and least of all to her mother, who would have had a lot to say about it. Her mother had told her beforehand that it was a mistake to invite him to Thanksgiving. And Liz had just thought she was jealous, because she hadn't invited her to come out, although they had talked about her coming for Christmas.
But after Thanksgiving, Liz hadn't looked as bad in months. She was sad and tired, and irritable with the children. At first, both Carole and Jean thought it was the agony of the upcoming holidays, and the memories they evoked. But it was Jean who finally understood what had happened. Bill had stopped calling.
“Did you two have a fight?” she asked gingerly, when Liz came back from court the week after Thanksgiving.
Liz looked up at her with a grim expression, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She had lost weight in the past few days, and she was sleeping even less than she had been. “He walked out on me. The kids treated him like shit at Thanksgiving, or at least Megan and Annie did. And it was too much for him. They were incredibly rude actually, but apparently that was all he needed to convince him that it was all a big mistake, and our romance was the result of temporary insanity. Two weeks ago, he asked me to marry him on Valentine's Day. But we never made it through Thanksgiving.”
“Maybe he's just panicked,” Jean said cautiously. She hadn't seen Liz look that bad in months and it worried her. She seemed desperately unhappy, and it hadn't gone well for her in court that day. She had lost the motion, which just seemed to add to her depression. But the real issue was Bill and not the motion. “He'll be back, Liz. Let him calm down for a few days.”
“I don't think so. I think he meant it.” And she was sure of it when she called him at the end of the week, and he didn't return her call. And hating herself for it, she paged him. He called her back finally, after a few hours, and said he'd been tied up with an emergency, but his voice was distant and very chilly.
“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” she said, trying to sound light hearted, but he clearly had no interest in pursuing a conversation.
“I'm fine, Liz. Thanks for the call. Look, I'm sorry, but I'm busy.”
“Call me sometime.” She hated herself for sounding pathetic, but he was as direct as ever with her.
“I don't think that's a good idea right now. We both need to lick our wounds and get over what happened.”
“What did happen?” she asked, pressing him, and it was obvious he didn't like it.
“You know what happened. I came to my senses. I don't fit into your family, Liz, and I don't even want to try. You're a great woman and I love you, but this will never work. Not for me at least. You need to find someone else when you and the kids get over losing Jack, and that could take a while.” But it wasn't Jack she'd been thinking of for the past week, it was Bill. For the first time in eleven months, Jack seemed to be fading into the distance, and the pain Bill had inflicted on her as he left was far more acute, and more distressing.
“If we really love each other, we can work it out. Why don't we try?”
“For one very good reason,” he said bluntly, “I don't want to. I don't want to be married, or have kids, particularly someone else's kids who don't want me. They made it pretty clear, and I got the message.”
“They'd adjust in time.” She was pleading with him, and wishing that she wouldn't. It was humiliating but she didn't care. She knew now how much she loved him. And it seemed to be too late now. He wouldn't even give her a chance to try and work it out, and fix it.
“Maybe they'd adjust, Liz, but I wouldn't. And what's more, I don't want to. Find yourself another guy.” It was a callous thing to say to her, but it delivered the message.
“I love you. That's not a generic prescription, Doctor.”
“I can't help you out,” he said coldly. “And I've got to get back to the ER I've got a five-year-old with a tracheotomy sitting there waiting for me. Merry Christmas, Liz.” He was brutal, and she