Wednesday—November 25th, 2020

What Everyone Sees But Nobody Talks About Nº376

Today we're in for a long issue—if that is a deal breaker for you, if you only have a mind for mindless gossip, I suggest you keep scrolling and proceed to read about Miss Havisham's cats and Marianne Smythe-Smith's secret boyfriend. But if you care about GH, or just the world in general, I want to make you aware of what our beloved town is facing.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that most of us have to search for our vocations for a long time before we find ourselves doing what God intended for us. As it happens, some of us—a few lucky bunch—receive their call without ever having to look. Call it fate or karma, what's ours finds us (whether we like it or not).

This week it was Katharine Sheffield's turn to be found by her worthy call. Kate (for more information, find issue 247 of my work and read about how her fiancé broke up with her during a surprise birthday party she planned for him), for the great many of you who aren't aware, is the daughter of the late Frederick Sheffield and stepdaughter of our current Madam Mayor. Just last Monday, she engaged in a major protest (by herself) in Sand Avenue that resulted in her temporary victory over the patriarchy that rules us all.

You know what I'm referring to, dear reader, or you've been seriously misinformed by the Great Hamptons' officials (granted a very likely event). The Thomas Jefferson Community Center (and here, if you don't know who Thomas Jefferson is or in which part of town there's a Community Center, or even that we have one, I suggest that you go read a book instead of gossip column) has always had, since its creation in 1892 by Walter Romero (who served two mandates as mayor of the tons), one simple goal in mind—to be an all-embracing organization for the people of the tons, appreciative of its art, nature and religion, fostering the concept of community development and democracy. Not to mention art (Sheffield's manifest had a lot to say about art).

In Katharine Sheffield's manifest, written in a strong hand with red ink that may or may not be the blood of her enemies, Kate alleged that the Community Center has strengthened family bonds ("when you take part in a family activity, it brings a sense of accomplishment and joy... sometimes families can get so busy and caught up with household tasks that there's no free time left to just BE a family"), has offered valuable community info ("excellent resources for providing families with easy access to events, programs, courses, and general information about the tons"), has connected the many families we have here ("...and we have developed rich friendships as a result") and has helped us with mental health issues ("we find that checking in with the happenings and forcing ourselves to get out and take part really helps people feel better").

Indeed our Community Center has played a significant part in the life of many of us—a point that is made by it's primary aim today to attend to our needs, desires and aspirations. Both you and I can vouch for that. In a century so centered in the wonders of technology and making friends through a computer screen, we need each other's help more than ever and I find myself disappointed, though not surprised, that some of you have forgotten all the good the Community Center has brought to the tons.

Surely I'd hate to be the one (no, I wouldn't) to drag the Bridgerton name into this, but it is a widely known fact that Anthony Bridgerton, head of BCorp, has issued the order to destroy the Thomas Jefferson Community Center just last Friday, November 20th. Whether he made that decision on his own, whether he has bigger dreams for the tons, whether he had bad eggs in the morning that day, doesn't concern us. The point is that, unfortunately, shamefully, none of the Bridgertons has ever been seen by myself (or anyone else) inside the Community Center (or even in its proximity), which is a slight I'm sure they'll be delighted to fix, but therefore lies their ignorance as they don't have any idea of what TJCM means to the rest of our community.

So a friendly warning for the corporate men that are responsible for making the final decision on this matter. Your companies only exist because we, as customers, allow it. We consume your products and we support your causes because we believe in them. Imagine the shift that would happen in said relationship were we to find out that you, in turn, don't believe in our causes. That you don't care about us. At a time when common mental health problems such as anxiety and depression (which I've been a victim of myself), are issues that disproportionately affect lower socio-economic groups and significantly contribute to the widening gap in health inequalities, I ask you, can you really close your eyes and wash your hands of us?

Because we are willing to do the same to you.

Hamptons Girl

That was, Colin Bridgerton decided as he took a sip of his brandy, a very insightful article for a change. He hadn't been aware this Hamptons Girl had anything real and substantial to say—as far as he was concerned she was some meddling, childish woman who enjoyed exposing people's lives because her own was so uneventful.

He would like to say that he didn't read all of her snips but that would be a blatant lie. He had. Deep down he was as vain as he was insecure and every time his phone would buzz with a notification of another post, Colin would quickly open the app and scan the text for his own name. He hated how he was portrayed by this woman. Pretty but empty headed, charming but inconsequential. A pitiful man, forever in shame after being traded in by the likes of Nigel Berbrooke.

Colin didn't like that. That was not who he was. Or at least it was not what he wanted to be.

He wanted more.

He wanted a purpose.

He wanted a legacy.

He wanted, if not to know then at least to hope, that when he was gone, he'd be memorialized in some manner other than in Hamptons Girl's spiteful words.

Well, he thought, putting the phone down, at least he wasn't mentioned in issue 376—or exposed like Anthony. He was wondering what his brother would think about HG's latest call out when the very same said from the doorway.

"Does it feel good?"

Colin looked up. Anthony was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest and his own glass of brandy in hand.

"Does what feel good?" Colin asked.

"Being back home."

Colin straightened his back, surprised, and thought about. So far... yeah, it was nice to be home. It was strange, actually, how he loved returning home just as much as he did the departure. In a few days he'd be itching to leave again, but for now, he was glad.

He told his brother so. "Hadn't realized how much I missed it until I returned. Ouzo has its charms, but this—" he lifted his glass— "is heaven."

Anthony smiled wryly. "And how long do you plan to stay this time?"

Colin stood up, wandered over to the window and pretended to look out. Anthony made little attempt to disguise his impatience with Colin's broken heart. In truth, Colin really couldn't blame him. Occasionally, he was annoyed with himself too. He used to be so carefree; he never got attached to anything so it was always easy to let go. It'd been different with Holly. He had loved her. He had actually been willing to let go of everything else and live just for her.

And then she'd just—

Well, it was easier to leave town and pretend nothing had happened. 

"Colin?" his brother prompted.

Colin turned to him and blinked. He was fairly certain Anthony had asked him a question, but somewhere in the meanderings of his mind, he'd forgotten what. "Oh. Right." Colin cleared his throat. "I'll be here until new year's eve. Eloise insists."

Anthony said nothing, but it was difficult to miss the satisfied expression on his face. "Are you going to Lady Danbury's Thanksgiving Bash tomorrow?"

Colin finished the rest of his drink. "That depends. What, do you think, are the chances Mom won't use the party as an opportunity to find me a date?"

"Very slim."

"I thought so."

Anthony leaned back in his chair. "It has been almost a year, Colin..."

Colin stared at him in disbelief. "Don't you start on me."

Anthony raised a hand in surrender. "I wouldn't dream of it. I was only going to suggest that you keep your eyes open, you know? You don't have to find a girlfriend if you don't want one, but there's no harm in going on a few dates and having a good time. You used to be good at that."

Colin eyed the doorway, intending to pass through it very shortly. "I'm not averse to the idea."

"I didn't say you were," Anthony demurred.

"And yet we're still having this conversation."

"Only because you always avoid it so well," Anthony pointed out. "It makes you uncomfortable and I understand that. But sometimes..." He sighed, like this was hard for him too. "Sometimes I worry you've become so good at avoiding things that you'll just let everything get past you."

Colin sighed as well, but more heavily and more dramatically than his brother ever could. This was the one part of being home that he hated. He hated being pitied. Patronized. He hated how people thought sympathy and empathy were the same thing. And he hated how they couldn't tell that he needed neither of them.

"I'm just... Not there yet," he said, honestly doubting he ever would be but deciding Anthony didn't need to be made aware of that.

"I understand," Anthony returned. "Well, not fully, but I respect it. How about you just... humor Mom a bit, huh?"

Colin hadn't realized he was still holding his empty glass until it slipped through his fingers and landed on the carpet with a loud thunk. "Oh crap," he whispered, "is she sick?"

"No!" Anthony said, his surprise making his voice loud and forceful. He came toward Colin to put a hand on his shoulder. "No, man. She'll outlive us all, I'm sure of it."

Colin frowned. "Then what is this about? Why are you being so... involved?" Anthony had never taken that much interest in his life before and Colin found it both uncomfortable and frightening.

"I just want to see you..." Anthony started, "...happy."

"I am happy," Colin said without thinking. And then, seeing the look his brother gave him, added: "Fine, I'm not happy. I'm miserable. Is that what you want to hear? I was ready to propose to Holly and she stabbed me in the back. It fucking stings."

Anthony glanced down at his own shoes and his obvious discomfort made Colin clam up again. He wished he hadn't said anything. The door had never looked so good.

"So tell me," he changed the subject, trying to make his voice sound natural. "Are the things Hamptons Girl wrote about you true at all?"

Anthony raised his eyes and now he looked a bit mad. "Are they ever?"

"You tell me," Colin shrugged. "She seems to think the TJCC holds a lot of historical importance."

"And you care because...?" Anthony prompted.

"I don't. It just occurred to me that I may not be the only Bridgerton avoiding his issues."

"Let me handle the TJCC and Hamptons Girl, Colin. You 've read what she wrote. Her words at the end were very threatening which means she doesn't have anything real to use against me. Just goes to show. You shouldn't use a gossip app as a newsfeed."

"You haven't downloaded her app? Colin asked, raising a brow.

"Of course not," Anthony said defensively. "I have better things to do with my time."

Colin grinned. "Oh. I see. So not only you read everything HG writes but you also lie about it," he accused.

Anthony scowled but he didn't seem to have a reply for that. "Don't think I haven't noticed how you've evasively changed the subject," he pointed out.

"And now—" Colin flashed his brother a wicked smile— "I'm going to evasively leave."

"Colin!"

But he'd already left the room.

*

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