Chapter Text
Lizzie didn’t know how long she and Darcy stood in the attic, kissing each other. But when she finally resurfaced for air, she couldn’t help laughing—because when she was a teenager, she had declared that she would never settle for a mere mortal man to love her. If she couldn’t have the passionate, earth-shattering affairs that she wrote in her stories, she just decided she’d never love anyone at all. She wouldn’t give up her liberty for just anyone.
But that was long before she met Darcy.
“Alright, Professor. Time to experience your first Bennet dinner.”
He was wearing a stern, stoic look that she had, at one time, misinterpreted for him being judgmental. Now, she knew that he was anxious as hell.
And while it was a little awkward at first (especially since Marmee and Mr. Bennet were under the impression that Lizzie hated this Darcy fellow), they immediately saw that Lizzie was radiant. She was usually full of this restless, unsettled energy—especially lately. But standing beside Darcy, she looked like she had finally sprouted roots. It took a little while for Darcy to understand the dynamic (since everyone talked over each other), but eventually, he began to relax.
Though, he was surprised when Lydia stopped behind his chair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Thanks,” she whispered in his ear. It was over before he had a chance to react. But this little gesture of gratitude was so unexpected that it nearly brought him to tears.
It helped when Bing arrived, and he was able to witness his best friend’s happiness first-hand.
“Sweetie, you’re working too hard,” Jane chided, while baby Daisy and Michael screamed and laughed at the sight of their daddy.
“Okay, I’ll quit tomorrow,” Bing teased, kissing her first before taking his squirming babies in his arms.
“Hey. You okay?” Lizzie whispered into Darcy’s ear.
He turned, and their faces were awfully close together. He could see that her bottom lip was looking a little bruised from their enthusiastic make-out session upstairs. It filled him with an unanticipated glow of happiness. His smile was slow and subtle, something so intimate that it made Lizzie blush all over again. He squeezed her hand under the table. “Yeah. I’m wonderful. But I just have one question.”
“What’s that?” she hummed, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“Why do you call her Marmee?”
Mrs. Bennet overheard that, and she was more than thrilled to regale him with her favorite story of how Jane mispronounced the word when she was first learning to talk, and the nickname had simply stuck with them for all these years. But Jane insisted it was Lizzie who actually started the nickname, and a friendly argument broke out among the family.
Darcy simply sat back and watched the merriment around him with a warm smile. The only hint of melancholy came from the occasional unguarded expressions of pain from Mary at the other end of the table.
—
Over the next two months, Mary’s condition worsened, which put Lizzie and Darcy’s physical relationship on a brief pause. They did just about everything but take the next big step, given that it would be Lizzie’s first time with anyone. And she just couldn’t fathom indulging in that sort of pleasure while Mary was suffering. Another part of her was terrified of taking that step with anyone, even someone she loved as much as Darcy.
Still, he was a closet romantic, who enjoyed showering her with expensive dates and gifts just to annoy her (though she secretly loved them, but she would never admit it to anyone). He was also in no rush to get Lizzie into bed with him since he was just glad to be with her. Everything else could wait. There were other, more important things to focus on.
James was beside himself with worry. He had a desk calendar at work, and there was a big date circled in red next week. Mary’s last round of chemotherapy—hopefully. The doctors felt that her levels were promising. She just needed to hit the bare minimum next week. Was that too much to ask?
Since it was her second round of treatment, she was in the hospital for extra monitoring for the next 5 days—especially since she was so weak that she was hardly eating. The family took shifts spending the night with her, and tonight was James’. He arrived just as Lydia was leaving.
She met him at the door, and he knew by the look on her face that things hadn’t really improved. All he had to do was put a hand on her shoulder, and Lydia turned to bury her face in his chest.
“She talks like she doesn’t know me sometimes,” she squeaked, between sobs.
“I know,” James said, doing his best not to lose control over his voice. “They said that’s not uncommon at this phase.”
Lydia stepped away from him with a muttered word of thanks. “She’ll be glad to see you.” With that, she gave him a quick hug before escorting herself home.
James took a steadying breath and walked into Mary’s room. Her eyes were closed, and so he took his time putting a fresh bouquet of daisies into a vase by the window. When he turned around, she was awake and smiling at him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, walking over and kissing her forehead.
“Sweetheart. I like that one,” she whispered.
He had been teasing her by trying to select the perfect pet name. She had vetoed most of his choices, but this was the first one she actually liked.
“Good. I intend to call you that until I croak,” he said, taking a seat beside her bed.
“Or until I do.”
“Mary, stop.”
“James, I love you.”
He rested his head against the railing on her bed. When he felt her hand snake its way into his hair, he let out a soft sob. He lifted his head so he could meet her gaze. “I love you, too. But you have to stop talking like you’re not going to get through this. You’ve already survived once.”
He could see the uncertainty on her face. Despite this, she nodded her head. “Okay.”
James wasn’t convinced. He leaned closer and pressed his hand along the side of her face. “I’m going to take you to all the places you’ve wanted to see. Italy, Germany, France, Australia.”
“Austria,” she corrected, with a slight smirk. “To see where Mozart was trained.”
“See? I need you around to keep me straight. I need you, your family needs you, and your students are driving poor Mrs. Jennings crazy. They want their favorite teacher back. You should see your office door—it’s covered in letters, pictures, and cards.”
Mary’s eyes filled with tears. She gazed around her hospital room, and she saw evidence of all the people who loved her. Flowers from James, balloons from Dad, her favorite snacks from Marmee, and books from Lizzie. Jane had sent little bits of handmade artwork from the twins. Their handprints and finger-paintings stood in the same proud place beside Lydia’s gorgeous portraits (since she had started drawing again).
Her eyes drifted back to the man beside her. “I’m not used to being needed.”
“That’s the problem with you, Mary. You don’t realize how important you are.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “Furthermore, I want to get married and have children.”
She frowned. “I don’t know…if I can, after all of the chemo, I mean. Or if I even want them.”
He was unfazed by this and shrugged. “Then, we’ll have 15 cats and dote on them like they were our children. Just as long as I get to pass through this life by your side, Mary, I would count myself incredibly lucky.”
She lifted her thin hand and rested it against his dear, sweet face. “Okay,” she sighed.
“Okay,” he said, feeling as though he’d accomplished something monumental with that single word. “Now. Where did we leave off?” He pulled a book from his tote bag and flipped it open. “Hopefully I don’t pass out from all of these run-on sentences. Did Ernest Hemingway have no sympathy for his poor readers?”
Mary chuckled at this. After a while, she was lulled to sleep by James’ soothing voice.
—
Another long month passed, and Mary turned to the last page of the book. She had tears in her eyes as she read the last line.
Lizzie, who was pacing agitatedly in her room, stopped and stared pointedly at her sister. “So?”
“It’s beautiful. I just have one note.”
“Only one?” Lizzie brightened.
“I think it’s more poetic if Beth dies.”
Her excitement deflated. “Mary—”
“No, think about it. Her death would be the last push Jo needs to write her best novel. It would help Amy grow up and let go of her childish ways. Even Meg gains perspective on what’s important—money versus happiness. It’s fitting for Beth to die.”
Lizzie was almost hyperventilating. She immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion. “But—you’re not saying—”
“Hey, I’m fine ,” Mary said, reaching for her sister’s hand and holding it. It was no secret that this Beth character was heavily based on Mary’s own life. She felt the need to reassure Lizzie, nonetheless. “I’m officially in remission. Remember?”
She stared at her younger sister with complete awe. Mary had surprised everyone with her rapid recovery. The doctors were shocked at just how good her levels had looked after her last treatment. To the Bennets and extended family, it was no great mystery what had motivated Mary to push so hard across the finish line. She and James tied the knot in a very small ceremony the day after she was released from the hospital. And the daily walk to and from her new home (the Laurence mansion) to her old one had done wonders for restoring her stamina. The only one who was having trouble adjusting was poor Kitty, who often needed reminding that Mary now lived in the big, fancy house next door with her new husband.
Mary tugged on Lizzie’s hand until she was seated on the couch beside her. “I think it’s time for you to take after this Jo character, Lizzie. You’re holding onto some old fears. It’s time to stop procrastinating and get this book out to publishers. And to put your poor Darcy out of his misery. I think he’s waited long enough, don’t you?”
Lizzie felt thoroughly chastised by her younger sister. But it was exactly what she needed to hear. She needed to take the next step with her book and face possible rejection. She also needed to get over her own anxieties and take the next big step with her boyfriend.
And so, after making some key adjustments to her story (for the final time), she packed herself up and drove all the way to New York in the car that Darcy had thoughtfully loaned her. It took her way longer than she liked to find a parking space and then walk the three blocks to his lavish apartment.
She didn’t even give him a chance to speak when he opened the door. She just launched herself into his arms.
He grunted in surprise and then delight as her kiss turned passionate. She broke apart to whisper, “Is anyone else here?”
He shook his head.
“Good.” And after kicking her bags through the door, she slammed it shut and locked it.
They barely made it to the bedroom.
It wasn’t at all what she expected, but it was certainly just as passionate as she had hoped. It couldn’t be otherwise, with the chemistry between them. It was a relief to let herself feel this strongly for someone else, to love someone wholeheartedly to the point of being afraid of losing them. It was all so new for her. But thankfully, Darcy was a patient man. She repaid him for his patience multiple times that night.
~ EPILOGUE ~
Lydia pulled up to Orchard House with a flutter of excitement in her chest. She grabbed the package from the passenger seat of her sensible car (something she had scraped and saved for over the last two years at her part-time job) and rushed towards the front door.
Only to be stopped by the sight of an unfamiliar figure sitting on the front steps.
“Uh—hi,” she said.
The young man glanced up, and he looked a bit confused at first before he smiled. “You must be Lydia.”
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” Her heart began to race. It was a knee-jerk reaction. While she hadn’t had that many followers on her social media (before it was deleted), she had run across a few people who recognized her. It was almost always an awkward and painful conversation, with people asking a whole host of uncomfortable questions. She was immediately on the defensive.
“No, we’ve never met. I’m actually—”
“Wait,” she said, staring at him. Something was nagging at the back of her mind the longer he looked at her. His lovely tawny skin was glowing in the heat of the summer sun. He had long, dark lashes and curly hair that would be the envy of any woman. He was somehow familiar… “Did you work with my dad overseas? Staff Sergeant, um…”
His dark eyebrows rose in surprise. “Ramirez. Luis Ramirez.”
“Wow, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, reaching out a hand to shake his.
He looked just as relieved as she felt. “I’ve actually been waiting here for kind of a long time? Your dad was supposed to be back an hour ago to meet me.”
“Oh, my God. I bet he forgot to turn the ringer on his phone. I don’t know how many times I’ve told him…and he probably didn’t even charge his smart watch, either.” She sighed and gestured to the swing on the front porch. “Would you mind waiting there? Just—you know.”
He didn’t think anything of it. “Say no more,” he said. He turned to walk up the steps, but he stumbled slightly.
Lydia reached out automatically, and he gripped her arm a bit too hard to keep from falling down. He apologized profusely, his neck growing darker with a sudden flush of embarrassment. Lydia caught sight of an arm crutch lying on the cracked pavement, and she picked it up, handing it to him.
He apologized again, feeling it necessary to explain: “Your dad saved my life, but some scars don’t always heal, you know?”
She laughed. “Yeah, and not just the physical ones.”
He met her gaze, and instead of appearing shocked or alarmed by her impulsive statement, he just nodded his head. Like he completely understood.
Lydia went inside and got him a glass of Marmee’s fresh-squeezed lemonade while they waited for her father to return home. They stayed on the porch, just until Lydia knew for certain that this man was who he claimed to be.
But the anticipation from earlier was eating away at her, and she couldn’t help tearing into the package on her lap. She gasped and held the book in her hands with reverent awe.
“‘Little Women,’ by Elizabeth Bennet,” she read aloud. She couldn’t stop the tears as they welled in her eyes. It was a two-year wait to get this book on the shelves, and she was holding the first advanced copy. But apparently, Lizzie had been keeping something a secret, even from nosy and prying Lydia.
“Wow, the cover artwork is gorgeous. Who painted it?” Luis asked, admiring the book from the seat beside her.
“Uh, well…I did,” she said, looking a little sheepish.
Luis smiled. “I’ll have to buy a copy so you can sign it.”
Lydia’s grin was almost back to its old brilliance. She was just so flattered that Lizzie had chosen one of her pieces and that this perfect stranger was complimenting her. “Well, if you don’t mind waiting another 30 minutes, the author will be here, too.”
“Do I mind? This is heavenly,” he said, gesturing in front of them to the cheerful, if slightly unkempt yard in front of them, the porch that needed a fresh coat of paint, and the crooked mailbox in front of Orchard House. “And the company isn’t bad, either.” He winked.
Lydia snorted. “That was cheesy.”
Luis was flushed again. “I’m a little rusty.”
“I said it was cheesy, but I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” And for the first time in a long time (perhaps years), Lydia found herself flirting with a cute guy. It felt strangely nostalgic.
But the warm feelings didn’t end—especially when several cars pulled up all at once. The first to step out was Bing and her dad. Mr. Bennet apologized to Luis, claiming he had completely forgotten about the party (though Lydia suspected this wasn’t true, especially when he asked, “Has my daughter been keeping you out of trouble, Sergeant?” with a decided twinkle in his eyes). Marmee, Jane, and the twins emerged from the minivan—and all four of them were soaking wet from Daisy and Michael’s supposedly “disastrous” first swimming lesson. Next was Mary and James, who had driven nearly an hour out of their way to pick up a gourmet cake for the occasion. Only, the cake had fallen over in the backseat, and one of the three tiers was salvaged at the last minute. Fitz, Joe, and Gigi got to the house literal seconds before Darcy and Lizzie pulled up.
Everyone’s presence on the front lawn meant that the “surprise” element of the party was a bit ruined (as was the cake), but no one cared. In fact, Lizzie was laughing even harder when she saw the sad state of Marmee, Jane, and the twins. No other family handled disasters quite like the Bennets. They just buckled down and made the most of it.
Bing and Darcy were kind enough to include Luis into their much quieter discussion about the logistics of getting Lizzie’s book published. But it was James who turned to the young man (who was looking a little overwhelmed at the cross-conversations happening all around him), and said, “You’ll get used to it. And then you won’t be able to live without it.”
James looked over at his wife, and Mary gave him a special sort of smile. The kind that turned his insides to mush.
Bing wrangled his two toddlers into submission so that Jane had a chance to actually eat her cake in peace.
And Darcy, while he was engrossed in what James was saying, couldn’t help but be distracted by the sight of his girlfriend across the room. She was accepting compliments from Fitz and Gigi, and she was glowing—for more than one reason. He knew that she wanted to wait until they learned the gender to tell the family (especially since they were in the middle of planning a wedding), but it was getting harder to hide the distinct bump beneath baggy clothing.
Marmee stood beside her husband and let out a soft sigh. Mr. Bennet put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Happy or sad?” he asked. It was his silly way of getting her to tell him how she was feeling without making assumptions.
She met his gaze. “A bit of both.”
He smiled. “Yeah. Our little women are all grown up.”
Marmee leaned her head on his shoulder. “But they’re all together. What more could we ask for?”
“Not much, my dear. Not much.” He kissed his wife’s cheek and felt like the most blessed man in the world.