First Impressions: A Modern Pride and Prejudice Adaptation

Chapter 3

Mr. Bennet looked at his second daughter over the tops of his reading glasses. "Elizabeth, are you certain? This is a big decision, my dear. I would hate for you to—"

She shook her head. "No, Dad, I'm sure about it. I know how important this is to Mary. And I know you and Mom can always use the help. It's not like Cat and Lydia are always around for it..."

"Lizzie, it's not your responsibility to make up for your younger sisters' insipidity."

"Dad."

He raised his hands in defeat.

Liz stood up from the chair across the desk and paused, putting one hand on the back of it. "Can I tell her?"

"Of course. You're the one who's making all this" —he gestured with his pen—"possible, after all."

She beamed at her father, said, "I'll go tell Mary now," and dashed out the door.

Mr. Bennet merely shook his head and slipped his glasses back on more securely. As an only child, he could only watch the violent love and constant battles between his daughters with a sort of detached bemusement. Mrs. Bennet understood it all a little better, though never enough to referee.

Upstairs, Liz knocked gently on the slightly open door. "Mary?"

Mary was lying on her bed, flipping through a Nat Geo magazine and listening to music. When she saw Liz, she pushed her headphones off her ears and looked up. "What's up?"

"I wanted to tell you something. Can I sit down?"

"Ye-es," she said very slowly, pulling herself upright and crossing her legs. She adjusted her glasses against the bridge of her nose and placed on hand on the face of the magazine to keep her place. Liz, Mary, and Cat all needed glasses, but Liz and Cat preferred more often to wear contacts. Because two out of three of them so rarely wore their glasses out of the house, Mr. Bennet continued to justify purchasing them each essentially the same frames—somewhat wide, square-ish frames, the outsides all black, and the inner plastic a different color for every girl; pink for Cat, blue for Liz, and white for Mary.

Liz sat on the edge of the bed. "Mary, I'm going to take the year off of school."

"What?" She sat a little straighter, startled by the announcement. "Why? You love school!"

"So we can put my tuition money towards your Switzerland program."

Mary gasped, pulling her hands up to her face. The magazine flipped closed on itself. "Lizzie, no. You didn't!"

She could not help but to laugh at the look of complete shock on Mary's face—her eyes wide and round, her hands pressed to her open mouth. "I did indeed. I organized a leave of absence with the registrar."

"You would do that for me?"

"Yes. Unconditionally. I love school, but Mary this is your dream."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she cried out, throwing her arms around Liz's neck, clasping her tightly. Liz smiled and rested her cheek on Mary's shoulder, patting her on the back a couple of times.

Liz added, "Okay, I do have one stipulation."

Mary grew a little stiff in her arms and pulled back. "What's that?"

"You have to send me postcards! And texts and emails and letters and tell me what an amazing time you're having!"

Mary let out a little squeak of pleasure, unable to verbalize her joy. Liz had never seen her smile so hard or so long, save for her nine college acceptance letters. "Yes! Every day if you want!"