Page 13 of The Heart Remembers

“I brought us lunch,” he says, surprising me once more, and he takes a bag, a blanket, and a small cooler from my trunk. Leading me to a shady spot under a tree, he spreads the blanket, and I fold down to it. Taking the bag and the cooler from him from my position, I wait as he struggles to the ground.

“How is it today?” I nod at his leg while trying to ignore his crotch area.

“Better actually.” He smiles to himself, opening the cooler and handing me a water. “I wanted to explain a little something about last night.”

“I was totally out of line, and I’m so sorry,” I blurt before he can say anything more.

Levi pauses, hand on the open cooler top, and stares at me. “Uhm . . . I’m not certain what you’re talking about, but I wanted to explain the whiskey.”

“Oh. Oh, right. The bottle on the nightstand.” I lower my head like unscrewing the cap to my water bottle is the most interesting thing in the world, and not because he’s ignoring the fact I almost grabbed his junk last night.

“Anyway, I don’t want you to think I have a problem or anything. I mean, I shouldn’t have taken the bottle to my room like that. It used to be a habit, but it’s not anymore. Not now with AJ.”

“Levi, you don’t owe me an explanation. It’s your life, your son.”

“But I don’t want you to think I’m a bad dad. I don’t do that often, and as I said, I forgot my pills. It’s an honest mistake, but a stupid one, because then I drink to cut the pain, and drinking brings on nightmares. It’s a vicious circle.”

“Were you having a nightmare last night? You were tossing and turning for a bit and muttering like you were struggling.”

Levi turns his head away from me, gazing off in the distance.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I say, lowering my voice and toying with the bottle cap in my hand.

“That’s just it. I want to tell you. I want to let you in on my deepest, darkest secrets, but it will make you run for the hills. You’ll never look at me the same again.”

I nod, sort of understanding his position but wishing he’d give me more credit.

“Have you told others what’s happened?”

“Like a therapist?” he snorts, having already admitted to me last night he has one.

“Like Tricia or Leon?”

“Only Leon.” Levi looks back at me. “I couldn’t face Tricia if I told her.”

“My aunt loves you unconditionally, Levi. You’re family to her.”

“Yeah, I don’t deserve her.”

“Why would you say that?”

Levi shrugs, pulling a container of cut fruit and two sandwiches out of the cooler before answering.

“I just never understood what I did to get a woman like her in my life.”

I don’t really have an answer for him. “Why wouldn’t you deserve someone amazing like Aunt Tricia?”

“Because women always leave me.” It’s candid and direct, and it hits my lower belly like a sucker punch. It’s a sad thought.

“Who left besides Alicia?”

“My mom when I was a baby, just like Alicia left AJ.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, knowing how he feels in a sense, and supposing he sees history repeating itself. “I understand.”

Quiet falls between us, and for some reason, my own story escapes.

“I was about four . . . An alarm had been beeping for what seemed like an endless amount of time. I sat on my parents’ bed with my ears covered. I’d been watching television next to my sleeping mother for two shows of my favorite purple dinosaur. The noise incessantly buzzed. “‘Mommy, Mommy, Mommy,’ I said. She didn’t like to be woken, but the noise was too much for me. I remember thinking she might yell at me. It frightened me when she yelled. I’d cry, which would make her angrier, but I was hungry. The cereal was in the lower cabinet since my dad caught me on the counter one morning. My parents had gotten into a big screaming match, and I didn’t like that. I could get the cereal myself but not the milk. The refrigerator was too difficult to open. It made my dad laugh when I struggled to pull the large handles with my little arms. My little feet would slide against the floor despite my tugging.”