“Where?” He said it without particular warmth.
She had decided on a spot beside the path that led around the side of the lodge. She pointed. “That way. And can you turn off your mic?”
“Can I what?”
It was easier to do than to explain—she stood on tiptoe, reached up to his lapel, and switched it off herself. Turning, she walked quickly toward the path, still carrying her bouquet, avoiding eye contact with family and crew members alike and hoping that Darcy and no one else was following her; surely some audio guy, perhaps someone in the control room, had already taken note of having lost sound for the maid of honor and the best man and was en route to rectify the situation. She glanced over her shoulder—Darcy was following her—then stepped off the path and behind a large boulder bordered by desert grasses and bleached, sandy soil. He joined her, his expression quizzical, and they stood facing each other.
“You talked to my mom about Ham, didn’t you?” Liz said. He looked surprised, and Liz added, “Lydia and Mary both mentioned it.”
Darcy scanned Liz’s face before saying, “I’m afraid the birth defect explanation isn’t politically correct, but I was trying to find terms that would be understandable to someone of her generation.”
“Did you talk to her over the phone or in person?” Liz hadn’t planned to ask, but she found herself wondering.
Darcy smiled. “That’s a very Liz Bennet–ish question. I took both your parents to lunch.”
“That was brave.” After a pause, she said, “Is a Liz Bennet–ish question a good or bad thing?”
Darcy said, “Actually, that’s a very Liz Bennet–ish question, too.”
“You guys didn’t go to Skyline, did you?”
“We went to Teller’s. Would you like to know what we ordered?”
But there was growing affection in his tone, not sarcasm. And the thought of him inviting her mother and father to lunch, sitting with them at a table in Teller’s, helping them, with the authority conferred by his medical degree, to understand that having a transgender son-in-law wasn’t a terrible thing—it was very moving. Liz said, “Thank you. And thank you also for getting Jane and Chip back together—for making the dinner in New York happen.”
“I’m glad you feel that way after the paces we’ve been put through in the last few days.” He grazed his jaw with his fingers. “And me standing here like a fool in makeup.”
“It kind of suits you. Is the stroke center okay with you taking time off?”
“I’ll be working Christmas and New Year’s, which is fine. Georgie’s flying to Cincinnati for the holidays.” Their eyes met again, and he said, “Georgie called me last night. She’s worried that she sent you a confusing text on Labor Day.”
“It wasn’t Georgie’s fault. It just—” Liz swallowed. “I jumped to conclusions. I didn’t know you and Caroline had been in a car accident, and I thought you’d gotten together, like as a couple. It didn’t seem that far-fetched, because I could tell I’d annoyed you by interrupting our breakfast and flying to Cincinnati when Lydia eloped. Then when you texted me right after I got back to New York—I wish now that I hadn’t responded so coldly, but that’s why I did. And it’s why I didn’t behave very well at the dinner with Jane and Chip.”
“Yes, it was clear that night that I’d done something to displease you,” Darcy said. “Even if I wasn’t sure what.”
“I actually wanted to ask you in New York how Georgie is doing,” Liz said.
“Much better,” Darcy said. “Thanks.”
There was a brief silence, and Liz gathered her courage. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry because I’ve been rude, and you haven’t deserved my rudeness. In Atherton, I felt like things between us were good in a way they hadn’t been before. I really enjoyed being around you, and even though I’d been obnoxious in Cincinnati, I thought maybe you’d forgiven me. But after Lydia eloped, it seemed like I’d ruined any shot you and I had.”
“I wasn’t annoyed that morning. I was disappointed. And later kicked myself for taking too long to follow up, but you were so consumed with your family that at the time it seemed better to give you space.”
“Well, you were right about my family being a disaster, as the rest of America will soon learn. And about my being gossipy and not as funny as I think I am.”
“Liz.” Darcy reached a hand out and set it on her bare forearm, and the gesture made her heart volcanic. “I hope you know that your talent for gossip is a large part of why I enjoy your company.” He was regarding her with an expression that was both appraising and tender. “I’ve never met anyone with your interest in other people. Even when you’re judging them, you do it with such care and attention. I can never predict who you’ll like or dislike, but I always know your reasons will be very specific and you’ll express them with great passion. I’ve also never known anyone more loyal to her family.”