Page 14 of Ardently Yours

First, he pretends to be my fake boyfriend to help me save face in front of Billie. Then, he doesn’t want to continue pretending with me. Now, he says I’m not his type.

My stomach lurches. Am I self-conscious about this? I don’t know why I feel this way.

I don’t even like him like that. But to hear him say that I’m not his type feels like he is saying he can never like me, like I’m not good enough for him. And how can I not be good enough for him?

That feeling in my stomach turns to irritation. Will works for me. In my cafe. In my town. I am his boss.

I am literally a boss lady. I am such a catch. I roll my eyes.

But if I’m being fair, Will isn’t my type either. Besides the fact that we work together, we are friends, and I don’t want to make it weird. I know it was a mistake to bring him into this.

“Make better choices, Lizzie,” I say to myself. I type something to send to Wickham, feeling more determined to show Will that I am the right girl for someone.

I shove that thought away and push through the door, giving Will and Wolfsheim death glares when they turn to look at me.

“By the way, I am a fantastic catch. The right type for the right one. And I don’t need help to find a man. Thank you very much.”

I hit send on my text to Wickham and strut away from them. I walk around my cafe, greeting guests with a smile and a boost of self-confidence.

***

The three of us Bennett girls, who are unmarried, live next door to our parents in a cozy three-bedroom house. Our house is modest and a little shabby. Our parents’ house is bigger and looks more like a house you’d see in a magazine.

Our house is more like a cottage. But they bought it for us so we don’t have to worry about paying rent or a mortgage, which allows us more time to focus on other things.

For me, I saved up during college for my cafe. With a mix of savings, a business degree, and a small business grant, I’m able to live my dream.

I watch the sunset from my seat by the window of my parents’ house and think about the cafe. My sisters and I walked over after I got off work today. My thoughts always drift to the cafe, even when I’m not there.

Here, Mama is still in the kitchen, cooking. Papa is on the couch in the living room watching TV with a book in his hand. He pretends to read, but really is sneaking peeks at the screen to watch whatever reality show he’s into at the moment. Janet and her husband, Charlie, are in the living room with Papa. Janet, who is in her early thirties, is currently the only married Bennet sister.

Mary and Kitty are with their boyfriends and Lydia’s boyfriend in the backyard. They sit around the firepit with pre-dinner snacks, which drives Mama crazy.

Mary, Kitty, and Lydia are each a year apart in age, ranging from their late teens to their early twenties, and attend Selah Falls University as commuter students.

Each of them has a new boyfriend every so often. This time, they each brought someone home from the university’s football team. I can’t remember either of their names. I won’t even try to learn them because they probably won’t last that long.

Lydia isn’t outside with the others, so naturally that means she is bothering me. She’d call it keeping me company. I, on the other hand, do not call it that.

I’m lounging on my favorite window seat. The fluffy pillows on the nook had pillow covers that Mama changed to match the season. Now, they had summer quotes and flowers on them.

My phone buzzes. I block out Lydia’s voice. She’s ranting about how hungry she is and how Mama needs to hurry up and let us make our plates so we can eat. I discreetly pick my phone up from beside me on the nook seat and check the screen.

George: You’re on Longbourn Street, right?

Me: Yeah, at my parents’ house. Sitting by the window so I’ll see you when you pull up.

George: I’ll be leaving the station soon. Can’t wait to see you :)

I smile down at my phone. I give his message a heart when Lydia asks, “Are you even listening to me, Liz?”

“Nope,” I say gleefully, smiling up at her as she smacks my leg.

She has boxer’s hands for someone who weighs less than me. I swing to hit her back, but she is too quick and jumps out of the way, laughing. I make a mental note to get her back later. For now, I put my phone away and glare at her.

I ask her, “What do you want?”

“Don’t give me attitude! Who were you texting just now?”