“I’m glad you finally woke up and even found peace in the Lord, Daddy, but please accept that you’re not psycho. It’s not you—it’s them. It’s real. Trust me, I know. And, if it’s any consolation, I have a therapist, too, but no therapist has been able to advise me on how to kick Jane out of New York. She’s an adult, and I can’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
“That’s true. She’s bound to boil over, for sure, but there are more ways to skin a cat than stickin’ its head in a bootjack.”
“Like I said, that’s where you come in. It’s the only way to get through to her. Please just play along with what I say because it’s not going to go well for her if William intercedes. He’s as savage as a meat axe when it comes to my happiness or his family’s reputation,” she exaggerated, but it was mostly true. “Here she comes,” she softly said.
Her father squeezed out of the chair, then stood. “Baby girl! Look at you! The first apple of my eye,” he greeted, turning to face her sister with a beaming smile.
“Dad! What on earth are you doing here?”
He hugged Jane tightly, but Lizzy could see the disappointment on her sister’s face.
“I was just talking with your sister about that. She’s got some good news!”
“Hey, Jane,” she said.
“Lizzy,” she cooly snubbed, sauntering—not limping from the purported broken toe—to the table. “How wasParis?”
“Best time of my life.”
“How nice for you,” she sneered. “While I sweated it out in Queens with a broken air conditioner and a faulty lamp. I’m surprised I didn’t get electrocuted from your crappy leftovers.” She huffed, then took a seat. “I can only stay a minute or two. I have a date.”
“I come all this way and you can only spare aminutefor your daddy. Boy, big city livin’ has sure changed my girls. Lizzy tells me you’re workin’ in a coffee shop as a waitress, is that right?”
“I’m abaristaon the Upper East Side, big difference. They love me so much that I’ll probably be promoted to manager soon.”
“Aw, Roy’s looking for an experienced counter girl down at the diner. You’d be a shoo-in if you came home to your mama. She’s been cryin’ for you. Still bellyachin’ about how you abandoned her to her poor nerves?even talks about throwin’ herself off Devil’s Tower unless you come home.”
“Never,” she falsely smiled.
“Wow, manager, Jane.” She thought quickly. “That’s wonderful and perfect timing since I didn’t renew the lease on the Queens apartment.”
“Why not?” Jane asked.
“Go on, Lizzy. Tell her your big news.” Big Tom circled his thick index finger at her.
“William and I are engaged.” Flashing the ring, she delighted at how Jane’s chin slackened. “There’s no need for me to keep the apartment. Since you’ll be getting a raise, you’ll be able to pay the rent yourself.”
“That’s no big deal. It’s rent-controlled,” Jane said.
“Actually, once my lease ends, it’ll no longer be rent controlled because the lease has been under my name for years. If you want to renew under your name, I think the new rent will be about thirty-five hundred a month—even if it’s the shithole slum you think it is.”
Again, Jane’s chin dropped. “What about George?”
“What about him? Paris was ... illuminating and wonderful, and it turns out that while I was away falling in love all over again, the cheating snake wound up under federal investigation for extortion, money laundering, wire fraud, and pornography,” she exaggerated. “The Darcy family is handling the fluid situation with the Feds. George, of course, is cooperating, even naming his accomplice regarding a recent threat made against one of La Tempera and Pemberley Capital’s clients who is pressing charges againstallinvolved. Of course, the FBI promises leniency to the accomplice shouldshecome clean.” She raised an eyebrow.
“Why is Ladybug telling you all this with araisedeyebrow? What’s this about, Janie?” Her father’s burning gaze and stern tone brooked no argument.
Jane glanced at the fury on Big Tom’s red face, then, on cue, started to cry crocodile tears. “Why are you both ganging up on me? I’ve had a terrible day—with a broken toe!—and don’t need this crap! I’m innocent. You’re the one with the art gallery, maybe you’re the one involved in money laundering!”
“Now, there, you’re taking a play outta your mama’s book. Dry those fake tears and stop ricocheting blame onto your sister. What’s going on here? Fess up, now.”
Impressed at her father’s understanding of projection, she sipped her water, soaking up the tennis match between Big Tom and the Bennet golden child in a cut-throat power play.
“How can you possibly believe the bullshit she’s feeding you? Dad, she’s certifiably crazy. You have no idea what I’ve been through with her,” Jane complained.
Big Tom looked over at Lizzy and shook his head.
Continuing her emotional, victimized rant, Jane tossed out contradictions in her usual word salad of excuses and illogicalities. “This is all your fault for breaking your engagement to George! You’re imagining things! I didn’t do anything! It was all his idea! He made me do it! And you left me for Paris, never even returning my texts in my hours of need! Your insinuation shows just how crazy you are! I would never involve myself in criminality.”
