Searching for Mr. Darcy

Scene Seventy-Eight

While waiting for the pharmacist to full her mother's prescriptions, Maisie texted Anabeth an update, then Talia to fill her in.

"You have to stay with your mother for how long?" Talia texted back.

"Two or three days at least."

"Man, that sucks.  I know she doesn't like me very much, but you want me to come over tonight and help you keep her company?  We can divide and conquer her passive aggressiveness."

"She's left passive behind and is full-on aggressive now, but if you wouldn't mind, that would be great!  Can you bring me some clothes, too?"

"Sure, anything else?"

Maisie typed out a short list and Talia sent back a thumb's up.  The pharmacist called out "Frampton."  Maisie collected the prescriptions, selected two pints from the freezer, loaded up on magazines, and checked out.  Her mother would appreciate the gossip rags while stuck in bed, and if she didn't, at least Maisie would have something to smack her with.

****

Talia showed up at seven that evening, with the promised bag and George in tow.  "I hope you don't mind," she said, nodding to him as she greeted Maisie.

"Not at all.  Hey, George.  How are things at the office?"

"Weird. Tense.  Roseberg is gone and they are interviewing for his replacement.  Everyone is afraid to say anything non-work-related.  Someone blabbed about talking with your lawyer and so all the higher-ups are freaking out."

"So they are scared!"

"Oh yeah."

Maisie's moment of triumph was short-lived, because a few seconds later, her mother called out her name. Her friends followed her down the hallway into her mother's room.  Momma Frampton was propped against the headboard, supported by half a dozen pillows and at least as many blankets forming a nest around her, her cast encased leg propped up by yet more pillows.

"You have visitors, Mom," Maisie said, taking the chair beside the bed so George and Talia could stand at the foot.

"Talia," Momma Frampton said, curtly.  "Good to see you."

Narrator: It was not good to see her.

"And the young man is?" her mother asked Maisie.

"My friend, George.  I've told you about him."

"Are you dating him?"

"No, Talia is."

Her mother turned a critical eye to George and sniffed.  "That figures.  Well, I know you didn't actually come to visit me, so you don't have to stay here in my room, staring at me."

"We did come to see you," Talia said.  "We brought food and games.  Maisie has told me how much you like puzzles, so we stopped at Target and bought several different ones for you to work on while you're stuck in bed."

"We'd love to help you with them," George added.

"And how am I supposed to put together a puzzle on my bed?" She swept her arm over her lap, the condescension dripping from every word.

"I'm going to rig something up for you," George replied.

"Rig?"

"Yes, ma'am.  I'll go work on that and let you ladies catch up."  He nudged Talia on his way out, and she watched him go, a serene smile on her face.

"How long have you been dating?" Momma Frampton wasted no time in asking.

"Just over a month," Talia answered.

"Oh," Mrs. Frampton rolled her eyes.  "So it's not serious.  Maisie, you could still-"

"Still what, Mom?  Steal him from Talia, my best friend?  What's wrong with you? Even if that's something I would do, I don't want to.  I have zero romantic notions toward George."

"Talia's too flighty for someone like him."

"I'm right here," Talia said, waving a hand.

"And you literally just met George," Maisie said.  "How could you possibly know what type of woman would be good for him?  Talia's not flighty."

"Thanks, Maze."

"You're welcome, T."

Momma Frampton dramatically threw her hands in the air.  "I do not understand why you are so against your own self-interests."

"Not going after the boyfriend of my best friend seems like it is in my best interest."

"Don't you want a boyfriend?"

"I'm fine single.  I'd be fine with a boyfriend.  I'm not going to force it just because you would prefer I ascribe to traditional societal expectations."

"You act like I'm some black op from the government, here to make sure you toe the line.  I'm not evil - I want you to be happy, to be taken care of."

"I am happy.  I take care of myself.  Do I look like I can't eat or clothe myself without the help of a man"

"You certainly don't look like you need any help eating," was Momma Frampton's biting reply.

"Why do I even bother?" Maisie asked Talia.  "Call me if you need something, Mother."  Maisie stood and headed for the door, but she stopped at the frame and turned back.  "You never dated after Dad died.  You never remarried.  If it's okay for you to stay single, why isn't it okay for me?"

"You don't know what it's like to lose the person you were meant to grow old with."

"No, I don't.  Do you know what it's like for your mother to pick and nag and question everything you've chosen to do in your life?"

"Yes, I do."

Maisie wasn't expecting an affirmative answer, but she rallied from the surprise.  "Then you'd think you'd back off a little, if you really know how it feels."  She turned on her heel and left the room.  Talia stayed behind, but Maisie didn't go back to see why.  George was on his knees in the living room, a card table and a tool box in front of him.

"How's the rigging going?" Maisie asked.

"Not too bad.  How's your mom?"

"She's a fucking pill.  I cannot believe I have to spend the next several days here, waiting on her."

George popped one of the legs off the table and tossed it behind him on the couch. "Have you told her about work?"

Maisie shook her head.

"Hand me that screwdriver," he said, pointing to a Philip's head by her foot.  She bent down and passed it to him.  "Are you going to tell her?" he asked.

"Not while she's like this."

"So, when she's dead?"

"Basically.  No, I told her I was thinking about switching careers, but I didn't tell her I was fired."

"How does she think you can take three days off to be here?"

"I'm sure it hasn't crossed her mind to even ask.  I don't know if you've noticed, but she can be pretty self-absorbed."

"She seemed more worried about you than she was worried about herself."

"Only because my failures reflect poorly on her."

Another table leg joined the first on the couch.  George began screwing in two shorter pieces in their place.  "Or, because she loves you and is trying to relate to you in the only way she knows how."

What the... Maisie stared at her friend, unable to respond.

"Just being devil's advocate," he added.

Maisie moved the broken legs off the couch and slumped into the cushions.  "The devil doesn't need an advocate.  He does just fine on his own."