Searching for Mr. Darcy

Scene Fifty-Three

Friday could not arrive fast enough.  Maisie kept replaying Chad the douchenozzle's words over and over in her head.  "Fat."  "Bitch."  She hated giving him the power of her thoughts, but every time she looked in a reflective surface Thursday and Friday, they popped up, unbidden and unwelcome.

She knew Marcus would never say anything so hateful, but the wind had been knocked out of her sails a bit.  She was still excited, but approached the restaurant with more caution than she would have even two days ago.

Just the front door brought back memories, though.  Marcus had hired a limo for prom - well, him and six other guys - and the driver had dropped the whole group off right at the curb.  College students out celebrating the end of exams had paused on their way to Glenwood Ave to watch the parade of beaded taffeta and tuxes as it marched inside.  He had held the door open for the whole gang, so Maisie waited just inside while the others filed past.  She wanted to walk hand and hand with him to the table.

They felt so grownup that night, ordering oysters and paying for themselves (with Marcus's Dad's credit card).

He was waiting for her now, on the sidewalk, in front of that same door, and he smiled as she approached.  They hugged, and he held the door for her again.  "I got tickets for a show at Goodnights after this, if you're up for it," he said, once they were situated at their table with orders placed.

"I love that place.  I feel like I never get to go.  Talia, my best friend - you met her at Clay's - doesn't like comedy clubs for some reason."

"Does she hate fun and laughter?" Marcus asked.

"Far from it."  After a few moments silence, Maisie directed the conversation to a new topic.  "What are you doing now?"

"Right now? Having dinner with you."  He flashed her a sarcastic smile.

"Ha. Ha," she deadpanned.  "I mean for work.  You were going to school for philosophy, right?  What kind of career does that lead to?"

He laughed.  "Oh man, I guess it has been a long time since we've seen each other.  I switched majors at least four times."

"Really?  What did you land on?"

"Communications.  It was broad enough I figured I could get a job in any field."

"You're kidding! That's what I majored in, too."

"Really? What happened to biology and pre-med?"

Maisie groaned. "Mary Poppins was already a superstar in that field by the time I started.  I needed to get out of her shadow."

"Mary Poppins, the Disney character?"

"Did I not call Anabeth that in high school?"

"Your sister?"

Maisie nodded.

Marcus chuckled.  "No, I think I'd remember that.  How'd she get such a weird nickname?"

"According to my mother, Anabeth is 'practically perfect in every way.'  I got sick of all the comparisons and a tongue-in-cheek nickname was born. I never use it in front of her or my mother, though.  They would not find it funny."

"I'd think not. How are they, otherwise?"

"Good.  Anabeth is married, two kids.  Mom is still Mom."

"I'm assuming you did not tell her we reconnected?"

Maisie shook her head. Momma Frampton had never liked Marcus, for reasons unknown.  She'd been thrilled when Marcus announced he was going to an out-of-state school and had spent weeks dropping hints to Maisie that young, long-distance relationships never worked.  "But I didn't tell her about any of my dates, so you aren't special or anything."

"On that note - what was everyone talking about at the party - the Facebook page?  Did you really go viral?"

She slowly nodded.  "You're the only person I'm telling the whole truth to, besides Talia and George."

He leaned in, ready for conspiratorial whispers.  "Do I know George?"

"No, he's a co-worker.  He's like my brother."

"Got it, sorry - please continue."

"I was drunk when I made the page.  It was sort of an angry, tipsy response to a joke Talia had made - that I wouldn't be willing to date any man who wasn't Mr. Darcy.  She was teasing me about my standards, but it hit a little close to home."

"Why?"

She sighed.  "I haven't had much luck in the love department since we- since college.  A few short-term boyfriends, then a few bad dates, then some gross guys trying to grope me in bars.  I couldn't seem to meet anyone worth while.  I worried there was something about my looks or personality that was keeping decent guys away."

The table's wood-grained patterns suddenly became very interesting as Maisie avoided looking at Marcus.  She shouldn't have dumped all that on him.  What could possibly be less sexy than your ex-girlfriend's insecurities?  She couldn't think of anything.

He cleared his throat.  "I think most people feel that way from time to time when they're single.  If that helps at all."

It didn't.  But it did.