Little Women and Me

Twenty-One


A few weeks had passed and I was still living between worlds: spending part of the time at Aunt March’s with Amy, and the rest of the time back home.

There was constant chatter about the possibility of Papa returning now that his health was improving, and I wondered what it would be like to come face-to-face with the one remaining family member I’d supposedly known my whole life and yet never met, but no specific date was on the calendar.

Now that Marmee had returned and Beth had turned her dark corner—Three cheers for Beth! as Jo might say—the household had rearranged itself once more. Beth could actually lie on the sofa in the study now, playing with her cats and sewing clothes for her dolls. I’d kept my silent vow to never think another bad thought about the headless and limbless Joanna and even gave an outward showing of this newly turned leaf by praising the garment Beth had sewn for her: a gown with a high-necked collar that somehow served to emphasize the lack of head.

“Joanna looks extremely happy in that,” I told Beth.

“How can you tell?” Beth asked.

“By her smile, of course,” I said. “Joanna always smiles like that when she’s particularly happy about something. It’s like the sun coming out.”

Beth seemed particularly happy herself at my words, my willingness to finally play along.

Now that we were into the shortest days of the year, Jo’d taken to lifting Beth up in her arms, blanket and all. Then she would carry Beth around from window to window so she could see cheerful nature and the changes in the out-of-doors.

I had to grudgingly give Jo credit, for being generous and for being strong enough to carry her. One time when Jo was out of the room, I tried, and nearly dropped Beth.

Beth had lost so much weight it occurred to me that if my friends in the twenty-first century knew how effortlessly scarlet fever peeled away the pounds, they’d probably do anything to catch the disease. Hmm … maybe I could somehow take a vial of scarlet fever–infected blood with me when I time traveled back home? I’d probably be rich and famous!

Not that I seemed likely to time travel back home anytime soon. I was beginning to wonder if I was doomed to remain here forever.

I pushed that thought away.

And in the meantime, while I was here, I focused my attentions on Laurie.



My mom used to say that when a guy teased a girl it meant that he secretly liked her. I’d never believed that warped little theory, since whenever any boy teased me it seemed to only mean that he hated my guts. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe Jo had been right and there was some sort of weird chemistry between Laurie and Meg?

I was thinking this because Laurie had played a prank on Meg.

Laurie, being Laurie, took what little he did know about John Brooke and Meg and made a big mess out of everything. He forged two love letters to Meg, and she’d actually replied to one. When it all got out, there was much hand-wringing on her part. First Meg was upset that Mr. Brooke had written to her in such an “indiscreet” fashion. Then she was upset with herself for writing back in an even more indiscreet way. Personally, I’d have loved to see those letters. What could a man who’d stolen a girl’s glove as a romantic memento put in an indiscreet letter—“I find your ankles, when glimpsed beneath the bottom of your voluminous skirts, irresistible”? And what could my prissy older sister possibly have replied that made her blush—“I do love the idea of you looking at my ankles, but do wait until I am a bit older before gazing at them so forthrightly”? The mind reeled. Finally, Meg freaked when she discovered Laurie had written those letters after all, and that Laurie had read her reply.

And now Marmee was upset by all of the above.

Basically, she reamed Laurie out. How could he do such a thing? What sort of friend was he to either Meg or his tutor to think that such behavior was acceptable?

And then everyone else piled on.

Laurie seemed appropriately ashamed of himself. In fact, when he headed for the door, I could have sworn I saw a tail sticking between his legs.

“Do you think, perhaps,” Jo said once the door had closed, “we were a little too hard on him?”

“Too hard?” Marmee looked like she didn’t know what to do with such a comment. Unlike in my real life, where my sisters and I constantly pushed back when our mother yelled at us about something, I’d never seen any of the March girls push back against Marmee. Her and her pontifications: they were judge and executioner around here.

“It’s just that,” Jo went on, “it is only Teddy. He never means any harm, even if he does sometimes cause it. Plus, it was sort of my fault for acting as though I had a secret, forcing him to angle for it.”

“I suppose … possibly …”

It was the closest I’d ever heard Marmee admit to being even remotely mistaken about anything.

“I know!” Jo said brightening. “I have a book I need to return to his grandfather. I’ll bring it now and while I’m there, I’ll just stay around long enough until I run into him, and then I’ll fix everything. If I know anything, it’s how to handle Teddy.”

HA!

She left the room, returning a moment later with a heavy-looking volume.

“I’ll go with you,” I promptly said, grabbing on to one end of the book.

“Oh no, you won’t,” Jo said, tugging the book back. “I hardly think it requires two people to return a single book.”

“It’s a heavy book,” I pointed out, grabbing the end again. “Besides,” I added, “remember our pact!”

“It’s been a long time since you brought that up,” Jo seethed.

“Yeah, well,” I said, “we have had a few other things on our minds around here lately.”

“Oh, fine,” Jo said. “We’ll go together. But it will look ridiculous if we walk all the way over there with each of us holding on to the end of a single book.”

And then she yanked the book out of my grip so swiftly and violently, I swore I suffered book burn.

“Let me do the talking,” I whispered as we approached the Laurence household.

“You?” Jo said, straining to sound equally hushed but failing. “But this was all my idea!”

“I know that,” I said, still the voice of cool and quiet reason, “but you’re always saying impulsive things, always getting so hotheaded. I know you think you know how to manage Laurie, but really, you only think that. I happen to know that if given half the chance you’ll louse this whole thing up and make matters worse.”

“Harrumph,” Jo harrumphed as we jointly knocked on the door. “We’ll see about that,” she added as the door opened and we stepped over the threshold.



Yes, Laurie’s house was big, but it wasn’t so big that Laurie could have gotten lost in it. Still, after jointly returning the book to his grandfather, it took us a long time to find him. He finally answered the door to his bedroom when we knocked on our third round through the house.

“I’m thinking of running away,” he announced.

“We’re sorry we all reacted so strongly,” Jo said before I had a chance to get a word in. “We know you didn’t mean any harm. You were simply being you.”

Oh, there’s a way to make someone feel better, I thought, rolling my eyes. Tell them they can’t be blamed for being a jerk because it comes naturally to them.

“It’s not that.” Laurie dismissed her concerns. “Or at least it’s not all that.”

“What is it then?” I rushed to ask before Jo got the chance to. Hey, I could act concerned too!

Apparently, in addition to being ashamed of what he’d done, Laurie was now upset at something his grandfather had done.

“He could tell something was wrong when I came home,” Laurie said. “But when I would not tell him the cause—because I couldn’t do that, could I? That would be giving away the secret regarding Mr. Brooke and Meg—he, he, he …”

“He what?” Jo prompted. You could see she had no patience for anybody with a speech impediment.

“He shook me,” Laurie said. “Physically, he shook me.”

I had to admit, I’d heard of shaken baby syndrome, a form of child abuse back home, but I’d never heard of shaken teenage-boy syndrome before. And I had to further admit, it didn’t sound all that bad. After all, Mr. Laurence was an old man. How hard could he have shaken Laurie? Surely not hard enough to do any real damage.

What a wuss Laurie was sometimes. An adorable wuss, of course.

“Of course, the shaking wasn’t the worst part,” Laurie said.

“I see,” I said sympathetically, when really I saw nothing. If he wasn’t upset about the shaking, then just what was he upset about?

“It’s that he always treats me like a child,” Laurie said.

Ah, that I could understand.

“When I am nearly a man,” Laurie said.

Yes, he did look pleasingly masculine when he said that.

“So I am thinking of running away.”

And back to being a child again.

Wasn’t Laurie seventeen now? What sort of seventeen-year-old boy talks about running away?

I thought about the seventeen-year-olds I knew back home at Wycroft Academy. What would they be doing now? Nearly all of them would be driving, most would be thinking about which colleges to go to. Some would have part-time jobs. They’d have girlfriends. They’d have done a lot with those girlfriends.

And what was Laurie doing? Whining about getting shaken by his grandfather and talking about running away.

People were soooo retro back in this century.

“I’m thinking of going to Washington,” Laurie said firmly. The way he puffed out his chest—just like that, I was finding him manly again.

It was amazing sometimes, the seesaw effect Laurie had on my attraction toward him.

“Will you go with me, Jo?” he said.

Jo???

Before I got a chance to say “Don’t you mean Emily too?” Jo was already speaking.

“That’s the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard!” she crowed. Then she at least had the sense to look embarrassed at her outburst. “That is to say, of course I would love to go with you.”

What?

“But I’m afraid I cannot,” she went on. “It would be such fun to go to Washington with you—such a lark! But I cannot leave Beth and you must not leave your grandfather, not over some silly disagreement. Now then.” She headed for the door. “I will go speak to your grandfather and get him to apologize. Would that set everything straight?”

“It would help,” Laurie said, still looking bitterly wounded, “but I cannot imagine you will meet with success.”

“You’d be surprised how persuasive I can be,” Jo said. “Emily?”

“Hmm?”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“I think you can handle this one yourself,” I said. “You’re so good at managing people. And anyhow, it’s hardly a two-person job, is it? Not like carrying a really heavy book.”

I could tell she wanted to remind me of the pact, but she couldn’t very well do that in front of Laurie, so she slammed the door and off she went, no doubt fuming all the way.

And then Laurie and I were alone.

Laurie locked the door, causing me to raise an eyebrow at him. He shrugged. “Habit,” he said. “I hate it when the servants just barge in.”

“Those barging servants can be so annoying,” I said, if only for something to say.

“I can’t imagine that even Jo can get Grandfather to apologize,” Laurie said. “He’s never apologized for anything in his life.”

“What will you do if he doesn’t apologize?”

Laurie squared his shoulders. “I’ll run away. To Washington.”

“By yourself? Mr. Brooke can’t accompany you because he’s already in Washington, with Papa, and Jo already said she wouldn’t. As for your grandfather, you can’t ask him to go with you since there’s no point in running away if you take what you’re running away from with you.”

Laurie looked less sure of himself now, shoulders a little less square. Still …

“I’ll go by myself then,” he said with a forced confidence.

Suddenly a thought occurred to me and with it, a shyness I’d never felt in my life. What if I put myself on the line and got shot down?

“I could go with you,” I offered.

“You?”

He looked surprised at my suggestion, but at least he didn’t look horrified. That had to be a good sign, right?

“Yes. Me.” As I spoke, I grew more confident, more excited at the idea. “I could go see Papa while we’re there.” I liked the idea of meeting and getting to know this stranger parent for the first time away from the eyes of my sisters. “And it’s not as though we’d be away forever.”

Although it would give us time to bond without Jo or Amy around, I thought.

What an adventure this could be.

Road trip!

“I can’t believe you’d do this for me,” Laurie said.

Hmm … Stick around here, or go on an adventure to the country’s capital with a hot boy who I knew wouldn’t put any moves on me I wasn’t ready for … Such a tough choice to make …

I’d been to Washington on a field trip once in eighth grade, but I’d never been there during the American Civil War! Maybe I’d meet Lincoln!

“I don’t know what to say,” Laurie said softly when I said nothing.

Then he took a step toward me.

“What are you doing?” Without thinking, I took a step back.

He took another step forward.

The way he was looking intently at my eyes … “Is there something in my eye?” I wiped at them with my hands as I took another step back.

He took another step forward. “Stand still, please, Emily,” he said.

Then he leaned toward me, his face slowly but steadily closing the space between us until his lips were just a breath away from mine and then he closed that space as well.

I don’t know how long we stood like that, but it seemed like a very long moment, lips just touching lips, with no other movement.

I can’t say it was unpleasant, but it wasn’t particularly pleasant either. It was just that, two sets of lips touching.

At last, Laurie pulled away.

“Thank you,” Laurie said formally. “Ever since that day you, um, threw yourself at me, I have been curious—you know, what that would feel like if I initiated it myself. And then when you said you would go to Washington with me, I was so grateful, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to try it.”

I didn’t know what to make of this.

“I hope I didn’t offend you,” Laurie said.

What?

“Oh. No. No. I wasn’t offended.”

But did I want to do it again? Did he want to do it again? I wasn’t sure. Because as much as I had thought I wanted to kiss Laurie, something had been missing in that kiss, and not just on his part, but on mine as well.

I did think the idea was nice, the idea of kissing someone who probably hadn’t already kissed a million other girls before just for the sake of kissing them.

I was standing there wondering if he’d try to kiss me again—perhaps we could both try to put more feeling into it this time?—when there was an insistent pounding at the door, and Jo shouted:

“Will you let me in? Oh, very well. I guess I’ll shove it under the door.”

In the next instant a sheet of paper came flying through the narrow gap between door and floor.

Laurie left me to go to the paper. He picked it up, turned it over, read. Then his face lit up and he unlocked the door, throwing it open wide.

“I can’t believe you accomplished this, Jo!” he said. “You really are the most amazing girl! But how did you ever get him to apologize? And in writing!”

Jo launched herself into a long-winded tale of her discussion with Mr. Laurence. I barely caught a word, still too busy thinking about that kiss.

When Jo finally paused long enough to take a breath, I turned to Laurie.

“So,” I said, “when do we leave for Washington?”

“Washington?” he echoed.

Odd. They both seemed so far away from me now.

“Yes, Washington,” I said. “You know, our trip? Our adventure?”

Laurie looked entirely puzzled by this.

“I’m sorry, Emily,” he finally spoke, “but now that Grandfather’s apologized, in writing, no less—how did you do it, Jo?—there’s really no point in my running away, is there?”



That night Jo found some paper covered with Meg’s handwriting. She’d written Mrs. John Brooke over and over again.

Jo grew extremely angsty over this, worried that the future was being hastened. I didn’t even bother trying to comfort her. She’d already loused up enough things for me for one day. And besides, I wondered, when would the future finally “hasten” for me?