The sex was the best.
And he left in no state of arousal.
and
There once was a lass from Porthleven
Who died and ascended to heaven
She said, “What a treat!
There’s plenty to eat.
But I’d rather have cream tea in Devon.”
Lizzie cried as the plane flew back over the ocean. George tried to comfort her. “I know it’s over and I know how happy you were there, but please, Lizzie, don’t cry, we’ll do another walk all together again. I promise.” Lizzie couldn’t tell him how much she dreaded going home, where the Great Game announcers were louder and went on and on and on, where she wasn’t sure what to do with her life, where she might run into Maverick, or Andrea, or any of the (still, she presumed) angry cheerleaders whose football-playing boyfriends she’d fucked. These possibilities were bad enough, but what if she really never saw Jack again? When she was home in Ann Arbor, it seemed more and more likely that she wouldn’t. So she wept, inconsolable.
*?Lizzie Meets Kale?*
Todd, now known to one and all as Kale, didn’t make it to either the real or fake wedding or the Bultmanns’ funeral, but came to Tulsa the next year at Christmas. The day after George and Lizzie arrived they were back at the airport, waiting for his plane to land.
“He’ll be here soon,” George said.
“Is that a slight lack of enthusiasm I detect in your voice?” Lizzie asked.
“No, not really. Well, maybe. He’s just so damn handsome. Maybe you’ll think you married the wrong brother.”
“Impossible,” Lizzie assured him, squeezing his hand. It wasn’t that George was the wrong brother, it was just that Lizzie was still afraid that he was the wrong man. “Besides, looks only go so far.”
“Plus, when he wants to, he oozes charm. That plus looks takes you even farther, right?” George said gloomily when he came into view.
“Hey, Todd, uh, Kale,” George said, giving him a hug that more resembled a typical Bultmann clasp than the usual Goldrosen embrace. That done, Kale turned to Lizzie.
“And this, I presume, is my not-so-brand-new sister-in-law. Well done, Georgie Porgie. I like her already.” Lizzie couldn’t decide if his Aussie accent was put on just for the occasion or if it was acquired naturally during the decade he’d lived in Sydney.
At the same time that George said, “Don’t call me Georgie,” in a hangdog sort of voice, Lizzie said, “You don’t know me well enough to like me already,” which immediately cheered George up.
They walked toward baggage claim. “I guess we should go straight home. I’m sure Mom and Dad are on pins and needles waiting to see how much I’ve changed.”
“When did you last see them?” Lizzie asked.
“About five years ago. You remember, George, they came to Sydney for a couple of days and then flew to Auckland and took a cruise down the coast of New Zealand and ended up in Melbourne. They stayed with me, and it was a disaster for all concerned. I know you think they’re the best parents in the world, George, and maybe they were for you, but I was always beyond their capabilities.”
George punched his brother on the arm, not lightly. “You were an awful son, you know.”
Kale winced and rubbed his arm, although Lizzie could tell he was just faking. “Well, especially compared to you, anyway, that’s true. But do you ever think maybe you were too easy on them? What’s your opinion, sister mine?”
“My opinion is that we should walk faster, collect your suitcases, and go home,” Lizzie said.
Kale groaned. “Okay, if it has to be done, let’s get it over with. Oh, there’s one of my suitcases already.”
With some difficulty, George took it off the conveyer belt. “What’s in here? Gold doubloons?”
“You’re close.” Kale grinned. “It’s your Christmas and late wedding present. Emma, my former girlfriend, found it. Wait till you see it.”
“What is it?”
“Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie,” Kale said, putting his arm around her. “The Goldrosens never tell what our gifts are in advance of giving them. Haven’t you learned that yet?”
Lizzie laughed, but George took his brother seriously. “I would’ve thought you’d have forgotten those little rules by now, since you’ve been gone so long.”
“I’ve forgotten very little, actually,” Todd said.
In the evenings, after everyone else went to bed, the three youngsters, as Allan insisted on calling them, headed out to one of the bars on Cherry Street and talked. Mostly Lizzie listened. Maybe it was the beer, although she never had more than a couple of glasses, but she felt as though she belonged right where she was, sitting between George and his brother in this pretty awful dive bar in Tulsa, Oklahoma. It was a rare feeling.
“I have to thank you guys for getting married,” Kale said one night. “You took a lot of pressure off me.”
“Your status as unmarried older brother definitely figured into our plans,” George said.
“Yeah,” Lizzie agreed. “We talked a lot about how it would save you from being hassled by the family so much.”
“Right, that’s good to hear. Now, can you continue your good works and have a kid soon? I’d like to be rid of that responsibility too.”
“That’s harder,” George said. “It’ll be a few years at least. You’ll have to be patient.”
“Never my strong suit,” Kale admitted.
His wedding present to them was an Art Deco sterling silver coffee and tea set, which included an octagonal silver tray, a pot for coffee and one for tea, a creamer, and a sugar bowl. It was heart-stoppingly beautiful and Lizzie felt that it, like her ring, had really been meant for the next girl over, certainly not the one sitting here tonight in her in-laws’ house. She couldn’t imagine living up its demands of gracious hospitality and wondered how Elaine and Allan had described her to their older son that he would think she (and George) deserved such a stunning gift.
George spoke first. “Unbelievable. Thanks, bro. Did you ransom your inheritance to pay for it?”
“Nah, I told you my ex-girlfriend found it. She haunts flea markets and antique stores and as soon as she saw it she called and told me I had to get it for you two. She drives a hard bargain.”
“I wish you’d brought her, Todd,” Elaine said. “We’d love to meet her.”
“Did you hear me say she was an ex-girlfriend, Ma? And it’s Kale.” Although his smile took away some of the sting of his words, Lizzie could see how family life must have been before Todd left the red clay dirt of Oklahoma behind and moved to the other end of the world.
“You know, George,” she said to him one night when they were back in Ann Arbor, “when people look at you, what they immediately see is someone trustworthy. You just have that look somehow. Solid. Todd, Kale, doesn’t. I like him a lot, but I wouldn’t have wanted to go out with him. He has this way of making me feel like I’m not important, like he’s always looking beyond me for the next best thing.”