“It’s just the word on the street.”
Again, Liz was tempted to acknowledge the preposterousness of the conversation, to say, I understand exactly what you’re trying to do. Instead, firmly, she said, “Well, I’ve always gotten along well with Caroline.”
On returning to her room, Liz looked up Frankenbiting online. There were many search results, they went back as far as 2004, and the term meant exactly what she’d thought it did.
“LIZZY, I DON’T know why you never got married,” Lydia said. “It’s really fun. I make steak for Ham when he’s finished teaching at night and I totally feel like a grown-up.”
Shortly after the Cincinnati contingent’s arrival at the Hermoso Desert Lodge—they were a party of seven, counting not only the Bennets but also Ham and Shane—Lydia and Kitty had come to inspect their sisters’ quarters. On the same hall, Lydia and Ham were sharing a room, as were Kitty and Shane; Mary had been assigned her own room, which made Liz wonder why she herself hadn’t, until she recalled Anne Lee’s remark about the Pelco camera capturing her and Jane’s “fun, casual” conversations. Liz was newly determined to provide no such thing.
Jane was away, but Lydia and Kitty had made themselves at home on her bed, in spite of the fact that Liz was sitting at the desk, laptop open, trying to finish writing the toast she would deliver at the reception.
Without looking up, Liz said, “When I started working full-time and paying my rent is when I felt like a grown-up. And that was, hmm…” She pretended to calculate “Sixteen years ago.”
“Don’t you want someone to come home to at night?” Lydia said. “I’d be so bored living alone.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you don’t.”
“If Jane’s baby turns out cute,” Lydia said, “maybe Ham and I will use the same sperm donor she did.”
“Your kids will be doubly related,” Kitty said. “That’s weird.”
“It’s just some dude’s jizz,” Lydia said. “He won’t be part of their lives. Anyway, sometimes two brothers marry two sisters, and their kids are double cousins. Jessica and Rachel Finholt married brothers.”
“I hate Jessica Finholt,” Kitty said. “In kindergarten, she stole my Raggedy Ann out of my cubby.” Kitty was paging through a brochure that had been lying on the nightstand. “Do we have to pay for spa services here?”
Liz glanced over her shoulder. “I’m sure.”
“It’s such a waste that Jane is getting married on Eligible when she doesn’t even watch it,” Lydia said. “Don’t you think Ham and I would make a good reality-TV show?”
She wasn’t wrong, which wasn’t the same as the idea being a wise one. Mildly, so as not to encourage Lydia, Liz said, “I bet living with all those cameras would annoy you guys.” She stood. “Both of you follow me.” She walked into the bathroom, and Lydia and Kitty looked quizzically at each other. Lydia said, “Are you going to teach us how to do monthly self-exams of our boobs?”
“Just come here,” Liz said.
When they’d joined her, she closed the door and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Did you notice that camera hanging in the corner of the room?” she said. “Don’t say anything the whole time you’re here that you don’t want to be on TV. I’m serious.”
“Like what?” Lydia asked.
The lecture was probably, at best, useless; at worst, it could promote the opposite of the behavior Liz hoped to encourage.
“The producers don’t care if we look good or bad,” Liz said. “All they’re trying to do is create TV that people want to watch. Just don’t say anything nasty about anyone else, and don’t pick fights.” It was hard not to think of the intemperate remarks she herself had made the night before about Caroline Bingley. “They’ll be looking for conflict.”
Lydia laughed. “I doubt they’ll have to look that hard.”
Liz sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Do what you want. But I warned you.”
IN HER PARENTS’ room, Liz found her mother bustling about and her father sitting in an armchair, an enormous hardcover book about the Renaissance open on his lap. The room contained just one king-sized bed; surely, Liz thought, it would be the first time in years her parents had slept beneath the same sheets.
From the bathroom, her mother said, “I can’t find the hair dryer. When I called the front desk, they said it’s here, but, Lizzy, they forgot to give us one.”
Liz entered the bathroom and pointed to the shelf below the sink. “It’s right there, Mom.”
Irritably, Mrs. Bennet said, “Well, it wasn’t there before.” As she picked it up, she added, “I think it’s much better if they say Jane’s baby is Chip’s. People who are watching will be confused otherwise.”
“Have you seen Jane yet?” Liz asked. “She looks good, doesn’t she?”
With great confidence, Mrs. Bennet said, “She’s carrying low. That means a boy.” In the hushed tone she used for delicate matters, Mrs. Bennet said, “Liz, I don’t know if Kitty and Shane are serious, but life can be very hard for mulatto children.”