Lovestruck in Los Angeles (7 page)

I laughed. “It’s crazy to think that it’s winter right now.”

“Right? Seventy-three and sunny is so very winter-like. I saw a man in a wool jumper out on the street yesterday.”

“This would be shorts weather in Detroit.”

His eyes flicked down to my bare legs. “A fact I am very much appreciative of.”

“I could say the same for you, mister. You’re rocking those shorts.”

He laughed. “Rocking them, eh?”

I squeezed his hand. “Yup. I’ll have to fight off the female competitors with a stick.”

He nodded gravely. “Most likely. Maybe you’ll find one on the trails.”

I grinned, my momentary sadness at the thought of Maria and my dad reduced to a dull ache. “So we’re hiking, right?”

“I thought we could try it out, yeah. And there’s an observatory, too, if we wanted to check that out.” His voice took on an overly casual note, which cracked me up. Thomas is a total science geek but tries to hide it.

“We could do that.”

“The observatory is up in the hills, and there’s supposed to be amazing views of the entire area. Oh, and of the Hollywood sign.”

“Sweet. We can get some good pictures then.”

The ride to the observatory was nice. We drove along a winding road up into the hills, the neat spacious houses of the neighborhood eventually giving way to trees and steep drop-offs.

“Jenner said parking could be a bitch up here,” Thomas said. The sides of the road were filled bumper-to-bumper with parked cars. “We should probably just park at the first spot we see and walk the rest of the way.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Thomas parallel parked easily between a BMW and a Range Rover and we began the trek up the rest of the hill toward the observatory. My legs were burning within minutes. “Crap,” I muttered. “I might not be so good at this hiking thing.”

“Come on, love. Get a move on. No lollygagging.”

I made a face at him. “I can do without the British gym instructor, please.”

It was worth the steep terrain when we finally reached the parking lot outside the observatory. The domed building was situated at the top of a hill, the world seeming to fall away on all sides of it. The view, as Thomas had said, was incredible.

“Wow,” he said, leaning against a fence. “This is gorgeous.”

It was a clear day in the hills, though the city below seemed smudged around the edges from what I assumed was smog. It was hard to focus on that, though, with the green hills surrounding us and the seemingly never-ending view stretching out in the distance.

“And there’s the Hollywood sign,” Thomas said, pointing to a hill just to the right of the parking lot. “Let’s get some pictures.”

Thomas took about a dozen pictures of me with the sign in the background, only stopping when I complained loudly that I wouldn’t mind a picture of him as well.

“Sorry,” he said, shrugging. “You’re just so good looking I can’t help myself.”

I mimed puking, and he laughed. “It’s so nice, Lizzie, the way you graciously take my compliments.”

We took a few shots of the both of us, and I took some of Thomas alone before we walked up the lot to the observatory itself. The views of L.A. were even better from the outer walls of the observatory. It felt like being at the very edge of the world. Thomas had to drag me inside; I would have been content to look out over the valley for hours.

“Blimey, there’s a Foucault Pendulum in here,” Thomas murmured, catching sight of a round structure in the center of the lobby. He took my hand and led me to the edge, explaining how it worked. Something about the movement of the pendulum and the way it knocked down these little pins was supposed to prove that the earth was rotating.

“I still don’t get it,” I muttered, after he explained it a second time.

“Lizzie, it appears that the pendulum’s path is changing, but it’s really the
earth
that’s rotating.” He was clearly exasperated with me. It was actually kind of cute.

“It’s a very nice Focal Pendant,” I said, patting his hand.

He clenched his teeth. “Foucault Pendulum.”

“Uh-huh. That.”

He was not deterred by my lack of scientific aptitude. He wanted to explore every exhibit and explain them to me in detail. I nodded and oohed and ahhed in what I hoped were the right places, wondering if this was how he’d felt when I made him go to the Jane Austen museum with me last spring.

Finally Thomas had enough of the observatory and we were able to get back outside, but not before he spent ten minutes at the front desk getting information on times to see the live programs in the planetarium. “We’ll have to come back,” he said excitedly, tucking the pamphlets into his backpack.

“Yay.”

Back outside I was taken with the view all over again. “I’ve never lived somewhere that wasn’t flat,” I said. “I could really get used to having hills in my back yard.”

“It’s my favorite thing about visiting my parents in Edinburgh.”

We found the hiking trail but paused to retrieve bottles of water and sunscreen from Thomas’s backpack before we set off. I was a sweating mess within minutes. I thanked God for small favors when I found a hair tie in my pocket and could get my mess of curls off my neck. “I’m gross,” I said, when Thomas paused to kiss the back of my bare neck.

“If this is gross, then I like you gross.”

We continued along the trail. My legs still burned, and I was still sweaty and probably red faced, but eventually those concerns seemed to fade away into the background. The views were too fantastic to care too much about how ugly I looked. Soon, the burn in my legs started to feel almost good—that burn was what was getting me up the crest of each hill. Every time I filled my lungs with the clear air I found I was more and more relaxed, more centered. I was outside with Thomas on a beautiful day—what did I have to complain about?

“Wanna take a break?” Thomas asked, his breath sounding nearly as labored as my own.

“Sure.”

There was a bench on the crest of the hill, and we both collapsed and took long pulls from our bottles of water. “This is great,” he said, his eyes scanning the trail we’d just climbed.

“It is. I’m surprised, actually.”

“Because your version of exercise usually consists of strolling up and down the racks at the library?”

I laughed. “Pretty much.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes, taking it all in. Eventually, Thomas cleared his throat. “I need to talk to you about something.”

I turned to him, concerned by the seriousness of his tone.

“Your cousin called me.”

“Sofie?”

He nodded.

“Sofie called you? Why? Is everything all right?”

He nodded. “Everyone is fine.” There was a pause. “She wants you to come home for Thanksgiving. And I agree.”

I focused on my bottle cap, not wanting to meet his gaze. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Lizzie, your family misses you. You miss them. It’s obvious.”

“Did she happen to mention how my dad feels about this suggestion?” I knew my voice was sharp, and I tried to relax. I was not going to take any of this out on Thomas.

“She said it shouldn’t be a big deal because Thanksgiving is at her parents’ house this year.”

I snorted. “Yeah, totally not a big deal. My dad will still be there, Thomas. Only at my uncle’s house he won’t be able to go hide in the garage. So everyone will have to experience the awkwardness of him not talking to me.”

“You don’t know that he wouldn’t talk to you. Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move.”

“The first move?” I snapped, glaring at him, my temper barely under control. “Do you know how many times I’ve called the house and asked to speak to him? Really, do you have any idea?”

He shook his head, his face stricken.

“At least two dozen. All autumn long, every time I called home to talk to my mom or Samuel or whoever was hanging out, I always asked to say ‘hi’ to him. And no matter who was on the phone, the response was the same. An awkward pause and then some excuse. ‘He’s working on the car.’ ‘He’s out right now.’ ‘I’ll tell him you called.’ For two
months
, Thomas.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it hurt so freaking bad!” I cried, too loud. My voice echoed over the hill, and I clamped my teeth shut. We hadn’t passed anyone on the trail, but I still didn’t want to be yelling in public. “It hurt my feelings, okay? And he hasn’t reached out to me once, not in all this time. So what am I supposed to do, walk right into my uncle’s house and pretend like it’s not insane that my own father won’t talk to me?”

I felt tears threatening, and I rubbed my fists into my eyes. Damn it. Why did Sofie have to interfere? We’d been having such a nice day.

“Do you really think he would ignore you, face to face?”

“Thomas, he didn’t say goodbye to me.” I was crying now, there was no sense in trying to stop it. “I told them I was going back to London on a Monday, and my flight wasn’t for two days. In that time he didn’t say a word to me. We were under the same roof and he didn’t say one thing. And when I left home for good he didn’t come to the airport. He didn’t even say goodbye.”

Thomas’s arms were around me before I could even reach for him, his strong hands rubbing soothing circles into my back. “I’m so sorry, Lizzie. I really, really am. You told me how hard it would be for you to stay with me that weekend we went to Winchester, but I never really got it until now.”

“And now I’m all mixed up,” I said, trying to keep from full out sobbing. “Because I’m so mad at him for treating me like that. Like, furious, you know? But at the same time, I miss him so much. And I feel guilty for disappointing him.” I let out a half sob. “And it sucks.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” He continued to rub circles into my back, letting me cry, until I finally felt up to pulling away.

I rubbed my fingers under my eyes, trying to dry the remains of the tears. “I’m sorry I lost it.”

“Please, Lizzie. I wish you had told me all of that sooner. I knew you guys weren’t talking, but I never realized how bad it was.”

I shook my head. “The worst thing is what a tough situation it puts my mom in, you know? Because she would welcome us home with open arms. And she calls me every few days, and always takes my calls whether he’s there or not. I know she’s mad at him, and I hate putting that between them.”

“That is not your fault.” His voice was sharp. “She should be standing up for you. It’s what’s mums do. He’s the one that’s being unreasonable.”

“See, this is how messed up I am.” I felt like crying again. “Because I basically just said the exact same thing, but I still felt this wave of guilt when you called him unreasonable.”

He shot me a wry smile. “Then I’m glad I didn’t say the first word that came to mind.”

I smiled back, though I was sure it probably looked more like a grimace.

“But what are you going to do?” He sounded concerned again. “This can’t go on forever.”

“I know. But I don’t know how to fix it, either.” I was quiet, staring out at the hills around us. “Maybe she’ll be able to talk some sense into him. Maybe she already has. I haven’t asked to talk to him in a while. Maybe it’s time I gave it another shot.”

“If you do that, please tell me. I hate the idea of you getting shot down like that and keeping it to yourself.”

I nodded. “I will.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. “Well, if we’re not going to Detroit for Thanksgiving,” Thomas said, his voice bright, “we should plan something totally awesome.”

“Totally awesome, huh? Like what?”

“What would you think about a Vegas roadtrip?”

I gaped at him. “Vegas?”

“Yeah. We can drive from here, apparently. I was talking to one of the grips on the film, and he said it’s a gorgeous drive. You get there in just a few hours. We could find a nice hotel, maybe see some shows. Gamble a little.”

I had never given Vegas a lot of thought. I wasn’t much into gambling or clubbing or any of those things that the city seemed well known for. But Vegas with Thomas? I had a feeling he could make any trip worth taking.

“Vegas sounds perfect,” I said, a grin breaking out on my face. “We should definitely, definitely go to Vegas.”

“Yeah?”

I could still see concern in his eyes, but a smile was stretching across his face as well. I leaned forward and kissed him, wishing I could think of the words to thank him for what he meant to me. The way he cared so much if I was happy. The way he tried so hard to make sure I was.

“Definitely, yeah,” I whispered against his mouth. “If it’s with you, I’ll go anywhere.”

Chapter Six

We left for Vegas just after breakfast. Thomas was giddy at the prospect of driving his cool car for such a long trip; I was more excited to see the scenery along the way.

“I think this might be the prettiest drive I’ve ever taken,” I said, staring out the window of Thomas’s car at the passing dessert. “I’ve seen pictures of it out here, and they always seemed so barren to me. But actually seeing it…this is gorgeous.”

The flat highway stretched off ahead of us in a straight line, as far as the eye could see. We were surrounded by wide desert vistas, huge red rock formations out in the distance, the side of the road scattered with Joshua trees. It seemed to go on forever, no matter where I looked.

“I always forget how big the States are,” Thomas said. “It’s like a completely different environment here than it is in California. Or New York.”

“Or Michigan. You were only there in the winter, you barely got to see anything.”

“What would you have shown me, if the weather was better?”

I thought for a minute. “We’d go see the Great Lakes, for sure. They’re pretty incredible. And if we went up north you’d get to see all the forests, which are really beautiful. Maybe we’d go to Traverse City, see the sand dunes and the bay. Right on Lake Michigan.” I felt a sharp stab of homesickness that I tried to push away. There was no sense in thinking about home right now. We were going to Vegas.

“What about Florida?” he asked, as if he knew I wanted to change the subject. “You’ve been there. What’s it like? California?”