Lizzy's POV
Today was not the day to have this conversation again, nonetheless, here I was, on the phone with my mom while she ranted about my singleness.
"Lizzy, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must want a wife."
"Mom, I've told you before and I'm telling you again, I have high standards. Most rich guys probably are not looking for wives at the same time, you are sometimes, literally, shoving us at them. Men have their own minds and opinions. If we were to meet the occasional man with money, lots of them are stuck-up jerks and don't fit what I have been praying for my future husband to be."
I listened for a few more moments to the phone, then I couldn't believe what she said.
"You have driven by his house how many times?"
"Nineteen."
I shook my head against my phone, "Mom, that is worse stalking than what I do!"
"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, I'm just a concerned mother of five daughters. None of whom are married, might I add."
"But-"
"Lizzy, you know there are going to be lots of guys at the gala tonight. Hopefully, you can find a man to marry. I mean you should be married already! You are twenty-seven years old! You must try to get guys with money or at least good jobs! At this point, I just want you married."
I glanced around the room and realized I needed to go.
"Hey mom, please stop your ranting. We can revisit the conversation for the umpteenth time later. I've got to get ready for tonight. See you later. Love you, bye."
I waited for her to say "love you too" then hung up the phone.
Mom, men are not our property, no matter what you think.
I looked around at the chaos unfolding in Jane, Charlotte and I's living room. All four of my sisters were stuffed into the room getting ready for the annual charity gala tonight held by the Richards family at our local convention center. The proceeds from the gala go to poor African villages, but the main reason for the excitement was because of the new guy in town, not because we are helping out people in third-world countries.
"Girls," I called, "mom has driven by Charles Bingley's house nineteen times."
"It was seventeen when we left the house earlier." My younger sister Katie said, "She is so obsessed with him. When I showed her all the links you sent me about him, she went crazy."
I stared at her in horror, "Katie! That was just supposed to be for you, Lydia and Mary."
She shrugged her shoulders, "Did you really think I would keep it between us? Half the reason why I asked you to look him up was so I could tell mom. She was nagging me asking for more information on him.''
Two of my younger sisters, Katie and Lydia, had texted me so many times begging me to look up Charles Bingley, so I had to do it to get them off my back. I'm usually the one that ends up finding info out about people online. The two of them would rather I work for the FBI because of my online research skills than have my current jobs that I love, being a history instructor at the local college and a business partner with my twin sister Jane in our interior design and event planning business. Sure I do have good capabilities to do online research, but it is best to get to know whoever you are looking up in person. Not everyone matches the information that is online about them.
I continued to question Katie, "Mom obviously knows that his name is Charles Bingley, and where he is living in Merytown. What else did you show her? Please tell me that you didn't show her the links that contain the information saying that he is a Harvard graduate, rich, charitable, and lives in New York City."
I read her facial expression quickly, "You did." She nodded, "Did you tell her that the only thing I haven't been able to find out is if he is a Christian?"
"I think I mentioned it. According to mom, he is a dream come true for one of us." Katie continued to put her eyeshadow on, then paused and twirled the brush around, "Oh, have I mentioned dad surprised us a lot by saying that he had met him? He hasn't given us any details though. Each of us girls at the house has tried to ask questions about Charles but dad still won't reveal anything. It has been driving mom crazy! I'm surprised she didn't call and ask you to try and get info out of dad cause you are his favorite."
I nodded my head, things starting to make sense now, "Yes, she did call me many, many times to see if I would ask dad about Charles, but I had no idea what she was talking about. She didn't even explain what she wanted me to ask dad, instead, she got frustrated and started complaining about her 'poor nerves."
Mary looked up from doing her makeup, ''That sounds like our mom.''
"She thinks one of us should grab him. Mom is hooked on him." My youngest sister, Lydia, said with her normal sassy voice.
"Lydia we all know that. Is it not obvious?" I walked over to where Lydia was sitting on her phone, my dress swishing as I moved. I picked up the hot wand and twisted some of my brown shoulder-length hair around the barrel to curl a section I had missed earlier, then looked at my youngest sister. "You do realize that we are supposed to be leaving in fifteen minutes right?"
Half of her hair was uncurled while the other half had been curled and heavily hair-sprayed. She slowly set her phone down on her lap and looked up at me with tears in her eyes.
Woah. Those hadn't been there five seconds ago.
In a small voice, Lydia said, "Grant just broke up with me. He said that I wasn't mature enough."
I pulled the wand out of my hair and put it in Lydia's outstretched hand. I glanced at my twin sister, Jane, who is a smart blonde. We think alike on some things and this was one of them.
Of course, Lydia was immature, but she would throw a fit if I said that.
"How long have y'all been dating?" I asked.
Lydia sniffled out, "Tomorrow would have been two weeks."
Mhm.
Knowing Lydia, it wouldn't be worth it to comfort her because she would be over him by tonight. Nor would she even listen to me given my history with guys.
Lydia despairs of me when it comes to dating. The only reason I would go out with a person a second or third time is if I thought I could marry him. It's old-fashioned to think that, but I don't want to be the girl that has been with everybody. I want to be special because I will not be with just anybody. Lydia and Katie, Lydia especially, on the other hand, go through guys super-fast.
Thankfully, Jane helped me out, "Well Lydia, I think that you are okay without him, even if it takes you a couple of weeks. We will be at the charity gala tonight, and Charles will be there! Maybe you and he can hit it off."
"Maybe," Lydia conceded as she batted away some tears and I sprayed my hair. "I hope he is as hot as his pictures." She raised her voice so all four of us could hear her. "Girls, I think he will go for me if he has any sense at all. Assuming that he is hot. If he makes the stupid mistake of liking one of you though, I will not sabotage it." She delicately lifted her shoulder and smiled, then turned back to finish primping. All thoughts of the newest guy, Grant forgot.
Once again, she proves it is hard to believe we were raised under the same roof. Granted she is mom's little princess, even though she is 21 now.
"Are we ready for pictures?" Jane asked, "After all, we all look amazing."
That was true, all of us did look amazing. Of course, I would have liked to have changed Katie and Lydia's dresses for the evening to make them not quite so exposed, but, oh well.
Mary's dark brown eyes were framed by her black glasses which showed off splendidly with her black knee-length dress.
Jane's dress was a stunning royal blue lace that brought out her blue eyes. Its neckline was a wide v that extended to the edge of the shoulders. The dress was gathered at the waist and then flowed down to the floor. Almost anything looks good on Jane, she should be a model besides helping to run our event planning/design business.
I had on a maxi dress that was light pink satin on the bottom part, but above my waist, it had delicate champagne sequins. One of my favorite things about the dress is that it has pockets. The champagne sequins came up to my neck and went around it in a halterneck style, leaving most of my shoulders bare.
Most of my scar was covered up by my shoulder-length brown hair, but not all of it, especially if I turned my head a certain way. I was okay with it being exposed now.
At the very least, it was a conversation starter. Except, most people don't feel comfortable asking someone about a scar on first acquaintance.