Austenland Read Free Page B

read it.
“So it’s come to this,” Molly said.
“Help,” Jane squeaked.
Molly nodded. “I don’t know, Jane, do you really think you should subject yourself to something like this? ... Good job, Jack! Did you stack those blocks all by yourself? You’re such a smart boy, my big smart boy . . . It might make things worse. You just might fade away into a Mr. Darcy Brigadoon for good.”
Jane sat up. “So you know how bad I am? The whole Darcy thingie?” Molly put a hand on her leg. “Honey, I don’t blame you. You’ve had rotten luck with that whole romance sh—uh, crap,” she said, amending her diction as she glanced at the kids. Hannah had managed to stick both her fingers into her nostrils and tottered over to Molly to show off her new trick. “Did you find your nose holes? What a smart girl! ... Janie, are you going to get sad if I say this? Should I say this?”
“Say it.”
“Okay.” A deep breath. “This obsession...
Jane groaned at the word and completely buried her face in the throw pillow.
“....has been brewing since we were in high school. I used to fantasize about jumping Darcy’s bones myself, but you’ve turned it into a career. You’ve been forced into it by a train wreck of bad relationships, it’s true, but the last couple of years . .
“I know, I know,” Jane mumbled into the pillow. “I’ve been freaking out, I sabotaged myself, and I couldn’t see it at the time, but I can now, so maybe I’m okay.”
Molly paused. “Are you okay?”
Jane shook her head and the pillow with it. “No! I’m spooked I’ll do it again. I’m so afraid I’m damaged and castoff-able and unlovable and I’m not even really sure what I’m doing wrong. What should I do, Molly? Please tell me.”
“Oh, honey. . .”
“Uh-oh.”
Molly cleared her throat and adopted her most gentle tone. “Have you noticed that you refer to any guy you’ve ever been on a date with as a ‘boyfriend’?”
Jane had noticed it. In fact, she’d numbered all her boyfriends from one to thirteen and referred to them in her mind by their number. She was relieved now that she’d never mentioned that part to Molly.
“It’s not really normal to do that,” Molly said. “It’s kind of... extreme. Kind of slaps expectation on a relationship before it’s begun.”
“Uh-huh,” was all Jane could muster in response, even to her best friend. This was a raw, pin-poking subject. A couple of years ago, she’d toyed with having a therapist, and though in the end she’d’ decided she just wasn’t a therapy kind of a gal, she did come out of i understanding one thing about herself: At a very young age, she had learned how to love from Austen. And according to her immature understanding at the time, in Austen’s world there was no such thing as a fling. Every romance was intended to lead to marriage, eve flirtation just a means to find that partner to cling to forever. So for Jane, when each romance ended with hope still attached, it felt a brutal as divorce. Intense much, Jane? Oh yes. But what can you do?
“Jane.” Molly rubbed her arm. “You’ve got so much going on! You don’t need this Pembrook Park, and you definitely don’t need Mr. Darcy.”
“I know. I mean, he’s not even real. He’s not, he’s not, I know he’s not, but maybe..
“There’s no maybe. He’s not real.”
Jane groaned. “But I don’t want to have to settle.”
“You always do. Every single guy you ever dated was a settle.
She sat up. “None of them loved me, did they? Ever. Some of them liked me or I was convenient but. . . Am I truly that pathetic?”
Molly smoothed her hair. “No, of course not,” she said’ which meant, Yes, but I love you anyway.
“Argh,” Jane arghed. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t trust myself. I mean, how did you ever know for sure that Phillip was the right guy?”
Molly shrugged. It was the same shrug that had twitched in Molly’s shoulders at summer camp eighteen years ago when Jane had