Hello. You don't know me, and by the time I finish this little tale of mine, you'll wish you hadn't... gotten to know me, that is. My name is not important right now, neither is my age or where I'm from. However, I will tell that where I grew up is where I am currently but I won't be tomorrow. That's right my bags are packed, the reservations confirmed and while I'm talking to you, I'm writing a letter to my three dearest friends... Yes, my three dearest friends. All who live within a square mile of my homestead.

Alright, since you asked, I'll give you a little hint: right outside my back parlor is the Atlantic Ocean and less than a 30 minute train ride (if I ever deigned to ride one) is the City that never sleeps. A City that I was drawn to from birth and planned to leave home to go to that great City as soon as I graduated from Vassar; it would've been right after my debut but I needed Daddy's money and he required that I attend college first. Even then I got sidetracked. Pinning my hopes and dreams on something that would never be... at least until today.

Anyway, at the age of 25, I ran to the City and determined to never look back... my heart had been broken and I went there to not only lick my wounds but to sow some wild oats (which I never would've been able to do in our confined and unvarying neighborhood) and live the life that I always wanted. How and why I ended up married are my own reasons. And if you had known those reasons, you would say that my divorce was for the very same... but don't ask. I'm not telling.

After that fiasco I came back home to Primrose Street in the 'distinguished' section of Maple Grove in the sleepy town of... Oh, that's right, I'm not supposed to say. Well, since I revealed the street and section, I might as well tell you all something more. Maple Grove is a great mixture of have's and have not's; some who belong and others who do not; some on their way up while others are on their way out. Great brick mansions down to tiny little wooden cottages. You'd think the city planners would've done a better job of keeping out the riff-raff for all the taxes we pay, but... Regardless, I did manage to make a few good friends at an early age and we've remained so since then. You know what they say about 'keeping friends close and your enemies closer...' Oh, I'm sure that you do. But this is not about enemies; this is about my dearest friends in all the world.

Around the corner and down the street are the Tilneys. Ah Henry... not much money, but a whole lot of fun. Henry and I are the same age, but I'm not telling you anymore than that. Several years ago, he took a trip down to seminary training in, get this: Connecticut, and brought back a bride. A country girl. Quite young and inexperienced, but a good sort of girl. Pliable, malleable... just the way I like them. The former Catherine Morland and I were immediate friends. And over the years, I even believe I managed to school her on being a proper society wife. Why, you ask, would I trifle with such a thing, when they had no money? Henry did have money, old money, but when his father did not approve of his bride, he threatened to disown him. Henry, of course, told his father to keep his money, as he would not need it either way. Pfffth! Well, despite the curses that the General bestowed upon them, the young Tilneys are on their way up... and if Catherine has anything to do with it, they will continue. She's got more spunk than I gave her credit for and is determined; I'll give you that, to make a mountain out of a molehill. She writes a syndicated column for one of the City newspapers and that nice bit of income supplements her husband's meager salary. And with that increase they were able to afford a nice duplex (that the Dashwoods were so kind enough to remove themselves from) in the same section where he grew up, although they have yet to speak to his father. Henry, if and when he chooses to, could charm the birds out of a tree. Pragmatic yet mesmerizing in his speech with twinkling eyes that rival the brightest stars. Catherine, with her curly brown hair, willowy figure, eyes as wide as saucers is pretty enough, I suppose... They're a happy little family... and if that's the kind of woman Henry's happy with, then I'm happy for him.

On my right are the Darcys. William or Will (or Fitzwilliam, if he allows you to call him that) Darcy was destined to make money. I had every faith that he would take his father's tri-state business and expand it on the global front. Which he did - with great panache and little fanfare. Will is 3 years older than Anne, Henry and myself but we came to love him and it was reciprocated. He grew up and still lives in one of the grandest houses here in Maple Grove (equal to my own, of course) and because of his looks, stature and rank he was well sought after by one and all society Misses. Instead, he married one of his... salespersons... from New Jersey, of all places. That would've been scandalous to his parents, but they are deceased and he is his own man and always has been... in every way. He doesn't like deception of any kind, except from his wife. Her name is, was, Elizabeth Bennet (why she prefers Lizzy is lost to me). Will, with one brief look, could tell you exactly how he feels with his intense gaze and depending on the turn of his thin, unyielding lips, you would know whether to run to him or away from him. He is such a presence. Lizzy - a stunning brunette, with eyes that I've heard sometimes called fine, though I could never see any beauty in her. Her dark features aren't the only thing that's dark about her. Wrong side of the tracks and all that, but her arts and allurements must've drawn him in. She's brash and rough around the edges and isn't afraid of anything or anyone, including her husband. But I think I've taught her a thing or two about being genteel. They make a great looking couple and one would think that by the way they argue, in public no less, that they hated each other... one might be right. Then again, one might be entirely in the wrong. I, however, know the truth.

Three doors to my left are the Wentworths. Anne and I have been friends from the crib for she is an Elliot, of course. We went through primary and secondary private schools together, even debuted together. Anne was always the shy and unassuming type; that's probably why Rick fell for her hook, line and sinker. Jocks always do. I got to know her husband during our sophomore year in high school - they met at football game, where he was the star senior quarterback and she was in the full bloom of her youth. Anne and Rick had been in love since that evening and only the outbreak of war (or so she says) prevented their immediately marrying after graduation. But I know her father had something to do with it, as Rick was not from our social circles (if you know what I mean). Rick went off to war to fight the evil empire and always-steady Anne remained at home to be quiet and confined in her love. 8 years later, Rick came home all-bemedaled and claimed Anne's hand. Only after her father discovered that not only had he mismanaged their family's financial holdings but that Rick had more than enough money of his own (he managed to squeeze in a few years of professional football) did he finally give his consent. Although they didn't need it. Mr. Elliot was forced out of his home and Anne and her husband purchased it. And while Anne may never have been a true beauty with her mousy brown hair and expressive eyes, she has carriage: strength and composure. But there was always something about Rick that was both charming and disarming - something way deep down that he shows only to intimates and rarely then... if he and Anne seem well matched to you, well... that's your opinion. Mine may differ. Then again, it may not.

For the last 5 years, I visited home, on occasion, when the mood hit me. Dropping in on my favorite people, delighting them in word and song, and leaving them wanting more. But it wasn't until my 'triumphant' return home a year ago (after my divorce, of course) that I accepted my rightful place in Maple Grove's society (at the top) and with all the dinners, social functions and charity work Anne, Cathy and Lizzy are my dearest, dearest friends. No sensible woman could ask for better.

So here we are. You now know my friends and how they're connected to me, but you have yet to know the purpose of my summation or who I am. As I said at the very beginning 'you'll wish you hadn't got to know me' because tonight... Tonight, I'm running away with one of my dearest friends' husband.

Catherine bounced down the staircase - a youthful spring in her step despite 6 years of marriage and a growing 5 year-old baby boy.

"Good morning, darling," Tilney greeted from the breakfast table.

Good morning, darling.

"Good morning."

He stood and kissed her chastely on her cheek. "Is my son not joining us?" He held out her chair.

"Thank you. He's already had his breakfast, Henry, and I don't want him to get his clothes stained before he reaches his play group."

"Oh, I see," he mumbled disappointedly and sat down. His son, little Henry, was the light of his life and he relished every moment spent with him.

She scraped the remaining eggs and bacon on her plate. "You woke up rather late today... any reason?"

Dreaming of me, of course.

"None whatsoever."

She raised an eyebrow - her husband was every day up with the sun - but decided not to follow through on her query. "I've already picked up your tuxedo for the ball tonight and..."

"Ah yes, the Annual Spring Ball. I hope your dance card has a few places for your husband?"

Just as long as you don't mind sharing him.

"Of course it does." She bit into her toast. "We're to meet at the Wentworths for drinks prior to."

"I might be late."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I have a meeting this afternoon and it might run overlong. I'll try to give you a call... if I can."

I might provide a few reasons for you not to call.

"Oh." Catherine busied herself with pushing around her food around the plate. "Perhaps I should wait for you."

"No, you shouldn't. You're on the committee."

"How would it look? Me, arriving... without my husband."

Now that might be worth seeing...

"I don't know why you continuously worry about what others will say. The town loves you... as they should." He unfolded his newspaper. "What are you wearing?"

She frowned. "I haven't decided."

"But I thought you were going to wear that little black number I bought for you from the City last week?"

"I never told you that. I don't know why you keep on insisting."

He startled momentarily at her harsh tone. "Well... I..."

"It's not my style."

"When I saw it in the window, I thought immediately of you. You know I don't normally waste money on frilly things, the least you could do was to wear it... tonight."

"You thought immediately of me, did you?"

"Of course."

"For some reason I don't believe you."

Neither do I.

"Cathy..." Tilney looked at her curiously; he thought this had all been settled weeks ago. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She rose without finishing her breakfast. "Nothing at all."

He stood as well and practically leapt over the table to grab her arm. "I think we should talk about... whatever is going on."

"I have to go."

"A man must love his wife as a part of himself; and the wife must see to it that she respects her husband..."

"Fine then." She lifted her chin. "That gown that you saw in the window... that gown that I would've never looked at... was the very same dress that Mary Crawford had on two weeks ago at our anniversary party and you haven't been able to stop drooling over it since." Catherine shook herself free and ran up the stairs.

So now you know who I am. Mary Crawford - belle of the ball, queen of the court, leader of the pack. That's me.

Tilney stood in the hallway and watched his wife take her leave.

***

She glided through the massive french doors to the dining room.

He looked at her attire with a detached air. "On pleasure bent again, Lizzy?"

It won't be half as much fun as to what I have planned...

"You know exactly where I'm going." Elizabeth sat down at the table.

"Yes... at least I know where you'll be... today," Darcy sneered. He had no proof, but he was almost certain that she was sleeping around on him. It ate at him, minutely.

A true lady never tells... except when it's to my advantage. And I'm quite accomplished at giving hints.

Elizabeth ignored his comment and self-consciously fixed the scarf around her neck. "The boat leaves in little more than an hour and, barring any unforeseen circumstances, I should be back in time to take a long bath before we have to meet at the Wentworths."

"Taking the underprivileged tikes around for an entire afternoon is sure to wear you out. You sure you'll be able to manage attending the Ball?"

"I know you don't want to go, but don't try and finagle me into your schemes."

"I wasn't talking about my schemes, dearest. I was talking about yours."

"Fitzwilliam, are you going or not?"

"You know that I despise dancing." He also despised it when she called him by his full-first name; it was not kindly meant when she used it.

He loves it when I call him by that name.

"Yes, I know." She raised an eyebrow. "But it's your civic duty."

"What do you know about civic duty, except for what I tell you or what Mary has shown you."

"Ah, here we go again!" she spat. "Mary Crawford this and Mary Crawford that! I'm sick of Mary Crawford!"

Who would've thought...?

"You're not sick, you're just jealous."

I knew it all along.

"Jealous? Me?"

"She has what you can't buy and that's class."

Elizabeth threw her napkin down on her plate and stood up. "Then why'd you marry me?!"

Because I dumped him... Silly me.

"That's the way you wanted it, wasn't it? I told you I didn't want to, but you were rather... persistent." Darcy cocked his head to the side and raised a disdainful eyebrow - banking his meaning on his last word.

"No, you were rather persistent!" she replied haughtily. "You wanted something from me that I wasn't willing to give without a ring on my finger. You could've gone elsewhere and gotten what you desired... for free!"

"Yes, my dear. You definitely weren't free and I paid dearly." It was a perverse game he played; he would taunt her just so he could glimpse the magic fire in her eyes.

She glared at him for a few seconds and then calmly asked, "Are you coming tonight or what?"

"I'll let you know." Darcy dismissed her with a wave of his hand and went back to eating his breakfast.

Elizabeth turned on her heels and strode away.

***

HONK! HONK!

"I'll be right out!" Anne called from the front lawn. "I just need to make sure I've got enough money on me to pay for twins' baby-sitter!"

"Alright!" Cathy responded through the open passenger window. "But we're already 10 minutes behind schedule!"

Anne nodded at her and walked right past her husband without looking at him.

"Good morning, Cathy!" Wentworth smiled through the window.

"Happy birthday, Rick."

Happy birthday, darling.

"Thank you!" he smiled. "Another friend who didn't forget me. Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Yes. Not fishing today?"

"No. I have a meeting in the City. Is my tie on straight?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes it is. I..."

"It's a good thing you're doing today. Kids need a chance to be kids without having to worry sometimes, where their next meal is coming from." Wentworth smiled fondly. "Mary was right, yet again!"

I'm always right because I plan ahead.

"Yes, always right," Catherine said automatically and without feeling. "What do you have there?"

"Oh... this?" He pulled the package from underneath his arm. "A lithograph. A Y. A. Tittle lithograph with his embossed signature..." he answered with a far away look in his eyes.

"Y. A. Tittle?" she whistled. "May I see it?"

"Sure." He handed the package through the window. "I knew you liked football, but I never realized you knew about players from days of yore."

Our resident little tomboy... there's always one in the crowd.

"I sure do. Can't be helped with an avid father and 3 older brothers." Catherine uncovered it. "Oh! What happened?"

His countenance changed to dark and somber. "Someone... spilled wine all over it last night... deliberately."

Oh?

"Oh?"

"Well, I must be off. Enjoy the wilderness!"

"Goodbye Rick." She frowned at him, but he had already turned away. "Have a nice day."

Oh, he will. I'm absolutely certain that he will.

Wentworth walked back up the path, passed his wife and jumped into his car.

"Sorry about that!" Anne closed the passenger door a moment later. "Men are no help in the mornings when you need to get the kids ready and everything prepared..."

Catherine pulled onto the road. "I'm surprised that Rick's not going fishing today?"

"Isn't he?" she answered distractedly.

"Didn't you notice that he was in his favorite blue pinstripe?"

"What day is it?"

The first day of the rest of my life. I'll be sure to send you a postcard.

"Saturday."

"Hmm? Well..." she shrugged.

"He said he had a meeting."

"My Rick? On a Saturday?"

"Your Rick."

"Well... I suppose he mentioned it. It seems we're not speaking to each other this morning. Or at least he's not speaking to me."

"What? Problems on the home front?"

"I forgot his birthday... again."

You were just too busy. Tsk. Tsk.

"Oh dear!" Catherine gasped.

"I'm afraid he hasn't forgiven me yet." Anne rolled her eyes in remembrance of the previous night. "I won't have time to pick up something today and I forgot to tell Mrs. Hill to make a layer cake tonight. Oh well..."

"Did you want us to bring our presents tonight? I mean... it might be awkward..."

"No," she sighed and pursed her lips into a scowl. "Mary sent hers special delivery right before dinner last night..."

I can't help it if I'm thoughtful... The early bird catches the worm.

"Mary, Mary, Mary!" Cathy hissed. "Do you ever get the feeling that her name passes your husband's lips more than your own name?"

Wouldn't you like to know...?

"Problems on the homefront?"

"It's just that..."

"You know the old adage 'if you don't have something nice to say...'"

"And I don't."

"I wonder if she knows that we talk about her and how we truly feel about her?"

I know exactly what you say about me.

"I'm sure she does, just as I'm sure she's reveling in it."

I am.

"Let's find something else to talk about. I don't want Mary Crawford intruding upon my morning any further." Anne reached for the radio.

"It's broken." Cathy shrugged.

And if you didn't talk about me, I wonder that you would have anything to say to each other at all.

"Oh well..."

***

I'm really surprised at some of you... Relegating me to the same class as some of the most ridiculous women in all the land. You used me very ill. Very ill, indeed. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness and I'll certainly not depart from it now. Let's review some of your speculations as to whom you thought I was:

I am seriously displeased at the illustrations of my character and I caution every last one of you... I am not one to be trifled with.

Elizabeth drove her sleek black Mercedes Benz up to the dock and parked. She got out and lit a cigarette but before she could take a refreshing drag, she was interrupted.

"Mrs. Darcy! Mrs. Darcy!" a lady called as she ran down the plank. "You are wanted immediately!"

"Yes Miss Bates, what is it?"

"The Captain is ready to ship off and none of the other ladies have arrived yet."

"They're not here yet?" Elizabeth looked around to confirm it with her own eyes. "Oh, holy...!" There was no way she could monitor 40+ children - currently screaming their heads off and running around like... well, like children - by herself. "Um... well..."

Just at that moment, Catherine pulled the Volvo up to the dock.

"Thank God!" she sighed in relief - cigarette long forgotten between her fingers but burning still.

"Sorry we're late!" Anne smiled at her friend's flushed face.

"Come along then!" Miss Bates pushed them all forward. "Where's Miss Crawford?"

"I thought she was coming with you?" asked Anne.

"No, she called this morning and left a message that she wasn't feeling well enough to join us," answered Elizabeth with a frown - her husband was very happy to have had the opportunity to talk to Mary and to relay her message.

The feeling is definitely mutual.

"Leave it to Mary to plan all this and duck out when it's time to do the dirty work!" hissed Catherine.

Honestly. Do you really see me as doing manual labor?

"Oh, but she'll be there for the credit," Elizabeth smirked.

Not this time... but you may take it in my absence.

"Don't you worry you're pretty little head about it."

"Believe me, I'm not. At the rate my day is going, I don't think I could stand an entire day with Mary Crawford."

Nor I, you.

Elizabeth wrapped her arm around Catherine as they walked. "Hang in there, kiddo. You're not the only one."

"Come along, ladies! Please?" Miss Bates pushed onward and upwards. "The Captain is waiting!"

"Sure thing, Hettie. Just let me take a last drag..." Elizabeth said.

Anne and Cathy watched her enviously; wishing they had the opportunity to have one before they cast off, but Tilney doesn't like the smell in his car and Catherine being the good wife and mother quit. Anne just didn't have the time to grab hers off the nightstand.

They all boarded the boat and in no time were on their merry way.

"Good morning, ladies!" Captain Denny smiled his greeting.

"Good morning!" they all returned.

"Who's minding the store?" Elizabeth asked with a cheeky grin.

They were barely 10 feet from the dock. "Don't worry, we're under capable hands."

"Capable hands, eh? I wonder..."

Not now, Lizzy. At least wait until you have him to yourself.

Anne elbowed Elizabeth in the ribs to stop her words for she knew something slightly lewd would come from her mouth.

"I've been commissioned with a very important missive." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. "This is for you."

The moment I've been waiting for...

They all looked at it.

"It's from Miss Crawford and addressed to each of you."

Anne took it and thanked the Captain. He and Miss Bates walked away.

"Oh look," Elizabeth drawled sarcastically. "She put us in alphabetical order."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Proper etiquette, darling!"

"Proper etiquette my a..." Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Mary Crawford would never put my name first on anything unless she wanted something from me."

Hmmm? Perhaps...

Anne began to tear open the envelope.

"Do we really want her condescension this morning?" asked Catherine while holding Anne's hands at bay.

"No, but I'm dying to see what she writes," said Anne and finished with the unveiling.

"Oh-my-God..." Catherine gasp-whispered.

"Ha!" Anne snorted. "What a fine joke!"

"I've never known Mary Crawford to have a sense of humor," Elizabeth gritted.

"You're not taking her seriously are you?" Anne asked incredulous.

Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.

"You aren't?" Cathy asked, deathly pale.

"No, dear." Anne grasped her hand. "I've known Mary longer than any of you. This is just her way of shaking things up."

"Whatever you say..." Elizabeth sniffed. "But you don't have anything to worry about, do you?"

"I can't believe you two!" Anne exclaimed. "When we get back to shore, you'll see," she admonished. "Come on, let's enjoy this beautiful morning and the sea breeze."

They all turned to the railing and espied a public telephone booth, just past the lowered gangplank - no more than 200 hundred feet away and looked at the booth longingly; suspecting, questioning, wondering...

Much better! I wonder who'll be shocked the most?

Elizabeth pulled out her pack of cigarettes, took one out, offered one to Anne and Catherine - which they both accepted - and lit up. After a few puffs, Catherine felt light-headed and tossed hers into the water.

***

Lunch on the steamer was a hectic event. The children had run themselves out and were ready for a bit of refreshment to add another burst of energy. Anne, Catherine and Elizabeth worked diligently and efficiently by making sandwiches and juice and after assuring themselves that all the children had partaken, they ate.

I dislike children; they tie you down - the wife stays at home while the husband is free...

Catherine had taken her meal on the top deck; she needed some sun and with the half of the children running around upstairs, someone needed to monitor them as well.

"Well now!" Anne wiped her mouth. "That was delicious."

"Ummm!" Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.

Anne checked the chart. "We'll have to divide up Mary's duties since she's not here... today." She placed emphasis on the last word to make a point.

"I'll be cleaning up," said Elizabeth indifferently. "If you need help with anything else... look me up, I should be easy to find."

Check the crew deck first.

"After you clean up, would you be willing to read to the children?"

"That, my dear Anne, should fall to you. You're very good with fairy tales."

"Lizzy..."

"And while you're at it, keep an eye on Cathy, she could use a good fable right now."

I like a good bedtime story myself. But there are no books allowed on my getaway... we'll make up our own.

"You don't think...?"

"I might." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Then again, I might not."

"You don't seem worried." Anne returned the gesture.

"I have all I want."

"Do you?"

"If Will decided to leave me... why should I care? I've got everything I want."

I'm sure you do. But you know the old saying 'you don't miss the water 'till the well runs dry...'

"Lizzy, you put on the hard edge but I know you..."

"No you don't, Anne. You grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth and your every wish fulfilled. I had to fight for everything I got. Cathy's in almost the same boat, except she had to fight for the respect these townsfolk rarely give to outsiders. Me, I don't care." Elizabeth tucked a wisp of a curl that was blowing in her face behind her ear. "Luck seems to be with you though. You'll come out on top once again."

"What do you mean?"

"Rick wasn't Mary's first love." Nor her second... "So you needn't worry." Elizabeth walked away to begin her chores.

You think that, if it gives you comfort.

***

"Anne, if you don't need me right now," Cathy said as she walked down the steps. "I'm going to read with some of the girls."

"Thanks Cathy. I was trying to get Lizzy to do a read, but..."

"She doesn't have any children and doesn't know how to relate."

Have you never wondered why...?

"She doesn't want to, you mean."

Catherine shrugged.

"I just thought it might do her some good." Anne and Catherine looked at Elizabeth as she folded up the deck tables and put them in a wall locker. "But... she prefers to stay busy."

"Don't we all..." Cathy mumbled under her breath and rubbed her stomach. "Candace is going to read to us," she said aloud. "Would you like to join in?"

"No, thank you. I'll just go check on the weather and mind the boys."

"Alright." She waved her off and sat down in a chair.

Remember when Cathy first came to us, Anne? Hideous dress, teary-eyed, and slightly... tipsy. Definitely not one of us. I could never understand why Henry married her... I suppose it was her innocence. But innocence fades...

Anne stood where she was and watched her friend for a few minutes.