogical. But either way, Darcy is a grown man who makes his own decisions.”

Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “Are you guys already together?”

Liz laughed. “How could we be when it would be such a breach of propriety? It would almost be worse than wearing linen after Labor Day. Maybe as bad as using a salad fork for your main course.”

“You find yourself very clever,” Caroline said. “We all know that about you.”

“I’m going to bed now,” Liz said. “Good night, Caroline.” But Liz had taken only a few steps toward the elevators when she turned back. “By the way,” she said, “we’re delighted to have Ham join our family, and no one uses the word tranny anymore. Or at least no one with good breeding does.”

It was inside the elevator, during the short ride up to the third floor, that Liz remembered that she had been mic’d for the entire conversation.

IN THE HOTEL room, Liz grabbed her cellphone from the bureau where she’d left it before the rehearsal dinner and searched frantically for the text from Georgie. After rereading it ( I’m sure you’ve heard from my brother about him and Caroline and now I feel very awkward about the conversation you and I had. I really wish I’d bitten my tongue ), Liz typed hastily.

Georgie so sorry I never responded to this. It was great to meet u too. I know this is random but what did u mean when u said u were sure I’d heard from your brother about him & Caroline?

During the next ten minutes, Liz was so addled and impatient that she began doing jumping jacks to distract herself; after a few, as a courtesy to whoever was staying in the room under hers, she switched to sit-ups. Although she hadn’t smoked in years, she was considering trying to find a cigarette when, at last, Georgie’s response arrived: I meant the car accident. Your Kathy de Bourgh article was awesome! I knew it would be.

What car accident? Liz replied. Thanks about article!

Georgie’s subsequent response came in three separate bubbles.

Not sure how much you already know, the first one read, but coming back from hike that day, another driver hit my brother’s car in foothills and Caroline’s collarbone fractured.

The second text read, It wasn’t Fitzy’s fault but he felt responsible since he was driving. Caroline NOT happy the rest of the weekend. I think she is better by now!

The third text read, You’re all at Chip and your sister’s wedding, right? So funny to think Fitzy will be on eligible. I told him to get a selfie w/ Rick Price. He will probably “forget” so pls remind him!

Did the fact of Caroline having sustained an injury mean, Liz wondered, that she herself ought to feel more compassion and less loathing for the other woman?

Just to confirm, Liz wrote, your brother & Caroline aren’t a couple now & haven’t been since we were all in Atherton?

Nope! Georgie responded.

This, Liz decided, was the reason she shouldn’t loathe Caroline: not because she wasn’t loathsome but because she wasn’t Darcy’s. And then Liz understood with an abrupt urgency what she needed to tell Darcy and — even more important — what she needed to ask him. Indeed, the urgency was so great that she considered texting him immediately, or just figuring out which room he was staying in and knocking on the door. But surely such a conversation ought not to be initiated impulsively.

Thanks Georgie, she wrote. I’ll see what I can do to get a pic of Rick & your brother.

THOUGH CHIP’S TEARS during the exchange of vows weren’t a surprise, their duration and magnitude was a spectacle unlike any Liz had ever witnessed. They began the moment Jane appeared, following the procession of her sisters and soon-to-be sisters-in-law: She was resplendent in an ivory silk organza gown; her blond hair was pulled into a loose chignon; she wore a tulle veil delicately dotted with freshwater pearls; and she carried a bouquet of white roses. On her feet were gold satin peep-toe pumps whose heels, Liz thought with some consternation, hadn’t been designed to support someone in Jane’s current condition, though it was undeniable that they contributed to an overall presentation of exquisite and even magical beauty; Jane resembled nothing so much as a pregnant angel.

She was accompanied down the aisle by Mr. Bennet, in a new tuxedo. In his suitcase, he had brought to California the Brooks Brothers one he’d acquired in 1968 as the Cincinnati Bachelors Cotillion escort of a debutante named Peggy Isborne, and inducements from various young and attractive members of Eligible ’s wardrobe department had been required to convince him that he’d be even more dashing were his formal wear updated. The bridesmaids wore lavender chiffon dresses with plum-colored sashes, and though Liz remained generally wary of Eligible, she appreciated that the wardrobe department had chosen different cuts of the dress to most flatter each woman’s body; hers was sleeveless, with a V-neck and a knee-length skirt.

The ceremony occurred in the courtyard; during the night, rather miraculously, the pool had been overlaid with a clear acrylic cover on which rested the guests’ chairs, divided into two clusters to create the aisle. At the pool’s far end stood a wooden altar off which hung yards of gauzy white fabric adorned with freshwater pearls in a pattern that echoed Jane’s veil, and around which coiled white roses that echoed Jane’s bouquet. Six camera crews were present, one of whom was responsible for the large jib camera on a crane. Also on a crane was a thin rectangular lighting panel that measured perhaps six by ten feet. The officiant was Rick Price.

From his first sighting of Jane, Chip’s face crumpled; and the subsequent gush from his eyes would surely have been sufficient to bathe a medium-sized dog: a corgi or, perhaps, a border collie. As maid of honor, Liz stood just behind Jane and had the best view of anyone of the storm twisting Chip’s features. When Jane and Mr. Bennet had made their way down the aisle, Mr. Bennet had lifted her veil, kissed her on the cheek, then taken her right hand and held it out for Chip to grasp with his own. (If only, Liz thought as this sequence then occurred twice more for the cameras, she were a person who could see the tradition as charming rather than queasily patriarchal.) As Mr. Bennet sat, Chip squeaked out to Jane the words “You’re so beaut—” but was unable to finish, interrupted by a fresh torrent of emotion. Jane set her hand on his upper arm, patting gently, and though Liz could not see her sister’s expression, she felt confident it was one of enormous affection.