Lovestruck in Los Angeles (28 page)

“It’s just what?”

“Did Mom tell you about that meeting I had? With the editors from New York?” She nodded. “Well, it turned out they were just interested in my book because of Thomas. They wanted me to change the plot so it was about a girl falling for someone famous. And market it as a book written by the girl-next-door with the movie-star boyfriend.”

Maria winced. “I’m sorry. I could tell from the way Mama talked about it that you were excited.”

“It really, really sucked, Maria. And if Thomas and I were married…I feel like I’ll spend the rest of my life not knowing if I could have made it on my own. Not knowing if any of my successes or failures have anything to do with my own talent.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“But
you’ll
know how hard you work for everything,” she said. “And so will Thomas and your whole family.”

“But other people won’t.”

“It sounds to me like you need to decide if you care more about what other people think than your happiness.”

“You don’t know what it’s like out there. People can be so rude and catty, Maria. We would go to these industry parties, and I could just see everyone judging me.” I thought about Lola Fischer. “It was like that all the time, even back in London. So much cattiness. And the press, and all the fans.” I clenched my fists. “We couldn’t even spend a day at Disneyland without getting mobbed. People think it must be so glamorous, to date a celebrity. But it’s not easy.”

“So what?”

I looked up at her. “What do you mean, so what?”

“I mean, little sister, who cares if it’s hard? You think your relationship is the only one with challenges?”

“No, of course not—”

“Everyone has problems. Everyone has stuff they have to get through, stuff they have to deal with. What if you and Thomas were poor? What if you had all that stress about money and security that you know Mom and Dad had when they were first married? Do you think that would be easier?”

“No, but—”

“Or what about Laura? Trying for all these years to have a baby. Having to listen to stupid relatives constantly wondering about it.” She winked at me before she went on. “Do you think that’s been easy for them?”

“No, Maria. I’m not saying it is.”

“Well, it sounds to me like you’re thinking your problems are somehow harder or more insurmountable than anyone else’s, just because your boyfriend is famous.”

I snapped my mouth shut. She was definitely brash and outspoken, my oldest sister. But was she also right? Was I just being whiny?

“Look.” She reached across the table and put her hand over mine. “I’m not saying that you don’t have a right to be bothered by your challenges. And it probably does feel isolating because the stuff you guys deal with is different than the stuff most people deal with. But at its heart, your relationship is just like everyone else’s. And I can tell you without hesitation that they’re all hard, Lizzie. No matter how they might look on the outside. They’re
all
hard.”

I nodded, staring at her hand on mine. It felt very strange, having Maria of all people trying to talk me into working through the issues in my relationship with Thomas.

“Hey,” she said softly, and I looked up into her face. She was smiling at me. “What you need to decide, sis, what every couple has to decide, is whether or not your relationship is worth fighting for. Because that’s the only way they ever work—if you fight for them.”

Chapter Twenty-five

Thomas spent the next morning with me at the hospital before his afternoon flight. My mom was sitting up in bed when we went into her room, and she smiled at the sight of us.

“Lizzie,” she said, her voice deliberate and slow. She was still having trouble with her speech, but they were already starting her on therapy. “Thomas.”

We both sat with her, holding her hands, while Thomas told her all about the movie he had to get back to, and what it was like in California. Her eyes remained firmly on his face as he talked, a smile on her mouth. I knew it was probably harder for her to follow than she let on, but Thomas talked smoothly and continuously, pausing occasionally to ask her simple questions, putting no pressure on her. When it was time for him to go back to the house to get his things, he kissed her cheek and promised to see her soon.

“I’ll be back this afternoon, Mama,” I said, bending to kiss her myself. Before I could raise my head, she brought one hand up to my face, brushing my cheek softly. I closed my eyes at her touch, filled with gratitude that she was still here with us.

The ride back to the house was nearly silent. My stomach was already aching at the thought of Thomas leaving. He’d been so supportive, to all of us, over the past week. Imagining going weeks without seeing him, when things with my mom were still so unsettled, seemed impossible.

“So we’ll stop and get your bag and then head down to the airport,” I said, trying to make my voice sound casual and unconcerned. “Do you want to eat lunch at the house or once you’re checked in?”

But Thomas shook his head. “I booked a car to come get me. They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

I felt a little swell of panic. “Twenty minutes?” I’d thought we’d have all that time on the trip down to the airport. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him in twenty minutes.

We had reached the house, but I sat rooted in my seat. I had a feeling I was on the verge of some majorly immature and whiney behavior—like wrapping my arms around his legs and begging him not to go—and wanted to get myself under control before I moved.

“Come on, Lizzie. Let’s go inside and relax for a minute.”

“Can you cancel it?” I asked, my voice strangled. “The car? Let me drive you.”

“You’re already going back and forth between home and the hospital four times a day,” he said. “You don’t need to spend two hours round trip just to see me off.”

“I want to see you off. I want as much time as I can get.”

“Please, Lizzie,” he said, his voice taking on a serious note. “I don’t want to think about you all sad and worried, driving back here after I go through security. I’ll feel better if I know you’re safe at home and close to your family.”

I could tell he wasn’t joking around, so I sighed and moved to unbuckle my seat belt. “Okay. Let’s go inside.”

As soon as we reached the living room he pulled me onto his lap on the couch, not complaining when I clung tightly to him. “It’s only a few weeks,” he said. “And I’m going to see if I can come back at least one of the weekends.”

I nodded against his chest. I was determined not to spend our last few minutes together crying. I knew exactly how lucky I was to have had him here for as long as I had. And for my family to have accepted him so much during that time. I shouldn’t cry. Even though I couldn’t imagine falling asleep anymore without him there to say good night to.

Mom is the important issue here
, I reminded myself. Nothing was as important as her getting better. I needed to focus on that.

“I’m really starting to wish I had booked that later flight,” Thomas said, kissing my hair and my forehead.

“The later flight would have gotten you to L.A. at six a.m. You have to be on set tomorrow.”

“I think I’d take a sleepless night if it meant I got to spend a few more hours with you.”

I turned in his arms so I could face him. “You know how much I love you, right?”

His eyes searched mine, like he was trying to convince himself. “I think so.”

I shook my head. “Don’t think it. Know it. I
love
you, Thomas.”

He let out a breath. “Things haven’t been great lately.”

I looked down. “I know. But I don’t care about any of that. I really don’t. I don’t care what we have to put up with. It’s worth it to me. We’re worth it to me.”

I realized, as I said the words, how true they were. I could focus completely on my mom’s recovery right now because Thomas and I were going to be fine. Maria was right—everyone had to decide if their relationship was worth fighting for. But I’d already made that decision. Thomas was worth everything.

“Lizzie,” he whispered, sounding suddenly nervous. “I want you to know something.”

I stared up at him, watching his face closely. He looked like he was struggling with something, debating whether or not to say it.

I would like your blessing
.

Was this the moment? Was he going to ask me now? I wished he would—even if he was leaving, even if we wouldn’t get to celebrate it. I wanted to tell him yes, wanted him to take that yes with him when he went, to hang onto in the next few weeks.

He took a deep breath.

Of course, his car arrived at that moment, beeping loudly in the street.

I released a breath I hadn’t known I was holding and smiled. He shook his head, frustrated, but smiled too. He kissed me softly. “It will keep.”

We both stood, untangling from each other. Thomas walked to the door to wave at the driver, letting him know he was on his way, before turning back to me.

“It’s too hard,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “Leaving you. I hate it.”

“Me too.”

I held him close, surprised by how calm I was. I felt strengthened by the last few minutes, bolstered in my realization that we were going to get married, eventually. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together. Whether he asked me today or in three weeks or a year, it was going to happen. Nothing could keep us apart, not his career, not family, not my own insecurities. Certainly not a few weeks of distance.

I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him, lingering until long after my breath was gone. “I love you,” I whispered. “Be safe.”

“You be safe too. I’ll call you when I land.”

I nodded. He stared into my eyes for a long moment, as if he couldn’t bear to look away. I smiled encouragingly.

“I love you, Lizzie.”

Then he turned, picked up his bag, and walked slowly across the porch and down the walk. The driver helped him put his bag in the trunk, and Thomas stopped before ducking into the car, giving me a last wave.

I waved back, feeling a strange mixture of sadness, loneliness, and relief. I was going to miss him so much. But we were going to be okay. I knew we were.

After he was gone, I wandered around the house for a little while, absent-mindedly playing with the beads of my rosary. I had taken to carrying it around with me since that first night at the hospital, fidgeting with it whenever I felt worried or anxious. It made me think of Thomas, and of my parents, and so it made me feel better.

I didn’t need to be back to the hospital for a few hours yet. I would relieve my dad around two so he could get some rest, and then Maria and Laura would join me a few hours after that, one or all of the boys taking the evening shift. One good thing about having so many family members was that there was never any shortage of people to keep Mom company.

Thinking I might as well rest for a little while, I headed up to my room and stretched out on the bed. I draped the flower beads over a picture of Thomas and me that I had left on my nightstand last August. We’d taken it at Westminster Abbey last year, on our very first date. I could remember lying in this bed last summer after leaving London, staring at that picture and feeling like my heart was breaking in my chest.

Now I smiled at his familiar, handsome face, remembering the excitement of that day, the way I’d had butterflies in my tummy the whole time. How thrilling it felt every time we touched. How we’d kissed for the first time up in the London Eye, and it had felt just like I was falling.

I was just drifting off when I heard the front door open downstairs. Probably Sam coming home on his break to grab some lunch. My brothers had a habit of treating my parents’ fridge like their own. Feeling too sleepy to go down and say hello, I let my eyelids flutter closed.

And then my bedroom door opened. I sat up with a start, my heart beating wildly.

Thomas stood in the doorway to my room, his face slightly red, something clutched tightly in his hand. “I changed my mind.”

“Thomas? What are you doing? Did you forget something?”

He shook his head and came to the bed, pulling me up into a sitting position and crouching in front of me so we were at eye level. I couldn’t see what he was holding in his right hand, but he clutched both of mine with his left. “That thing I wanted to tell you? The thing I said would keep?” He dropped a kiss on my wrist. “I changed my mind. It won’t.”

“What are you—?”

“I bought you something last August,” he said, his voice coming out hurried and nervous. “Right after you came back to London. That’s when I knew, Lizzie, that I was in this with you forever. But I knew you weren’t ready yet, knew that there was too much drama going on with your family. That was okay, though.” He looked down at my hands, smiling to himself. “That just gave me more time to plan. And I planned a lot.”

“I don’t understand.”

But he kept going as if I hadn’t said a word. “First I thought I’d do it in Hyde Park, where we sat and read that day, remember? I think that was the first time I realized how good we’d be together, because it was all so natural with you. Or maybe I’d do it in the London Eye, where we first kissed. Or up in Edinburgh, where you decided to give me a chance. Or I’d take you back to Winchester. Or hide it in one of your favorite books. Or show it to you out of the blue, with no warning.”

I knew exactly what was going on, but all I could do was stare at him, not wanting to interrupt, wanting to hear every second of this story.

“I had a
lot
of plans, Lizzie. But then we were going to L.A., and I had to start planning all over again. Should I do it in our new house? Or in Vegas? I had finally decided on Christmas, and then that stupid cow had to go and leave my brother.” He smiled ruefully, shaking his head. “I was almost as mad at her for messing up my plans as I was at her for being so awful.” He swallowed. “And then things started to get so rough for us.”

His eyes met mine. “But I never changed my mind. Not for a second. I figured I had already waited so long, I could wait a little longer.”