Soli Deo gloria
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Pride and Prejudice. Or Frozen. Or The Lizzie Bennet Diaries. I just really love this web series. A lot.
"Your private jet going out of commission is a real sure-fire bummer, huh?" Lizzie was once again trying out witticisms against her poor boyfriend, who really felt terrible (though to show his distress to Lydia, Charlotte, and the hysterics-prone Mrs. Bennet and patient Mr. Bennet, he must not). But one look at his stone-set face made her press her lips together and squeeze his hand.
They were sitting in grey chairs in an airport. Mrs. Bennet had a fan blowing in her face, setting one of her famous hats aflutter in the breeze; Mr. Bennet kept his nose hidden in the folds of a catalog advertising a train convention in New York, where hence they were traveling cross-country to; and Lydia was passing the terrible wait time until their flight was to be boarded by taking endless selfies and making a video with Charlotte, who kept trying to get back to her phone to warn Ricky that her visit to Jane was a 'vacation' and not a 'business trip' and that 'would he please not call her for the next week, thanks'.
Lizzie could hardly sit still next to Darcy, who sat quite the contrary to her; he sat like a statue. Then again, he never gave in to such female tendencies such as totally freaking out about your sister getting engaged to the ever-lovely-and-tender Bing Lee.
It had been a relatively normal, bright Monday late afternoon when Lizzie picked up her phone after spending hours returning intern emails to hear the delighted voice of sweet Jane, whose voice kept getting tangled with Bing's, who had a laugh in his words as he tried to talk over his future bride. Lizzie could barely interrupt them, she was so excited. But hardly had she received such joyous news but her mother should approach the kitchen to make some fabulous dessert for a dinner party for some rich young associate of Mr. Bennet's. Lizzie had dashed out of the kitchen, run into Lydia, who picked up the phone, had Jane explain why she was laughing and crying at the same time, and then tactlessly dropped the bomb on the unassuming Mrs. Bennet.
In conclusion, the next day had the Bennets, Charlotte, and Darcy on their way to New York. Unfortunately, Darcy, who had volunteered the ride for the party, had a malfunctioning plane. He'd gotten the news while making his coffee in his penthouse apartment at five AM and rushed out. Needless to say, it was eleven in the morning now, Darcy was thoroughly exhausted, and they weren't even on their ride yet.
"This is going to sound quite impertinent, Lizzie, so don't take it the wrong way," Darcy said, meeting her eyes.
She smiled a little. "Let's hear it."
"I don't think I can stand your family for the next ten hours or so, much less spend an entire week with them."
"Here's the thing, though," Lizzie said, straightening in her seat, "the only way for you to not be with my family for the next week is if they die. That's not going to happen. Any time soon, anyway. And"—sigh—"I know this is asking a lot of you, to go to New York just to see Jane and Bing—"
"Going and congratulating my best friend and future sister-in-law is nothing short of a pleasure, Lizzie Bennet," Darcy said sincerely, squeezing her hand. Lizzie felt a thrill run through her when the full subtext of his sentence hit her. "It pleases you and your family and isn't a bother at all. I am just worried over your mother, and what her reaction when she sees them will be, and your youngest sister, Lydia, running all over New York." He waved his hand about, gesticulating to show Lizzie what his words meant when he really couldn't say exactly what he meant; he sighed and shrugged.
"I'll be the first to say that this trip is going to be long, and tiring, and at some point we're going to be stuffing cotton balls in our ears and praying for a lightning bolt to come out of the heavens and strike us down right then and there, and there's nothing I can do about my family, but if it makes you feel any better, I can't thank you enough. Seems like I'm always thanking you for your thoughtfulness, which is always done behind the scenes. You don't favor public displays where you're made known as the benefactor, do you? Why—why is that?" Lizzie said, leaning a little closer to him.
Darcy's eyes looked up and down and behind Lizzie and at the ground and then finally met her eyes. Needless to say, he felt extremely pleased by her acknowledgement and gratefulness, and if he wasn't William Darcy, he would blush—blush fiercely. "Well, I feel that if one merely does good deeds for the sake of being seen as a purveyor of good deeds does so only for the attention. I do good deeds because it is a good thing to do, but . . . people have the reliable ability to always look for ulterior motives, and so though I perform good deeds for the sake of doing good, they would see it as a rich man earning public favor."
"Well, I see you behind your good deeds. I appreciate the man behind the good deeds." Lizzie smiled and snuggled her head against his shoulder. Her eyes averted, she couldn't catch the little pleased smile playing across Darcy's face. He no longer looked as the holder of some grand burden on his shoulders. He instead played a very popular, a very 'in', game on his phone.
But finally, their flight was called, and the Bennet party rose and moved as a captivating, individualistic group. Mrs. Bennet dragged Mr. Bennet forward, like an excited Chihuahua carrying its owner forward on a leash; Lydia hurried on with a spring in her confident step and a pleased smile on her face. Her body, however, faced the wrong direction as she walked; she was paying more attention to her phone's camera (videos to Cousin Mary DON'T make themselves) than to what stood behind her. Charlotte acted as a keeper of the peace and made sure Lydia didn't run down an old couple or cause someone's suitcase to spill open upon impact. And then followed up Darcy and Lizzie, both burdened with lots of excessive baggage that must remain with her mother during their flight.
Tickets were wearily shown and they pushed through, loading into first-class. Fortunately, first class had its pros to make up for its non-privateness. The windows let in warm sunlight and the seats were soft and leathery. Darcy and Lizzie hastened in hiding the baggage out of sight, out of mind, and then Lizzie wrung her hands and said, "Is that it?"
"Let us hope your mom didn't forget anything. I fear she has the power to turn the entire plane around," Darcy said grimly as he gave one last smash against a purse.
"If it comes to that, we can buy her a new toothbrush in New York," Lizzie said, dismissively waving her hand at the probability of her mother going into a state of hysterics for the smallest thing missing.
"Oh, that fixes everything; if her sentimentality for her toothbrush is not too great, we'll be in fine shape," Darcy said smartly, as he offered the window seat to Lizzie. She curtsied to his gesture and took the seat.
The seat gave her such a view of the runaway. Lizzie took a delight in seeing the world this way, by plane; she was looking forward to watching the minuscule lakes and fields pass by, the skyscrapers of major US cities disappear like tiny little bugs. She settled back in her seat and said to Darcy, who was shifting about, trying to find a comfortable position, "Flying gives you a perspective of the world."
Darcy nodded, peering out of the window. "It's funny," he said, "how some distance makes everything seem small."
"And the fears that once controlled me, can't get to me at all!" Lizzie said, laughing, in a sing-songy voice.
Darcy realized what he had subconsciously uttered two seconds too late as Lydia popped over the seat and sang along with her sister, and he realized 'dear goodness, what have I done?' when Charlotte joined them for the chorus, and his head leaned against his hand and he pretended to not be a part of this party at all as they continued with their singing, laughing and using funny voices. Frozen, he realized, had too many trigger words for this family, who took everything to the extra mile.
Finally, he peeked through his fingers to see the last note sung and the triumphant smile on Lizzie's face. Lydia fell back in her seat, covering her mouth in vain to cover peals of laughter. "Really, Darcy, I thought you were smarter than that," Lizzie said, shaking her head and reaching behind her head to pull her hair back into a ponytail. "Surely you should have known better."
Darcy said, after a moment of staring at her, "I know now for certain what to not say around you. Believe me, from what I have stockpiled from our various conversations after watching that infamous film, I have garnered a list of trigger words which I am not to utter in any general vicinity of you, Lydia, Jane, Charlotte, Maria, or Gigi."
"Gigi likes Frozen too? That's cool. Who's her favorite character? And does she know all of the songs? Does she agree that Hans is a jerkface but super pretty?" Lizzie said all this very calmly, in a business-like manner.
Darcy breathed in deeply. "I am not going to dignify any of those questions with an answer. If I do, I shall continue this conversation, which is now in my top ten things to NOT do."
"Guess what I'm going to be watching on the way there?" Lydia said, peeping around the chair to blink innocently at Darcy's 500% done face.
"I could afford a few guesses," Darcy said.
Lizzie grinned and leaned over and clasped his hand in hers as Lydia gabbed away until she was back in her seat. Darcy turned back to Lizzie, his hand over hers, and said, "She's quite gotten her tongue back."
"A few months' worth of living at home and hanging out with her family has done her a world of good," Lizzie said softly. Her sister would never go back to being her sweet, mischievous little sister, but her pep had come back from weeks of sagging face, broken spirit, being the pale version of the alive Lydia Bennet. She grew up, certainly, in those months, and discovered that her sisters weren't nearly as uptight and critical as she thought them. She found that after all, they were great listeners and comforters for sleepless nights. Them and plenty of cups of cocoa did her wonders.
"Which I am happy to hear," Darcy said.
"Thank you, again," Lizzie said sincerely.
"Forget about it, Lizzie," Darcy said quietly, "the past is in the past. No need for rehashing." Only then, he realized his mistake in making the especial reference to that song again, and as Lizzie began to start with the chorus of that accursed, catchy song, Darcy put a finger to her lips and said imploringly, "Have mercy on an old man, Lizzie Bennet."
"Old? You're not that old," Lizzie said. She leaned back and said with that little twist to her smile, "You're only thirty-one."
"That is considered old in Lydia's book, anyway," he said.
Lizzie scoffed. "Anything older than twenty-two is older than the hills for Lydia. Believe me, don't use her logic to determine contrasts and comparisons."
"Thank goodness you warned me beforehand of that before I thought that a possibility," Darcy said banteringly.
The stewardess came down the aisle and instructed all what to do in case of emergency, such as the plane crashing down in a raging vortex with little-to-no-chance of survival with the air pressure pounding and ten seconds to live. The stewardess smiled like a foreboding prophetess and disappeared into the pilot's cabin.
Darcy and Lizzie and Charlotte stared after her retreating form had disappeared entirely from sight. "That was an oddly specific worse-case scenario," Charlotte said.
Lizzie nodded, stuck in a daze. "That possibility wasn't even in the range of possible, right?" She searched for a sign of 'of course not!' from Charlotte and Darcy, but their stupefied faces betrayed to her their answer. She turned back in her seat dazed and slightly perturbed.
In the meantime, the pilot called for lift-off, and the airplane made its ascension into the sky, leaving the Earth small, plain, with spots of lakes and rivers, green fields and tiny pinpoints that were dwelling places to many a human family. The conversation was kept on a minimum as everyone was leaning out a window and gazing and gasping and questioning their own morality as the clouds became the other cars on the road and birds were tiny pieces of flesh and blood and chemical processes passing by in a second.
Darcy felt riding a plane as normal as any normal person considered riding a car normal. He opened up his newspaper and wore reading glasses, seemingly ignorant of the miraculous phenomenon happening just outside his window.
When the plane was set in its path and the stewardess told the passengers that they were free to walk about the cabin, Lydia took that inch and ran a mile with it, bounding down the aisle of the first-class cabin like a new spring lamb, smiling cheerfully like shadows didn't darken her, and went exploring the other cabins, much to the horror of Lizzie and the sighs of Mr. Bennet.
"Wait—" Lizzie sat on her knees, back to the window, her hand clasped against her chest. "She isn't allowed to do that, is she?"
"It's ill-advised, yes," Charlotte said, "though I don't know about the legality about it."
"Yeah," Lizzie said, looking worried.
"There's no rule saying she can't," Darcy said. Aside from that final comment, he seemed completely absorbed by baseball scores and the usual reports of stupid politics, rising stocks, and car crashes.
"Oh, let the child go! She has such ENERGY! It's a mercy if she doesn't take a seat the entire flight!" Mrs. Bennet said. She sighed dramatically and rearranged her hat. "Mr. Bennet, this is ENTIRELY too exciting for me! Oh, dearest Jane and Bing! Oh, the speed by which they were engaged was tedious, yes, mind you, Mr. Bennet, and the heartache and constant headaches it cost me, but oh, Mr. Bennet, it shall be all SO worth it to see our beloved Jane! Oh, to LIVE for that moment, Mr. Bennet. I shall fetch myself some rest so I am entirely composed for dear Jane when we come to New York," and with this, Mrs. Bennet leaned back against a pillow that snaked around her shoulders and covered her eyes with a feathery mask and proceeded to snore audibly so the entire cabin couldn't help but stare begrudgingly at her.
With Lydia off scurrying like a squirrel all by her lonesome self, the other four passengers in that first-class cabin fell to their own devices. Mr. Bennet fell to the trap of old age and gave in to a nap next to his missus, though one not quite filled with snores. Charlotte wrote down busily in a notebook and also made notes on a binder. For obvious reasons, she had an entire row to herself. How she balanced these books so easily was a great mystery—the armrests were only so wide.
Then Lizzie resumed sitting like a normal person and pulled out her old red leather-jacketed diary. Dog-eared and stained, crinkled and coffee-stained, doodled upon and wrinkled, it was as much a beloved keepsake as anything. Even now she wrote in it with a ballpoint pen gifted to her by Ricky Collins with it propped against the bend of her elbow, hidden even from the sight of her boyfriend, whose interest in the newspaper dwindled to nothing as his attentions turned over to her and her attempts at security for her private thoughts.
"What are you writing about, Lizzie Bennet?" Darcy inquired after moments of wondering if he should even inquire at all.
Lizzie made no move to remove her attention from her diary. "I am filling in the blanks. I'm writing down a documentation of yesterday for me to look back on. I realized that someday I won't have these days anymore. This is a way of preservation. So years from now I'll remember what I was thinking the moment I heard that my sister was engaged."
"Would you say you're sentimental, Lizzie?" Darcy wondered.
Lizzie did look up and over her shoulder at his shining eyes now. "To a certain extent. When I disconnect myself from my emotional attachments and look at a situation from a logical, sensible point of view, I can be practical, cold, and like a statue. But I like looking back on memories with fondness rather than sensibility. So in annoyance, William, I could call myself slightly sentimental."
From her video diaries and now this, Darcy, a logical, deductive man, had quickly come to this conclusion on his own. Still, it made him smile to think of headstrong, toughie, big-sis Lizzie Bennet as being sentimental. He admired it in her when he looked upon the idea of it with disgust in his own person. It became true with other things, such as her stubbornness, her boldness, her brashness, the depth of her caring—they were all portrayed as positive traits in her when in himself he despised them immensely. What bad he saw him in himself he saw in her as good. Perhaps, as she had dropped into a conversation concerning a quote Dr. Gardiner had said in a seminar, 'all emotions have two sides—one good and one bad; one with a positive effect, one with a negative effect.' He saw the good sides of the same traits they shared in her where as he was greatly displeased to find them in himself.
This observation stunned him and only perplexed him greatly more as to why he was attracted and incredibly admiring of Lizzie Bennet. So he gave up on trying to figure her character out at all—his final conclusion was that she was simply a collection of exceptional and dangerous points.
Darcy dared not ask Lizzie what more she was writing about, for she wasn't already covering him in details. She appreciated this tactful move on his part, and in turn spurned on with her writing, plowing through the cramped wrist and ink splotches and spelling errors so she could snap the thing shut and shove it back into her carry-on bag. She returned to the land of the social extroverts and said, looking about the plane, "Where's Lydia?"
"Probably earning herself a small fan club as she wins over other passengers in lesser cabins," Darcy offered as an explanation.
Lizzie shrugged and nodded, though she kept searching for any sigh of her little redhead sister. She'd feel better when Lydia became settled down in one of the lovely leather seats and watched Frozen.
The stewardess came by fifteen minutes later with lovely tea sandwiches and a pre-ordered cup of tea for the entire party.
"My mother would appreciate this," Lizzie said, regarding the thoughtfulness of Darcy for her mother. "You know, if she was awake."
"Anything to make up for the fact that we're stuck on a commercial plane," Darcy said.
Lizzie added teasingly, "Flying in the same plane as the rest of the riffraff! Really, it's highly intolerable."
Darcy shrugged slightly, in good-humor. "I tried the best I could. I'm sorry we have to interact with people so under our class."
"The very idea." Lizzie sighed and shrugged her head. "Can't believe this was the only option left. It is two-thousand-fourteen, and we're in a commercial plane!"
"I am terribly sorry that I have to subject you to such torture, my darling," Darcy said, his hand over Lizzie's in a dramatic gesture.
Lizzie sighed heavily, her hand panning from her temple to her chin. "I suppose I shall have to find the strength within me to bear it."
Darcy's eyes gleamed and he had a slow smile on his face. "You really get into costume theater, don't you, Lizzie?"
"Always have, always will," Lizzie said. "Jane and I did it all the time growing up; we weren't video game kids. I always had to play the boys because I wore plaid all the time, but then Lydia had to join us because Mom demanded we not exclude her, and I was relieved of my masculine portrayals." She smiled at the memories. "Then Jane made us all agree to be the guys and the girls. Said it was only fair. And you couldn't refuse Jane anything, not even back then. She asks for so little, and when she does ask, she asks so nicely and sweetly. You can't help but give in."
"I can imagine. For you see, Bing is very much the same way," Darcy said.
"They're both very sensible souls," Lizzie said. "WHEN they feel like being sensible."
"Quite true," Darcy said. Then he cast a suspicious eye over to her carry-on bag. "You didn't by chance bring items for costume theater, did you?"
Lizzie laid both hands flat over the top of her carry-on bag. He didn't need to see the plaid shirt, newsboy hat, or flamboyant hat and shawl. "Maybe," she said. "For cases of emergency."
"'Cases of emergency?'" Darcy repeated, amused. He straightened and said, hands clasped on his knee, "I can see this emergency now. We're strolling down a sidewalk in Central Park, and you're overcome with a sudden urge to document it via video camera, for you must recap our previous moments in the city for your adoring video crowd."
Lizzie threw him a saucy look, and said, barely keeping the smile from emerging, "Contrary to popular belief, Mr. Darcy, I do not document every single moment of my life."
"Says the girl with the video diaries and the physical book form of a diary," Darcy said.
"Said the guy with the latest phone that has two thousand plus texts and five-hundred-forty-six pictures, most of them selfies with his little sister and girlfriend," Lizzie said sassily.
Darcy blinked once. Twice. "That is all correct." A beat later, "You were searching through my phone."
"I was going to check our latest selfie and you happened to hand me your phone that opened up to your text inbox," Lizzie explained.
Darcy bobbled his head from left to right, his eyes focused COMPLETELY on the seat in front of him. "That's once again true," he said.
"For all except you," Lizzie said, clasping his right arm in her hands and leaning her head against his.
Darcy realized once again his carelessness and Lizzie beamed with triumph as he captured his ability to speak once more. "Remind me to think before I speak," he said, "or else I fear we'll break up over the incessant quoting of that intolerable movie."
"YOU'RE the only who keeps bringing it up," Lizzie said innocently.
Darcy inhaled deeply. "That is true." He raised a hand and requested two glasses of champagne. Lizzie grinned and hurried to finish her cup of tea before their latest order of drinks arrived.
The stewardess nearly tripped, spraying Mr. and Mrs. Bennet with expensive alcohol, for Lydia had nearly tripped her. But disaster was successfully side-stepped as Lydia came flying into Lizzie's aisle. "Okay, you will literally not be able to guess who I found in second-class," Lydia said seriously.
Lizzie said, confused, "Um, okay. Obama?"
"No, but it IS a politician, and that's the only clue I'll give you," Lydia said, still terribly serious.
Lizzie's face wrinkled up. "I don't know! I don't know the names of politicians. A former president? A senator?" She was rewarded with a fervent nod from Lydia. "Okay, one of our state senators? Like, one from California?"
"Yes. He's flying off to New York for some conference or whatever, and he brought his fiancee with him!" Lydia said.
"Should I know his fiancee?" Lizzie asked, beyond bewildered.
Enter into scene Caroline Lee: dressed to perfection (even while traveling), nails manicured, hair shining and sleek, smile bright and dyed. "Oh my goodness, Lizzie Bennet, if you had just told me you were on this plane as well, I would have hopped cabins sooner," she said, grinning brilliantly.
Unfortunately, Lizzie Bennet was NOT the composed fiancee of a significant senator, and hadn't the ability to recover her wits and sarcastic charm to save her butt. She couldn't even grit her teeth into a half-believable fake smile. She was instead thinking how well she could insult Caroline Lee and how she could strangle Lydia for leaving the first-class cabin for one millisecond. So her reply was "Hello, Caroline."
"Lizzie, it has simply been forever. I'm sorry; James got me a new phone, and so all the contacts got lost in the washer, if you know what I mean. I'm sorry that I haven't been able to keep up, Lizzie, but I've simply been SO busy lately." Her hand was immediately splayed two inches from Darcy's face to have the best possible light shine and pierce the ring on her ring finger. Caroline grinned to herself. "You see, I've been awfully busy as of late."
Lizzie managed to squeeze out a courteous "Congratulations" and felt immensely sorry for the stupid senator who decided to wed himself to this—this stereotype.
"Congratulations, Caroline. I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it to the engagement party," Darcy said.
Caroline gasped. "Darcy! You're here too!" She squatted next to him, batting her extra-long eyelashes that made Lizzie Bennet set her jaw. "It's all right, though it WAS the party of the year. Bing was there, obviously, and he LOVES James! They exchanged stories left and right—I am EVER so pleased by the friendship they have." She beamed. "But then Bing simply rushed off the next day and the next moment, before I know it, he calls me saying he popped the question to Jane and she accepted! I fairly DIED of happiness! James and I just had to get on the soonest plane. Though, they said that the second-class was all they had available; something about a party already claiming first-class. Well, now my curiosity is quenched, for I know the identities of that party! Tell me, why the trip to New York?"
Lizzie knew Caroline knew EXACTLY why they were going to NYC. She choked out, actually sounding pleasant, "We're off to see Jane and Bing. They're engaged."
"You know what this means, Lizzie?" Caroline beamed with excitement as her extended hand squeezed Lizzie's with far too much pressure. "We're going to be sisters!"
Lizzie squeezed back but in her mind, she thought, 'Ugh, REALLY? Sisters! Like I need another one.'
The following hour contained a few episodes of turbulence, an introduction to the lovely Senator James Elton, whom Lizzie received as pleasantly as she could, many Frozen references that made Caroline and James laugh at the same time so even Lizzie grew tired of them, and several toasts to all the new engagements. In the end, however, Caroline wanted to catch a snatch of 'beauty sleep' before their landing, and the happy couple went back to their own seats.
Once their pretentious butts were out of sight, Lizzie rounded on her boyfriend, who was finding an exceptional amount of interest in the crossword puzzle. "You got an invitation to Caroline Lee's engagement party?" she asked, concerned.
Darcy laid down the paper. "I wasn't invited to have a plus-one and upon asking on your invitation, she said she'd forgotten and was having one of the event planners send it. When you didn't say anything about it, I realized that you never received the invitation, and resolved to not bring drama upon you that was unneeded. Clearly Caroline doesn't care anymore for your friendship, and I would rather not dig up any old wounds by rubbing that fact into your face."
"Okay. Fine. Caroline didn't invite me to her engagement party. Big whoop. I don't even care. But Bing? Really? Bing went? Jane didn't tell me that," Lizzie said.
"You forget that not everyone divulges everything that happens to them to everyone else," Darcy reminded matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, I know. It's just—Jane and I are not only sisters; we're close friends. I figured she would tell me if Bing went to his sister's engagement party," Lizzie sighed, a little dejected.
"Perhaps she'd rather save you pain as well," Darcy said.
"I guess ignorance is bliss," Lizzie concluded.
"Sometimes, yes," Darcy said, "especially in this case."
"Still feels kinda bad to feel left out," Lizzie pointed out, just to be truthful.
"I had the best intentions, Lizzie," Darcy said. He offered his shoulder and said, "Perhaps a nap would relax you?"
"What else do I have to do for three hours?" Lizzie said, sighing. Worry about seminars and thesis(es? Thesi?) and help Charlotte come up with taglines for games other than Game of Gourds and keep a wary eye on the adventurous Lydia? She felt her body go slack at the very thought, and she nestled her head against Darcy's comfortable, broad shoulder. Before she closed her eyes, she leaned forward and adjusted his dark red bowtie. She smiled, inhaled deeply, and attempted to fall asleep.
Somehow three hours past, and Lizzie woke up with a choked sound and a 'wha' on her lips. Charlotte's hand was firmly pressing against her shoulder, and Darcy whispered in her ear, "We've landed, darling."
"I don't feel like moving," Lizzie murmured.
"Lizzie, Jane texted me and said she's waiting outside with Bing and a big sign saying 'Bennet Family,' saying that included me and Darcy," Charlotte said, in hopes to awaken a fire inside of Lizzie.
Lizzie smiled. "That's such a Jane thing to do."
"Let's go find her before Caroline and this Elton guy do," Charlotte said.
This awoke the fire in Lizzie Bennet. She sat up straight and said to Darcy and patient Charlotte, "If that isn't an incentive, what is?" and with that, Lizzie Bennet led a party of disgruntled but relatively cheerful loved ones down the plane aisle and down into the terminal to congratulate her sister and future-brother-in-law on their engagement.
DIZZIE FOR THE WINNNNNN. Thanks for reading! God bless!