“I know.” Jane seemed untroubled. “Although they’re giving us free rings, too. Did I tell you that?”
“I’m sure some jewelry maker is doing it as part of an advertising deal.” But Liz could hear the cynicism in her tone, and, more gently, she added, “What do they look like?”
Jane laughed. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“I HAVE SOMETHING to tell you all,” Jane said into the speakerphone. “Actually, a few things.”
It was Thanksgiving Day, and Jane was back in New York. She and Liz were expected in two hours, along with a dish of marshmallow-topped sweet potatoes, at the Park Slope house of Liz’s editor, Talia. In Cincinnati, the Bennets would celebrate the holiday, as they often did, at the Lucases’. It had been after much prodding from Liz as well as Jane that their family members had assembled in advance of the Thanksgiving meal in Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s living room at the Grasmoor.
Jane hesitated, and Mr. Bennet said, “Do go on.”
Jane and Liz made eye contact, and Jane bit her lip and furrowed her brows. Liz nodded.
“I’m pregnant,” Jane said. There were then several family members exclaiming—it was difficult for Liz to determine if their exclamations were supportive or oppositional—and Jane said, “Wait, there’s more. The way I got pregnant is using an anonymous sperm donor. The baby is due in late February.”
In a high, emotional tone, Mrs. Bennet said, “Jane, I didn’t have the slightest idea you—”
“No,” Jane said. “There’s even more. I’m marrying Chip Bingley, and I know it might sound odd, but we’ve decided to let our wedding be filmed for an Eligible special. Even though the special won’t air until April, it’s supposed to happen very soon—this December eleventh to thirteenth in Palm Springs. The thing I want most in the world is for all of you to be there. Okay, now I’m finished.”
There was a cacophony of voices, and at last, Liz said, “It’s really hard to understand you guys unless you speak one at a time.”
“I thought Chip was back in Los Angeles, and you were living with those ladies in the country,” Mrs. Bennet said.
“He is,” Jane said. “And I have been, although I’m moving to L.A. But Chip came here to visit.”
“I wonder if they can film you just from the neck up,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Or they can do what they did when that curly-haired gal on the sitcom got pregnant, and you can carry a grocery bag in front of you.”
“My pregnancy won’t be a secret,” Jane said. “They’ll definitely show it.”
“Can they tell people the baby is Chip’s?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
“Aren’t you guys excited to be grandparents?” Liz said. “And aunts?”
“Jane, now that you mention it, your tits did get kind of huge before you left Cincinnati,” Lydia said.
“There’s no way I’m going on Eligible,” Mary said. “And why would you want to marry Chip? He has no backbone.”
“Mary, men get confused,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Chip comes from a lovely family, and he’ll make a devoted husband.”
Deploying a strategy she and Liz had discussed in advance, Jane said, “Mary, I was hoping you’d read a poem during the ceremony.”
“No,” Mary said.
“Jane, congratulations,” Ham said. “This is fantastic news.” Until he’d spoken, Liz hadn’t been certain he was present.
“As long as we’re making announcements,” Kitty said, “then I have one, too. I’m dating Shane now, so he should come with me.”
Simultaneously, Mr. Bennet said, “The realtor?” and Mrs. Bennet said, “The black man?”
“We’re expanding your horizons,” Kitty replied. “Welcome to the twenty-first century.”
“Then I also have an announcement,” Lydia said, and her voice sounded more tentative than usual. “Mary, I still don’t like you, but I shouldn’t have tried to force you out of the closet. Your gayness is your business.”
Snippily, Mary said, “I’m not gay.”
“She bowls,” Kitty said. “That’s what she does.”
In a shaky voice, Mrs. Bennet said, “Now what on earth is bowls?”
“As in bowling balls,” Kitty said. “The sport.”
“How do you know?” Mary asked, and Kitty said, “Mary, I’m your roommate now.”
Mr. Bennet cleared his throat. “Anyone else with a confession?” he said. “Lizzy?”
“Not today,” Liz said.
Mrs. Bennet said, “Jane, we’ll need to invite the Lucases and Hickmans and Nesbits to your wedding. Oh, and the Hoffs. They’d all be very hurt otherwise.”
“They’re only letting us invite twenty people,” Jane said.
“Everyone will know it was just immediate family, Mom,” Liz said. “The proof will be on TV.”
“You’ll all need to sign nondisclosure agreements, and the producers are very serious about them,” Jane said. “That means you can’t talk about the wedding before it airs. Especially not on social media, Kitty and Lydia. But something fun is that there’ll be wardrobe and makeup people to help us look great. Isn’t that neat?”
“Tell them my look is contemporary but classic,” Mrs. Bennet said. “And I don’t care for navy blue.”