Truths Universally Acknowledged

I have always secretly wanted to be  a writer.  It's one of those talents/hobbies, however, that fall under the "good" category of good, better, best, so I don't get opportunities to write much.  When I do write, though, I thoroughly enjoy it.  This little story is based loosely on the crazy lives of the four gorgeous Stover babes, but also draws parallels from one of my most favorite and revered novels.  

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.  For what greater fortune would be present than a quaint wood and a lovely glen.  But the fortune came not just from the pleasant nature of the Glenwood, but also from the handsome return missionaries who told stories of their heroic battling of previous wars fought over seas, wars for the Lord and His gospel.  The most valiant of these heroes was the courageous David Wilcox.  He had recently returned with the missionary regiment from the dangerous lands of Columbia, yet he had a certain fondness for this land.  Said he to his good (and rich) friend Jordan Esser, “when I am in the country of Columbia, I never wish to leave it; and when I am in Glenwood, it is pretty much the same.  They each have their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.”

Yes, Glenwood had its advantages.  It was quite the breeding ground for love.  Too many had fallen there.  Not physically fallen, of course, but fallen for their handsome beaus.  It was this motivation for love that inspired the great Mr. Wilcox to ask Mr. Esser, a tolerable, yet witty man, to invite his dearest and loveliest sister over for a game of whist.  This sister, Lindsay Esser, was well-liked among her peers, so she invited her fellow friends to visit and observe the men that earned so many pounds per year.  (It is here that the narrator would like to interject, for clarification of course, but it must needs be said that pounds are not referencing weight.  Mr. Wilcox and Mr. Esser never gained more pounds than necessary. Their physique, in present language, was on point.  Ahh yiss, Lindsay and her friends would never have complaints about the physical attractiveness of Glenwood men.  But we must now return to this story and to the beautiful language articulated by the delightful hand that writes, I mean types.)  Our dearest Miss Lindsay seemed to invite too many friends to this pleasant evening, so whist was not possible to play, for it is clearly a four player game.  Instead, the good company decided on a game of Crazy Uno.

Mr. Esser began the introductions with as little words as possible, yet each word maintained a sense of wit and humor. “My name is Jordan Esser.  I’m quite a classy dresser.  Don’t tie me to a fetter.  I clearly look good in a sweater.”  It was true.  The sweater he was wearing was quite pleasing to the eye.  “This is my friend David Wilcox, recently returned from the land of Columbia.”  David’s current smile widened, and he grinned at each lady in the room.  “Dearest sister, please introduce us to your friends.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Wilcox.  I am Mr. Esser’s youngest and most favorite sister,” remarked Miss Lindsay.  She smiled privately to her brother, who smirked but nodded in agreement.  “These are my lovely friends, who are almost like sisters to me.  First, we have Megan Hodgman.  She hails from the country east of here located in Iowa.  There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it, yet Miss Hodgman is one of those few that I really love.  She has claimed that title, and I don’t think she can ever abandon it.”

Miss Hodgman smiled.  Miss Lindsay smiled back.  Mr. Wilcox continued to grin.  Mr. Esser nodded.

“My other dear friend is Faith Weaver, who lives not far from Glenwood in the land of Draper.  She is quite the sweetest girl.  We do love her, and her home in Draper is quite a place to visit.  We all must travel there one day and enjoy the sunny disposition of her and her family.”

Miss Weaver smiled.  Miss Lindsay smiled back.  Mr. Wilcox continued to grin.  Mr. Esser nodded.

“Finally, my dearest friend, Jamie Hendrickson.  She may appear short, but I inform you that she is not short-sighted at all.  Her wit and humor remain unmatched.  All my friends are quite humorous, but her wit is not parallel to anyone else.” 

Miss Hendrickson smiled.  Miss Lindsay smiled back.  Mr. Wilcox continued to grin.  Mr. Esser did not nod.  He had always been considered the most humorous, and he seriously doubted that this certain Miss Hendrickson could even compete with his wit.

A tall and blonde gentleman then walked into the room, too late for the introductions, I daresay.  “This is my brother, Erik Wilcox,” Mr. David Wilcox said.  Mr. Erik bowed, but Jamie believed she saw a smirk on his face as he folded his head.  “Shall you join us, dear brother?  We are about to engage in a lovely game of Crazy Uno.” 

“I shall pass on this…engaging opportunity,” Erik said.  “I have some important missionary emails to write to my other friends in the various regiments.”  “I think I shall pass on this round,” Miss Weaver decided.  An opportunity like Erik did not come strolling around the corner every day at Glenwood.  Miss Weaver walked over to Erik’s desk.  “How delighted your friends will be to receive such a letter!”

He made no answer. 

“You write uncommonly fast.”

“You are mistaken.  I write rather slowly.”

“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year!  Especially when P-days come every week.  How odious I should think them!”

“It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours.”

“I am afraid you do not like your pen.  Let me mend it for you.  I mend pens remarkably well.”

“Thank you—but I always mend my own.”

“How can you contrive to write so even?”

He was silent.

Miss Weaver waited.  Then continued her perusal.  “From the very beginning—from the first moment, I may almost say—of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”

Erik sat, confused.  “Um, I never proposed to you.”

“Oh, right, sorry, wrong scene, wrong character.  I was just acting in the moment.”

“I understand.  Honest mistake.  Can I return to my letters now?”

“Why, yes of course.”  Miss Weaver then returned to the circle of card players.  Jamie, hearing the whole conversation, cringed inside. Jamie dearly loved Miss Weaver, but not only could she not take a hint, but she also used the wrong Jane Austen quote!

Mr. Wilcox and Mr. Esser retreated to the kitchen.  David had never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him, there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and as to Miss Lindsay, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. Jordan, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or pleasure. Miss Hodgman he acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much.

“My dear friend,” David began, “how had you never introduced me to your sister before!  She is quite enjoyable and, I daresay, pretty.  Looking at you, I would have doubts that anyone in your relation could be as handsome as her.”

Mr. Esser smiled at his friend, but his eyes remained serious.  “Now don’t go getting any ideas, David, for I know how quickly your mind jumps from relationship to relationship.  Your imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment.”

“Oh, you tease me, Esser,” Mr. Wilcox smiled.  “But what of her friends?  Such lovely company.  What do you think of Miss Hendrickson?”  Mr. Wilcox nodded towards the young lady who was having a pleasant conversation with Mr. Erik.  She was the first one he had talked with that night.

Mr. Esser gazed over the apartment.  “She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.  You had better return to their company, for you are wasting your time with me.”
“Oh, very well!” exclaimed Mr. Wilcox, and to Mr. Esser’s dismay, he returned to Miss Lindsay’s side.  He must be careful, thought Jordan, for I shall not stand for him abandoning another girl for a South American country.