P&P

Chapter One

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife..." Or so they say. This so-called "universal truth", however, only appears to be evident by my overbearing mother. Let me give you an even greater truth.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a mom in possession of three daughters must be in want of three men to sweep them off their feet and take them far, far away from her house.

"Oh, come on! Mom's been begging you for weeks to go over there!" Lydia, my younger sister, cried to my father. He made no attempt to put down his newspaper or listen to a single one of us, as long as the subject at hand was being talked about. I didn't blame him.

"John, for Christ's sake!" My mother cried. "You know of my anxious nerves to get all the girls out of the house soon. If a job with amazing benefits never comes along for them, then a rich and single man surely will!"

"Mom, Lydia's not even out of high school yet." I told her with a pointed look. "And I just graduated high school!" My mother has been this irrational for most of my life. While other mom's teach their daughters to stand up for themselves and be independent, my mother encourages happiness in codependency like it's the cure for cancer.

What my mother was trying to make my father do was to go over to the mansion at Netherfield Park and introduce himself to Charles Bingley, who had just moved into town. Plus, the fact that he bought the biggest house in town quickly made him well known to absolutely everybody. The poor bastard could never have guessed what was to come with his new nosy neighbors.

He should've put this town in his rearview mirror when he had the chance.

"Fine. If I'm simply here to be condescended and mocked, then forget everything about Charles Bingley." My mother began. I rolled my eyes. Here we go again. "He'll probably find love elsewhere than with either of my two oldest daughters. He may be involved with Charlotte Lucas before the day is even over. How a girl as plain as her can even hold on to a man-"

"Mom!" I yelled at her to stop. Charlotte Lucas was my best friend, which my mother very well knows. Still, her opinion must be known to everyone, unfortunately. In cases that involved new job opportunities for us or rich single men or bashing others to make us look better, it was almost impossible to shut her up or change her mind.

"Charlotte is very beautiful." Jane, my older sister, told our mother. Even if she didn't mean it, she'd have said it with as much enthusiasm. There wasn't a single mean bone in that girl's body. She was perfect.

"I suppose I should just forget all about my girls' happiness." My mother continued as if nobody has spoken a word. "Damn that Charles Bingley for ever coming into this town! I hope I never have to see him and be reminded constantly what he's done to my family."

See what I mean about the irrational part?

"It's too bad." My father finally said behind his newspaper. "I met his father at the lake this morning. They'll be at the Knightley wedding this weekend, so there will be no escaping him now."

As my mother and two sisters squealed, I rolled my eyes again but a smirk couldn't help but overcome my lips. My father was known to do things just like that with my mom. He'd wind and wind and wind her up until the very moment she cracked, and then – surprise! – he tells us that he had actually done her original intention weeks ago.

It was unnervingly cute for their age.

"I wonder if he's cute." Jane told me later that night. We were on the porch swing with mugs of tea in our hands. "Not that I'm concerned with looks or anything, but I just can't help imagining what he's like." As my sister turned red, I suppressed a laugh. Along with being perfect in practically every aspect, she was also a hopeless romantic. Although I severely doubted the hopeless part. She always seemed to get the guy she wanted. The only reason her relationships ever ended was because both parties either saw that they weren't suited for one another or the timing just wasn't right. It was disturbingly cordial.