First Impressions

Instead of waiting for Jane to call him (something she'd never do), Patrick took matters into his own hands and asked for her number. In the two weeks since the clam bake, he'd called her every few days and had met up with her five times, not counting the daily Bennet House breakfast or lunch pickups. Not that they were ever brief; usually Patrick would order whatever meal (highly protein based) once he got to town and then would linger and talk to Jane, even helping clean tables and serve drinks on occasion.

It was these gentlemanly actions that made the entirety of Longbourn forget about everything they'd heard of Patrick Kane before he arrived. Yes, he was still a good-looking, fun-loving and talented professional athlete, but no one cared about the booze, the scantily-cladded pictures, the arrest...and besides, after spending all his time with Jane, he surely could do no harm! 

Patrick took Jane to a movie, helped her run errands, and even volunteered with her at the local youth art camp. Mrs. Bennet insisted that while Jane had her normal duties at the cafe, it was perfectly acceptable to take as many "personal days" as she needed.

Even Lizzie had managed to put aside some of her doubts concerning Patrick. He was perfectly eager to get to know each and every one of Jane's younger sisters. So he'd sat down to lunch with Jane and Lizzie one day, diving in and practically begging them for their life stories. Then, he spent time explaining all of the sights and scenes of Chicago Lizzie would have to see since she would only be a train ride away in Evanston. Jane would "obviously have to come and visit," he declared. He'd even dealt with both Kit and Lydia's incessant giggling. And even Mary, who hardly came out of her shell, melted enough to teach Patrick how to duet "Heart and Soul" on the piano.

Patrick wasn't overly confident, however. He blushed just as much as Jane did when they were around one another. They referred to one another as "friends," despite everyone knowing there was much more to the story. And he hadn't even tried to hold Jane's hand, let alone kiss her. It was all slight contact; the brush of hands as they passed objects, the bump of knees when they sat close together, his arm reaching across the back of her chair, but barely touching her shoulders. 

It was this hesitation that appeared problematic in the eyes of Charlotte. 

"Mom forced me to drop by a plate of lemon bars yesterday," she told Lizzie as they laid out on their towels on the beach one afternoon. A ways down, Patrick, Jane and the rest of the Chi-townies had engaged in a casual game of sand volleyball. "And while I was waiting for Erica to get me the tray from the brownies I had dropped off last week-" to this, Lizzie chuckled. "-Oh shut up...I could hear Jonathan and Patrick talking in the office down the hall."

"What were they saying?" Lizzie looked over at her friend over the bridge of her tortoise shell aviators. 

"Well, Patrick was going on about how much he liked Jane-"

"Really!?" Lizzie clapped her hands in joy. "I mean, it was pretty obvious, but still-"

"-but that he's really anxious about screwing it up," Charlotte finished. "His exact words were 'she's too good to mess around with," and "I feel inadequate compared to such an amazing person.'"

"Lies. He did not say that." 

"Truth. I speak nothing but it!"

"Well, good for him, to realize that he can't take advantage of her," Lizzie smiled, gazing over as Patrick high-fived Jane after they'd gotten a point against Jonathan and Jessica. 

"But the fact of the matter is that he's trying," Charlotte pointed out. "Not taking advantage of her in a bad way, but still. He's making a solid effort to make something of their relationship, and Jane is..."

"Jane is what?"

"Jane...well, Jane is not." 

"That's not true!" Lizzie defended her sister. "She absolutely adores him!"

Jane was completely swept up in her courtship with Patrick, it was evidently clear to Lizzie every time she came home from one of their "dates" with a radiant smile on her face. Her dreamy tone of voice would recall every little detail of their time together, so much so, that Lizzie swore Jane kept a pocket diary to write notes such as "Patrick had rye bread today," or "He appeared clean-shaven on Saturday." 

"Jane adores everybody," Charlotte insisted. "I'm sure she loves him, but she should make it a bit more clear that she's interested in being more than just friends. Right now she laughs at his jokes and politely acknowledges his existence."

Loves him. Those were the two words in Charlotte's advice that set off whistles in Lizzie's mind. Jane had never been in love, but many men had been in love with her over the years. Lizzie herself had never been in love, either. She'd dated during her undergrad years at the University of Michigan, but never long-term. While she was practical, Lizzie deep down was a romantic at heart. And no one had yet swept her off her feet.

What did it mean to be in love, anyways? How did it feel? Lizzie had never known a clear example; her own parents were outliers on the compatibility scale, if they were even compatible at all. Sometimes, Lizzie feared that they stayed together for their daughters more than anything.

"Do you think Patrick loves her?" Lizzie asked Charlotte, eyes falling back to the couple. 

"While I've never believed in the concept of love at first sight," mused Charlotte. "I would have to say, yes. As in, yes, he appears to love her more than anything or anyone else in the world."