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“And?” I ask, knowing she’s here. Knowing somewhat how this story goes.
“He never wanted me to be unhappy. Just safe. When I told him, all those walls of safety he’d built for himself tumbled down. He told me I could go. Uncle Bob offered his home, he said he needed help.” She wrinkles her nose and whispers, “He doesn’t. But now I’m here. And my dad is in therapy, five days a week.”
I’m not sure I understand. But she’s also answered more than her fair share. I let the silence sit for a minute. She’ll say more if she wants to. I believe that.
“My turn!” she announces instead. “What would you have studied in college had you gone when you first wanted to?”
My answer will probably shock her. I haven’t exactly been a stellar cycling instructor. No one would peg me as a teacher. Not many, including my brothers, even know it was a desire at one point in my life. “Teaching,” I say. I owe her honesty, at the very least.
“No way!” She yips, bouncing in her seat. She slaps a hand to her chest. “Me too! Elementary. Wait, let me guess for you. High School shop?”
I chuckle. “I always thought middle school science would be fun. But that’s what Owen does now.”
“You could too.”
“Nah. Can you imagine me with middle schoolers?”
Meredith bows head in a chuckle. A strand of blonde hair wisps into her eyes. I wait for her to scoop it back, and when she doesn’t, I find myself leaning toward her. I comb the strand of hair back, gathering it behind her left ear, my fingers lingering like a whisper at her jawline.
Her eyes flick up to mine and my stomach blends like a strawberry milkshake. “I think you’d be great at middle school science, Mr. Bailey.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve put that dream to bed.”
Her smalt-blue eyes sparkle like a gem dug out of its stone wall. “You could always wake it up.”
17
Meredith
Over the course of a week, I get three more cycling lessons. Nikki and I bake two more batches of cookies. And with Uncle Bob’s preference for the “salty” kind, I end up sharing all those sweet batches with the people nearest me. I am officially friends with all of my neighbors now. Yay me!
If only I had as much luck with biking.
I think my body has trained itself to fall over unless it’s on two legs. I am not afraid of falling over. I just want to ride the bike. So, after a Google search and some pondering, I decide to tackle number eleven.
Exercise regularly.
Elle Woods taught me that exercise gives you endorphins, and endorphins make you happy. Also, that happy people don’t kill their husbands, but that part doesn’t apply to me.
Living, breathing, experiencing—andhappy. That’s what I want. The good, the bad, the hard, the happy.
If number eleven’s endorphin-building experience happens to help with my balance—then bonus!
I know Levi has the day off. It’s a rare occurrence. Usually, he gives himself Sundays and that’s it. He made sure to tell me that he wouldn’t be at the shop this Saturday. He didn’t say he had anything planned. He only mentioned sleeping in. So, I’m going to wake him up.
It’s been weeks since we first met.
We’re friends.
We’re totally at the stage in our friendship where one can wake the other up with a surprise visit. Right?
I sit on his porch step and send him a text.
Me:Good morning, sunshine.
Nothing…
Me:I have an idea to help with my balance.
