Before You Go

chapter twenty-seven

Leon

Back at the ranch, more guests have begun to arrive for the wedding. Over the course of two hours, I'm reintroduced to aunts and uncles from Liz's side of the family, and her grandparents embrace me with bone-crushing hugs. And, by the time all of these reintroductions are finished, my left cheek is full of different shades of pink, plum, and red lipstick. There's so much that I need to aggressively scrub my cheek over the kitchen sink just to get the shit off.

"The whole idea of wearing blush stems from putting it on both of your cheeks," Tenille jokes as she refills a bowl of potato chips.

I continue to scrub my face with a damp cloth. "Shut up, Ten. Why the hell didn't they bombard you with hugs and kisses? Christ, it's like they were targeting me."

Tenille sighs and tosses the empty bag in the garbage under the sink. "Because Liz's family adores you. It's a scientific fact."

I cock an eyebrow at her. "Everyone loves me."

Snorting, she grabs the cloth from my hand and wets it again with warm water. She also adds a little dab of blue dish soap to it. Gently, she begins to scrub my face. I flinch, wishing I would have been smart enough to add soap – I think I've removed the first layer of my skin already. It feels raw and stings a little each time Tenille makes a rubbing motion.

"Do you know how self-absorbed that sounds?" she asks. There's a small line between her eyebrows as she concentrates on my cheek.

"I wouldn't call it self-absorbed," I shrug. "I'm simply relaying the information I've heard. Liz always used to complain about people loving me."

Lowering her voice, Tenille asks, "Have you had a chance to talk to Eliza yet?"

I want to tell her the complete truth about why I'm here, but knowing Tenille, she'd probably lose her shit on me. "I did," I reply, fully aware that she's referring to my mom.

"And?"

"It hurt her," I sigh. "A lot. Liz loved my mom – she was there for her when her own parents neglected her. There were lots of tears and hugging." 

When Tenille is satisfied with my cheek, she sets the cloth down and steps back to admire her work. She then hangs the cloth up to dry.

"Thanks," I say.

"No problem," she replies, leaning against the countertop. Her face takes on a solemn look as she readjusts her ponytail. "I can't believe your mom passed away. It's terrible. And while I feel nothing but empathy for you, it's almost worse for Eliza. At least you got to see your mom, right? You got the closure you needed. Eliza didn't – the last time she saw Crystal was before you guys moved across the country. She never even got to say goodbye."

For a moment, we hear nothing but the murmur of people talking in the other room and the sound of the dishwasher running. At one point, Tenille grabs a potato chip from the bowl and pops it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. While she picks at the chips, I filter through the thoughts that are running around in my mind. I can't count the number of times Liz stayed over at our house when her parents were working through their now-permanent issues. Or the times Liz thanked my mom by holding her weight around the house; she would cook and clean and drive me to golf lessons after she got her license. Hell, Liz did more than I ever did around the house.