My Own Mr. Darcy (11 page)

“You’re pretty spirited, aren’t
you Elizabeth.”

“You think so?” No one had
ever called me spirited before.

“I’ve never met anyone
quite like you. You’re sweet and cute but if anyone crosses you, they’d better
run for their lives.” Sweet and cute. Not exactly the words I’d have liked him
to say, but sweet and cute was better than sour and ugly.

“I guess you’d better not
cross me,” I said.

“Oh, Elizabeth. I have no
desire to cross you.” Matt took a bite of my sticky bun and smiled. I felt like
I was at Pemberley, watching Mr. Darcy smile for the first time.

It was almost midnight and
my car looked lonely and forgotten when we reached the bank parking lot. Matt walked
me to my car.

“What are you doing tomorrow
night?” He took my hand and moved his thumb back and forth across my knuckles. I
turned my hand in his and linked our fingers. I was holding hands with the
closest thing to Mr. Darcy I’d ever met. That realization made it difficult to
remember what I was doing tomorrow night. I looked at my hand and tried to concentrate.
When I finally remembered, my heart sank.

“I’m going to a high
school swim meet,” I said, wondering why he’d asked.

“I see. Sounds dreary.”
Matt leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

He got back in his car and
was gone before I’d even unlocked my door.

I DROVE STRAIGHT
from work
to Mt. Hood High School. Mt. Hood was one of the few schools with an on-campus
swimming pool. The bleachers were small—only three rows high. I was glad I was
early so I could choose a seat at the end. The air was heavy and wet and
smelled of chlorine.

“Hi Lizzie. Did you pay? I
was going to get you in for free.”

“Don’t worry about it. It
was only three dollars.”

“I’m glad you could come.”
Chad sat down on the bench beside me and handed me a sheet of paper printed
with the team roster. “Just in case you want to know who’s swimming,” he said.
“Watch this kid.” He pointed at the name Carter Stevens. “He came in second at
state last year. He’s probably going to swim for the Oregon Ducks next year.
And this boy here, Taylor Kennedy, he’s never been on a competitive team
before. I came in during my free class one day and his PE class was swimming.
He’s only a sophomore but I was impressed with how strong and fast he was. I
talked him into joining the team. This is his first meet. I think I might be as
nervous as he is.”

“How long have you been
coaching?”

“This is my second year.”

“Woo, Coach Keller, what’s
your girlfriend’s name?”  Two swimmers in tight, navy blue suits that went from
their waists to their knees walked past. I wasn’t sure if it was the girlfriend
reference or their swimsuits that made me blush.

“I’d tell you if I thought
it would help you swim better,” Chad said. “Go warm up. I’ll be there in a
minute.”

“There are a lot of
banners hanging in here,” I said. I hoped he’d look at the banners and not my hot
cheeks. Of course, he was looking at me.

“I know. Mt. Hood has a
good program. They’ve taken state six of the last ten years.”

“I’m impressed. You must
be a good coach.”

“Oh, I wasn’t the coach
when they took state,” Chad said.

“I know, but they hired
you to take over their winning program. They must have a lot of confidence in
you.”

“I don’t know about that.
There are some great kids here.”

“You’re just being
modest,” I said.

Chad patted my knee and started
toward the team at the far end of the pool. He stopped and then turned around.
“Don’t leave after the meet. I thought we could go get hamburgers and shakes.”

Hamburgers and shakes! The
thought of sinking my teeth into a juicy hamburger made my mouth water. How did
he know I was starved for some beef?

The swim meet was more fun
than I expected. I watched Chad as he put his hands on the boys’ shoulders
before they took their starting positions. He looked positive and encouraging. Carter
Stevens took first in his race by half a pool length. In Taylor Kennedy’s first
race, he had a rough start and came in fourth. When he came out of the water,
Chad put his arm around him and pointed at the starting platform. Taylor nodded
as Chad spoke. On his second race, he got a great start and narrowly missed
first place. When he got out of the pool, he and Chad exchanged excited high
fives.

The meet was over before I
knew it and Mt. Hood had taken first place.

“You’re my good luck
charm,” Chad said at Spencer’s, a little hamburger joint with fresh-baked buns
and thick chocolate milkshakes.

“I don’t know if you guys
needed any luck.”

I took the first bite of
my bacon cheeseburger and moaned.

Chad laughed. “That good,
huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Nothing better than a
low-maintenance girl.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a
compliment or not,” I said.

“It’s the very highest
praise. There’s nothing worse than a girl who’s never happy or satisfied with anything.”

“Well let me assure you
that a good bacon cheeseburger and a chocolate shake is a sure way to put a
smile on my face.” I grinned to prove my point.

We sat in the booth and
talked long after our hamburgers and milkshakes were gone. When the waitress
started giving us dirty looks, we realized they were trying to close. “Sorry,”
Chad said to the waitress and smiled at her as we walked past. “We were having
so much fun we lost track of time. Hope we didn’t keep you too long.”

His smile disarmed her and
she smiled back. “No problem. Have a good night.”

Chad walked me to my car. “We
don’t have practice Monday,” he said, “so I was thinking that might be a good
night to take you swimming.”

“Won’t you want to avoid
from the pool on your night off?”

“Nah, I don’t mind. We can
use the school pool and then we can get some dinner. I’ll let you decide if we
go for hamburgers and shakes again or if you’d like to branch out a little.”

Monday would make six
dates. The faster I reached the finish line, the faster I’d be able to focus on
my relationship with Matt. And the faster I could rid myself of the guilty and
confused feelings I felt when I was with Chad. He was so nice and funny and
sweet. But he was also a far cry from Mr. Darcy and as much as I enjoyed his company,
I couldn’t stand the thought of leading him on or hurting him.

“Sure. Monday sounds
good.”

Chad closed the door and
waved as I pulled out of the parking lot.

The recessed lights glowed
from inside the pool. The water was smooth and quiet except for a gentle
lapping sound by the vent. Chad flipped the switch and the room lit up.

I stuck a toe in the water
to check the temperature.

“It’s heated so it should
feel okay.”

The temperature felt fine
but I was self-conscious and embarrassed.  Chad stripped down to his swimsuit.
I was relieved to see he was wearing regular swim trunks and not one of those
form-fitting competition suits. His muscular shoulders provided more than
enough distraction. He dove into the water with no hesitation. I’ve always been
impressed when someone jumps right into the water. I usually step onto the
first step, let my feet adjust to the temperature and then take another step.
Ten minutes later, I’m finally in up to my shoulders. Putting my head in is a
whole other issue.

Tonight was different.
There were only two of us here and once I was down to my swimsuit, I’d quickly
be in the water. No standing around on display tonight.

“Come in whenever you’re
ready,” Chad said. He turned away from me and started swimming to the other side.
I suspected he knew I was uncomfortable and wanted to give me a little privacy.
I quickly took advantage of his kindness, pulled off my sweats and jumped into
the water.

It may have been heated
but it still felt bracing and took my breath away. I moved around trying to
warm up my body until Chad swam back.

“Did anyone ever teach you
how to breathe while you’re swimming freestyle?”

“If they did, I don’t
remember.”

“Then let’s start there,”
Chad said. Soon I was putting my face in the water and blowing out a long, slow
breath. I didn’t have to do this alone. Chad did everything with me. Once I’d
mastered taking a breath, lowering my face and exhaling to the count of five,
we moved to timing the inhale. Chad took my hands and guided them in the arm
motion of freestyle swimming while he helped me get accustomed to the time I
would take a breath. “Left, right, inhale. Right, left, inhale. Left, right,
inhale. Right, left, inhale. Good. Now while we do it, blow out slowly during
the first two strokes. Blow. Out. Inhale. Blow. Out. Inhale. That’s right.
You’ve got it.”

Chad was such a kind and
encouraging teacher, I found myself wanting to be a good student.

“Now let’s put all that in
the water. You won’t actually swim yet but you’ll do all this under water. You’ll
exhale, stroke and inhale.” I lowered my upper body even with the water and
went through the motions. When I had a good rhythm going, Chad stepped aside.
“Now take it across the pool. Don’t panic and don’t rush. You know you’re going
to get a breath in three counts, so just keep your rhythm going.”

I repeated the words in my
mind as I swam. Blow. Out. Inhale. Blow. Out. Inhale. I was swimming the length
of the pool without panic. I didn’t have to stop and tread water while I caught
my breath. Every third stroke I took a quick breath and then with my face in
the water, I slowly exhaled. Before I knew it I was at the other end of the
pool.

“That was so easy,” I yelled.
From across the pool, Chad smiled and gave me two thumbs up.

“Now swim back to me. Just
keep the rhythm steady and don’t panic.”

I put my face back in the
water and sang the words in my mind. After years of fighting the water when I
did the freestyle stroke I felt completely in control. I was elated.

“You did great,” Chad said
after I swam back to him.

“You’re a good teacher.”

Chad gave me a few
pointers on my kick and we both swam a couple more lengths of the pool. When we
were through swimming, we split up to get dressed. Chad went into the boys’
locker room and I went into the girls’.

Even with the lights on, I
managed to freak myself out. The room felt too big and quiet. I imagined how
easy it would be for someone to lurk behind a row of lockers, ready to leap out
and kill me. I dressed in a panic and ran as quickly as I could back out to
meet Chad. I didn’t bother with combing my hair or fixing my face. Those things
weren’t worth dying for.

“Are you okay?” Chad
asked. “You look terrified.”

“That room is scary at
night. I completely worked myself up in there.”

Chad laughed and put his
arm around me. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. Now what sounds good to eat?”

“How about pancakes?” I said.

“Pancakes it is.”

The fluorescent diner
lights blazed and I wished I’d controlled my fear long enough to apply some
mascara and comb through my hair. My chlorine-dipped skin felt tight and dry
and I could feel my hair frizzing as it dried.

While we waited for our
pancakes and bacon, we swapped Thanksgiving plans and family traditions. I’d
just finished telling him about my mom’s famous stuffing when I realized he was
smiling at me.

“What? Is something
funny?”

“No, I was just looking at
your hair.”

“Oh, it’s awful, isn’t it?”
I touched the tight, unruly curls.

“It’s fantastic.” Chad
reached over and twirled a curl around his finger.

“It needs some serious hair
product,” I said. Chad kept his finger there, twisting it around and around.

“I don’t think it needs
anything.” Chad’s fingers were so close to my face I could feel their warmth. I
wanted to tilt my face so his hand touched my cheek but I knew that would be sending
the wrong message. I’d finally met the man of my dreams. So why did every part
of me want to lean into Chad’s warm fingers, to have his hand touch my cheek? It
didn’t make any sense.

Fortunately, I was saved
from my confusion before I could make a fool of myself. The waitress arrived
with plates of food and soon things were back to normal.

At least as normal as they
could be after I realized I wanted someone other than the man of my dreams to
caress my cheek.  

THANKSGIVING DINNER WAS
over and Mom, my sister-in-law Laura, and I were putting together this year’s
Thanksgiving Day puzzle. Dad, my brother James, and his 3 year-old son, Jonah
were napping to the sounds of a football game on television. We’d just finished
the edge of the puzzle when my phone chirped.

CHAD: HOPE YOU’VE HAD A
NICE DAY WITH YOUR FAMILY. WANT TO KNOW WHAT I AM THANKFUL FOR? YOU. SEE YOU AT
THE MEET ON TUESDAY.

“What’s the matter, Lizzie?”
Mom asked.

I stared at Chad’s text,
turkey and stuffing churning in my now upset stomach.

“Lizzie, tell me what’s
wrong.”

“I’ve done a terrible
thing,” I said.

“What have you done?”

“I’ve led on a really nice
guy.” I squeezed my eyes shut and put my head in my hands. “I’m so ashamed.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad
as you think,” Laura said.

“What are you talking
about?” Mom asked.

I told them everything. I
told them about Janessa and her crazy ten-date ultimatum. Of course Mom was
proud of Janessa. I told them about Chad and how kind and good he was. They
were excited for me until I leveled them with the bad news. I couldn’t like
Chad, no matter how great he was, because I’d finally met Matt Dawson, the
closest thing to Mr. Darcy I could ever hope for.

“Mom, he’s everything I’ve
always wanted. When he walked into the bank that first day, I knew it. I knew
he was what I’d been waiting for.”

“How did you know so
quickly?”

“He could be Matthew
Macfadyen’s twin brother. He was tall and reserved and confident.” I noticed I
was choosing my words very carefully to make Mom and Laura like Matt. The truth
was he’d been tall, arrogant and snobby. He often still was, but those words
wouldn’t sound right to Mom and Laura.

“Tell us more about Matt,”
Mom said. I saw a look pass between Mom and Laura and I knew I had to make them
understand why I liked him. I had to make them see he was perfect for me.

“He owns a bookstore
called The Pink Salamander. It’s just a couple of blocks from the bank. He’s
very smart and well read and we have interesting conversations. We get together
almost every day for lunch and discuss news and politics. He’s really into
healthy eating and so he orders lunch every day from The Eighth Natural Wonder.
That’s a health-food restaurant across the street from the bookstore.”

“Is he a nice man?” Laura
asked.

Why was that such a hard
question? Was he nice? He certainly wasn’t the nicest man I’d ever met. But he
wasn’t intentionally cruel.  Just honest.

Wow. That wasn’t much of a
recommendation. “He’s kind of serious and aloof until you get to know him,” I
said. “But he’s nice to me.”

“Nice sounds so boring,”
Laura said, “but it’s not. Kindness is what counts. I know when I’m tired or
sick”—she patted her three-month pregnant stomach—“I don’t care if James is
attractive or smart at all. I just care if he’s good to me.”

“I should tell Janessa I
can’t do this anymore,” I said with resolve. “It isn’t fair to Chad.” Again,
Mom and Laura exchanged a look. “What? You think I should finish out the ten
dates?”

Mom picked her words
carefully. “Honey, I don’t know either of these guys so it’s hard for me to
say. Does Chad know about Janessa’s dating plan?”

“No.”

“And he keeps asking you
out?”

“Yes.”

“Then he must be doing it
because he wants to,” she said.