Page 54 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

I actually did okay tonight and only stepped on one, or maybe two. Possibly three.

“Those poor toes,” she says.

“Indeed,” I answer.

“So ... someone pinched your butt,” she says.

I chuckle. “I knew you were going to bring that up.”

She laughs quietly in response. “But ... did you like it?”

I scrunch my nose. “No,” I say with a chuckle.

“I mean, it is kind of flattering,” she says. “It means your butt in those breeches is too enticing.”

“It’s violating,” I say, but I’m mostly joking. I’m pretty sure I know who it was. A woman who introduced herself as Edith, who was not staying in character and tried to get me to tell her my real name. I told her it was Fitzwilliam.

“So, how are you really feeling about everything?” I ask, watching her closely. She seemed like she was having fun tonight, but every now and then, I caught glimpses of something—a look of sadness on her face.

“I still feel awful about Monroe,” she says quietly. “But then there are moments, like tonight at the assembly, where I getcaught up in everything and forget—just for a little while. And then I feel guilty, like I’m a terrible person for having fun while she’s in the hospital. I just hope she’s awake.”

“Macey,” I say. “That doesn’t make you a terrible person. I’m sure if the roles were reversed, you would want her to have fun, right?”

“Of course,” she says. “But ...”

“But that’s what you do,” I say.

“What do I do?”

“Worry about other people.”

She looks away from me. “I guess.”

“You do,” I say. “You’ve always cared about others.”You just started caring more about them than yourself,I want to add, but I don’t want to make her mad or scare her away. I enjoy sitting like this with her, in this quiet garden.

It’s true, though. I’ve watched Macey’s caring ways my whole life. She would get me to do things when we were younger, like build a fort in our basement, but then she would insist on helping clean it up so my mom wouldn’t get mad. One time she joined in when Amelia and I thought it would be fun to put a sprinkler under the trampoline, but then tried to take the blame for it when all the water ruined my mom’s flower beds. That’s just Macey.

But then when her dad left and her mom got into alcohol and drugs, that’s when it started to shift. It was a slow change, but she went from being someone who just wanted to help, to someone who felt like she had to earn people’s love by keeping them happy. It wasn’t enough to just be kind or thoughtful—she started bending over backward to avoid upsetting anyone, even at her own expense. If her mom snapped at her, she’d apologize, even when it wasn’t her fault. If someone needed something, she’d drop everything to do it, no questions asked. Somewherealong the line, she must’ve convinced herself that being liked was the same as being loved.

It’s too heavy of a topic, and whatever this thing is between us—this return to friendship or whatever—it feels too fragile right now to bring it up. Besides, I’m not trying to fix her. I’ll take Macey exactly as she is; I’d just never let her wear herself out trying to please me. Because she doesn’t need to.

“Sorry,” she says.

“For what?” I ask. She says the word so often, I wonder if she even realizes she’s doing it.

“I don’t know—it just seems like you think worrying about others is a bad thing,” she says.

“It’s not.” I shake my head. “Not always. But sometimes you do it to the detriment of yourself.”

“Like how?”

Oh, I have so many examples, just from this trip alone—where do I even start? Not wanting to say something when she was mistakenly cast as Jane instead of Elizabeth. Agreeing to ride a horse when she’s petrified of them, blaming herself for Monroe’s injury. So many to pick from. But there’s one that’s been bothering me the most.

“Like how you let me come on this trip even though you didn’t want me to,” I say.

She pulls in her chin. “I did too,” she says, sounding defensive.

“No, you didn’t. You gave me a bunch of reasons not to come—which, by the way, Idolike the nightshirt. So much, I might buy one to take home. Do you think the park has a gift shop?”

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