Page 7 of The Heart Remembers

“She was a fool to leave you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” His voice is low, his eyes on the beer bottle in his hands.

“I’m not just saying it. Who doesn’t want to hear a promise of being taken care of? Who doesn’t want that sweet baby? AJ is adorable. Where is he?”

“He’s sleeping. Tricia has the baby monitor for me.” Makes sense as we are outside. Levi is quiet for a second before adding, “He’s flawed.”

“What the fuck?” My voice rises, and Levi’s brows lift.

“Alicia said that.”

Instantly, my sight drops to his leg. What did she think of him? And who says such a thing about her child? I hate her, and I don’t even know her.

“You’re better off without her,” I stress. “She sounds like a bitch.”

“Whoa, two swear words in under a minute? Slow down, Katie girl.” He nods at the beer in my hand, and I laugh.

“Still think I’m a child?” I tease.

“Definitely not a child,” he mutters before finishing his beer. I smile to myself and take another drink of lemony beer. We both stare off at the sunset, and I scoot myself closer to him. As the sun descends on our first night, I tip my head to his shoulder. To my surprise, he wraps an arm around me and presses a kiss to my temple.

“You’ll be okay, sweet girl,” he says, calling me the same thing when I was seventeen. I close my eyes, wishing he was using the endearment under different circumstances.

Like one that involved a kitchen table or a hallway wall or hardwood floors.

4

[Levi]

The next morning is just chaos. I love the craziness while I’m overwhelmed at the same time. There are so many people in this family, and it’s a reminder of how alone I really am. Just AJ and me.

Today’s agenda calls for a late afternoon baseball game on some diamond near Elk Lake. Gavin Scott and his wife live close to the location. I questioned Tricia on why the Scotts weren’t involved in this overly packed house party.

“Mainly because it’s already overly packed. And my mom.” Tricia’s voice quiets. “It was a tough call, but Karyn agreed we should give Mom only the most immediate family.” From the way the Scotts and Carters grew up, intermingling their families when Tom Carter married Karyn Scott, I sometimes forgot they weren’t one and the same family. They act like they are.

“What’s wrong with Mary?” The matriarch of their family is the sweetest woman in the world. Tough and wise but sweet. She treated me like I was family even when my own did so much wrong to her beautiful daughter.

“She’s just getting older. She’s eighty-five, and Tom thought this week should be just as celebratory for her. Her kids. Her grandkids. We love Gavin and Britton, Ethan and Ella, and all their gang, and they’ll be part of most of what we do, like today, but the physical house cannot hold us all.”

I understood. We were a large group.

Before we spend more time as that large group, I need a little break and decide to take AJ on a walk. This leads to Madison deciding to walk with her three small ones, and a couple of the teens wanting to ride off on bikes they found in the garage. It’s more of a production than I thought, but finally, we start down the paved road, breaking off into smaller groups.

Katie sticks with me for some reason, and I’m grateful for her company in the chaos. Eventually, we separate even more from the spreading groups. Her quiet is comfort, calming my insides. She starts pointing out things to AJ. Birds. Cool leaves. Someone’s yard flag. She’s making the trip an adventure, and I marvel at how easily she nurtures and educates.

“He’s only six months,” I joke.

“Yeah, but he’s a human sponge, soaking everything in.” She squeezes her hands as if emphasizing the absorption. “In that first year, he’s going to learn to walk, talk, hold things, and love.”

The thought stops my heart.

“What do you mean love?”

“I’m certain he loves you. He knows you’re the man. You’re the one taking care of his needs, but he’s also learning to trust that you’ll be there for him and accept that you’re here to protect him, provide for him. There’s more to love than just . . . love.” She chuckles. “I sound like a whack.”

Ignoring her dismissive attitude, I correct her. “You sound like a mother.” It’s the wrong thing to say as her expression drops, and she shrugs.

“One day,” she quietly mutters as we continue walking.