was not up to Liz to divulge or conceal it; but on one topic, Liz was unhappy with her own lack of discretion.
“You know Chip’s sister Caroline, don’t you?” Anne asked near the end of the hour, and Liz said, “Yes, I know Caroline Bingley.”
“What’s your opinion of her?”
Liz was tired, both from traveling—it was midnight Eastern time—and from answering Anne’s questions.
“She’s fine,” Liz said.
“You sound kind of tepid,” Anne said, and, as ever, her tone was friendly. “Are you sure that’s how you feel?”
“Caroline Bingley is charming,” Liz said in a jokingly posh voice. “She’s delightful.” Then she looked directly at the camera guy and said, “Don’t use that.”
“Why don’t you want him to use it?” Anne asked. “Are you being sarcastic?”
Simultaneously, Liz felt regret surge through her, and she felt a desire to speak candidly to Anne—to say, I’m exhausted. I need to go back to my room and sleep. I don’t like Caroline Bingley, but surely you can understand how publicly disparaging my sister’s new sister-in-law will only create problems that will long outlast your television special. As one professional woman to another, let’s strike that from the record.
“Did something happen between you and Caroline?” Anne said.
Liz shook her head. “I do like Caroline,” she said. “I’m kidding around.”
“Do you find her bitchy?” Anne asked. “I’ve heard that some people find her bitchy.”
Liz laughed. She couldn’t help it. She said, “Which people?”
“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