The Middle of Somewhere(29)

“Usually twice as long as I need to.”

The internal yapping of her cynical self was soon drowned out by the Pembertons’ collective genuine good nature. They weren’t the least bit stodgy, mixing the work of church and family with laughter, self-deprecation and a good deal of wine. The eldest daughter was married, and brought her two toddlers to see her parents a couple of times a week. Everyone took turns watching the children, including Liz. As she shepherded them away from myriad dangers lurking in the Pembertons’ childproofed home, she realized it was pure chance she had survived her mother’s lackadaisical parenting.

When Liz wasn’t working at Radio Shack, she was with Gabriel, and usually his family, too. Her mother dropped comments about never seeing her, and said one day she had missed Liz while she was in California. Liz answered with a shrug, and doubted it was true.

“It was so quiet without you,” Claire said.

“Maybe you should get a cat, Claire.” She had been on a first-name basis with both her parents since high school.

“Or a dog?”

“No. A cat.” Dogs expect too much.

Gabriel asked Liz to marry him on the anniversary of the first time they met, on the steps of the same dorm. She said they were too young, but what she meant was he couldn’t possibly love her as much as he appeared to. Six months later, he asked her again, and she refused him in the same way, for the same reason. Finally, on their second anniversary, Gabriel led her to the steps once more. His eyes pleaded with her. His love was palpable.

Gabriel was the first man to love Liz, to truly love her. So she said yes.

Her father, Russ Kroft, showed up at the wedding to give her away. Every time Liz thought of that phrase, “give me away,” she wanted to laugh, or puke. Gabriel and his earnest family had quashed most of her cynicism, but she had a secret stash of it for her parents. She’d have been content to walk down the aisle alone, but Eleanor Pemberton couldn’t bear the thought.

“Whatever he is or is not, he is your father. You don’t want to regret this opportunity to help him become a better man.” Gabriel’s mother could utter this with a straight face and mean it. There wasn’t a hope in hell that Russ wanted help from Liz—and she doubted he was keen on self-improvement—but she couldn’t tell Eleanor that.

The last time she’d spoken to Russ was more than two years ago. He had called to say he would be in Santa Fe in a few days’ time and hoped to see her. She had informed him she had been at UCLA for nearly two years.

“You don’t say,” he said. “What are you studying?”

“Biomedical engineering.”

He let out a low whistle. “You don’t say. Good jobs in that field?”

“A few.”

“Well, good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

A long pause. “I guess that means I won’t see you next week.”

“I guess not.” And it’s way too much trouble to get to Los Angeles.

“That’s too bad. It’s been a while. What? A year?”

“Two.”

Another whistle. “You don’t say. Santa Fe would have been convenient.”

“I’d move the university for you if I could, but it’s awfully big.”

He guffawed. “That’s a good one! Okay, I got to go. You take care.”

“’Bye.”

The conversation about the wedding hadn’t been much better.

“Hey, Russ.”

“How’s my girl?”

She bristled at the expression. “Fine. I called to say I’m getting married.”

“You don’t say. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Gabriel Pemberton.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“He’s somewhat fancy. The wedding’s three months away, on June twenty-fifth.” She steeled herself. “I don’t suppose you could make it.”

“In Santa Fe?”

“Yes.”

“June twenty-fifth?”

She could hear him riffling through a date planner.

“By golly, it’s your lucky day!”

Please tell me you have a colonoscopy scheduled.

Russ said, “I’m in Colorado Springs the twenty-third. That’s close, right?”

“Spitting distance.”

“Count me in, then. How old are you now, anyway? Nineteen?”