First Impressions: A Modern Pride and Prejudice Adaptation

Chapter 40

Cat was waiting for them on the driveway. Her long hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail that sprung against her shoulders as she bounced up and down on her toes. Her shirt was too big—or maybe it was just fashionably—and one shoulder had slipped down her arm, revealing the black strap of a bra and the ghosts of freckles over her shoulders. She was reaching out before Liz even stepped all the way out of the car. "Oh my God, oh my God, Lizzie!"

"What?" she asked sharply, her nerves already strung tight and tingling. The car door slammed behind her and Jane was at her shoulder in seconds.

"They're repossessing his car!"

"What?" Liz repeated, incredulity replacing the annoyance.

"Yeah! Right now! He hasn't paid the loan on it. He kept deferring it and then apparently, they gave him notice but he just... fled the state, I guess. He drove all the way to Vegas."

"Who told you that?"

"Colonel Forester!"

"He told you that?" she asked sharply, her eyes trained closely on her sister's face.

Cat twisted her hands. "Well, I don't think he meant to, but he called Dad, and Dad's phone was on speaker and he didn't, like, turn it off. He just told me to shut up. So, I did and then I was just driving while he was talking and..."

"Lord," Jane murmured, her voice fain and faltering.

Liz grabbed Cat by the elbow. "Come on. Let's go inside and you can tell us what's been happening." She began to steer her up the front steps of the house. Cat stumbled slightly; despite somewhat her longer legs, she was nowhere near as fast nor determined as Liz.

Jane pulled the door open ahead of them, flitting inside.

"Mom?" Liz and Jane called out almost in the same instance, Jane in the house, Liz just passing through the doorway.

"She's not going to answer," Cat muttered, closing the door behind them with a slam.

Jane rounded on her. "What? Why not? What's wrong?"

"She hasn't come out of her room since we found out."

Liz was not exactly surprised to hear it, but the news still perturbed her slightly. The house was too quiet without Mrs. Bennet's prying inquiries about her trip or Lydia's prattling about everything she thought she had missed. The walk from the front door to the kitchen felt interminable, as if the hallway had somehow lengthened in her time away from home.

She fell into one of the chairs, laying her forearms on the table before her. She stared her hands. It was not often that she dwelled on the skills she did not have. In general, she rated her talents without much pretense and knew when she was accomplished and when she was not. But now was one of those times. She wanted to cook. It seemed the right thing to do in that instance; she could busy her hands and her mind, produce something warm and comforting and reassuring. Somehow, macaroni and cheese from a box did not seem the right thing to fulfill that need.

Her shoulders felt heavy as they slumped forward, rounding her posture. She watched from under that weight as Jane flitted around the kitchen, boiling water for tea. "It just seemed the thing to do," she offered as excuse and apology as she brought mugs to the table.

Cat took the offered cup and set it before her on the table. She proceeded to turn it by the handle, twisting it several times in a circle, never raising her eyes from its rotation.

Liz and Jane shared a glance. Liz leaned forward and said slightly louder than usual, "So. Tell us exactly what happened. Don't leave anything out."