Searching for Mr. Darcy

Scene Forty-Three

The hallway off the front door was filled with boxes. A very narrow sliver of carpet had been left bare as a walkway into the apartment. Maisie squeezed her way through, biting back an urgent need to remind her friend, that she (Maisie) wasn't as skinny as her (Talia).

The living room was filled with boxes and bags. Bags on the couch - on top of Talia's precious babies - boxes on the coffee table and all over the floor. Some stacked, some half-unpacked with contents strewn on the carpet in front of them.

The kitchen was filled with crates. I guess she did run out of boxes, Maisie thought. The crates were filled with bubbled-wrapped dishes and mugs and bake wear Talia had never used.

The apartment was filled with her stuff, but Talia was nowhere to be found.

Maisie went to her room to change and lay down, but found that it, too, was stuffed with her best friend's possessions. She signed and grabbed the closest item - a lamp - and picked her way through the chaos to the spare room. It, of course, was empty except for Talia's bed, dresser, and vanity.

"Naturally." Maisie set the lamp on the bed and went back to her room for more. Once she'd transferred everything and finally laid down, the front door swung open and a laughing Talia and George came in. Maisie stood to shut her door against the noise, but was too slow and her friends saw her before she could close it.

"You're back!" Talia said. She checked her watch. "We weren't expecting you yet. What happened with the mortgage lender?"

"Once he found out what I did for a living we ceased being on a date. I did learn a lot about new programs for first time home buyers, though." Maisie rolled her eyes.

"That sucks," George said. "I thought it would be good that you had something in common with him."

"What, work? I'm not super interested in dating anyone from the industry."

"Why not?"

Maisie shrugged. "It's like that expression 'don't shit where you eat.' It just doesn't seem like a good idea."

"Hey!" Talia exclaimed, poking her head into Maisie's room. "Where'd all my stuff go?"

"Your room," Maisie answered.

"No! I haven't figured out where everything is supposed to go yet. It'll be so much harder to organize with a room full of stuff."

"Imagine how difficult it is to take a nap with a room full of someone else's stuff," Maisie said.

Talia crossed her arms. "We weren't expecting you back yet. I would have had it all cleared out before you got back."

"But you didn't, because I was back and you weren't even here. It's fine - I just want to take a short nap and forget about the awful business meeting I hadn't planned having today, and then we can have dinner and play Settlers.  Where are Aubrey and Kent?"

"Kent threw his back out," George said, taking a step closer to Maisie.  She wondered if he was trying to play the mediator between her and Talia, who still looked upset that Maisie had interrupted her organizational system.  "And we-" he gestured to himself and Talia, "were coming back to start the unpacking process.  We'll do that, you take your nap, and we'll let you know when it's time for dinner."

"I can help," Maisie said.

"No, you should rest," Talia said, her voice slightly cold.  Maisie couldn't understand why her friend was being so dramatic.  After all, it was Maisie who'd come home to find her entire apartment had become the site of a disorganized estate sale.

"I want to help," Maisie reiterated.  "You've helped me so much these past couple of weeks.  Let me help you now."

Talia's stern face softened.  "Thank you.  That would be great."

George clapped his hands together in a 'let's go' motion.  "Perfect.  Where do we start?"