Page 81 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

“Great shirt,” she says, smiling at the T-shirt I came in early this morning to make.

“Thanks,” I say, looking down at my hot-pink tee with the wordsChanneling Lizzy Benneton it and smiling to myself because that’s what I’m about to do.

I’m not sure what got into me, but on the way back from Pride and Prejudice Park, after playing Elizabeth Bennet for a week and then finding out I hadn’t won the trip after all, and then everything with Zane, I realized something: I’m not living the life I want to live. I’ve been coasting, letting things happen to me instead of making them happen for myself. It’s not the life I imagined, and I can’t pretend I’m okay with it anymore.

I think playing Elizabeth had something to do with that. She taught me what it’s like to stand up for yourself, to speak your mind, even when it’s terrifying. I’ve spent so much time being scared of failing, of upsetting people, that I forgot what it felt like to actually want something for myself. But I remember now, and I’m tired of waiting for something good to happen—I want to make it happen.

So, I started making a list Sunday night—in the hotel room by myself, after crying my eyes out for a good while—of all the things I want for my life, where I want to be, and who I want to become. I added more to it the next day on the flight, doing my best to avoid talking to Zane. I was afraid that some of this new inner strength might slip away if he looked at me with those blue eyes and asked me to make out with him. Because I might have cracked.

And though I may have pictured that scenario more than once, I held strong.

Maybe I’m just caught up in everything, and maybe it won’t last, but right now I feel like a different Macey than the one who stepped on that plane ten days ago. I don’t even know exactly who she is yet—I haven’t fully worked that out. I’ll probably fall back into old habits sometimes, but right now, I’m going to take this gumption I’ve recently developed and use it.

“So, how was the trip? How was Pride and Prejudice Park?” Christine asks, her lips pulled up into a smile, her eyes bright.

“It was really fun,” I tell her.

“Tell me all about it,” she says, resting her hands over a shirt that saysIf Lost, Return to the Theater.

“Actually first, can I ... I need ...” I let out a breath. I see that speaking up for myself isn’t going to be as seamless as I pictured in my head. “Can we talk about something else first?” I sputter out.

“Of course,” she says, holding out a hand toward one of the eighties chairs in front of her desk.

“Right,” I say as I sit. I swallow and then clear my throat.You’ve got this, Macey.

“So, the program I wrote ... um ... I don’t want Verity to run it.”

Christine’s brows move upward. “Okay,” she says, uncertainty in her tone.

“I spent a lot of my free time coming up with it, and it’s something that means a lot to me,” I say. My heart is racing, and my palms are sweaty, but I’m saying what I need to say. “And Verity wants to make it into something it’s not.”

Christine nods her head, as if she’s following, but the crease in her forehead makes me think she’s not really getting it. “Well, Verity is the program manager; she has the creative freedom to adjust the direction if she thinks it’s necessary,” she says.

“But she’s not just adjusting it—she’s completely changing it,” I say. “If I wrote it, then I feel like I should have a say in how it’s presented.”

She nods her head, thoughtfully, the crease in her forehead softening. “So help me understand what you want here, Macey. Do you want us to not do the program at all?”

I shake my head. “No, I want us to do the program, but I want it to stay the way I wrote it.”

“Well, it’s Verity’s job.”

“I know that,” I say. “But I have an idea.” I swallow because I don’t think I expected to get to this part—this idea that I came up with on the plane. Honestly, I worried, or maybe figured, I’d crack under the pressure and go back to the Macey from ten days ago.

“What if I ran the program?” I ask.

“But—”

“I know that’s not my job,” I say, jumping in. “But ... I’d like it to eventually be what I do here. And I’d like to try my hand at running the program I wrote, doing most of the work during my free time so it doesn’t interfere with what you need me for. I’d like the chance to prove to you, and myself, that I can do it.”

Christine rests her head on her closed fists, nodding as she takes in my words. “Right. Well, I’d need to think about it,” she says after a few endless-feeling moments of silence.

My eyes go wide. “You’ll think about it?” Honestly, I didn’t expect to get to this part either.

“Yes,” she says, giving me a closed-mouth smile. “Let me think about it. But I have to say, I do like this tenacity from you, Macey. This trip must have been good for you.”

I nod. “I think it was.”

After giving her a rundown of how it went at Pride and Prejudice Park, I head back to my office feeling so much lighter. It’s the second time since Sunday that I’ve said what I wasfeeling, and didn’t hold back ... and this time, it does feel empowering.

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