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“Trust me,” he says.
Levi hasn’t complained about his yoga workout or me waking him up this morning, so I do. I go with it. I’m living my best life, and today that life includes crepes.
Levi drums his fingers on the counter and peers over at me. “Question—”
I lift one brow. I don’t mind questions, but Levi sometimes does, and I tend to ask them right back.
“You have a list. It’s for trying things you’ve never tried. Your dad was protective. You had to tell him that you weren’t happy.”
“None of those are questions, Levi. Those are all things I’ve told you.” But I know what’s coming. The big fat three-letter word. I’ve seen enough sitcoms to know that resolution always comes after the big:why.
“Right. Why did your dad behave the way he did?” He clears his throat and surprises me with more. “I’m like him. Kind of. I’m protective. I’m even more annoyed with my mother and my very pregnant sister for going to yoga after the morning we just experienced. But I have my reasons.” His jaw clenches. “Can I ask what your dad’s reasons were?”
I grin at him. My story is new—to everyone but myself. It’s a strange one to tell. Like I’m watching one of those silly sitcoms or a dramatic movie, and someone else is telling this story. But I know what I’ll say. Because I know the why. I don’t hate my dad, and I don’t blame him.
“I told you my mom died when I was young.”
“Three.”
“Yes.” I swallow and fiddle with the rolled-up napkin and fork in front of me. “Uncle Bob said she was always up for an adventure. She loved trying anything and everything. I don’t know why, maybe just to say she’d done it. Maybe she just liked living so much she didn’t want to miss out on anything. She loved my dad. She loved me. When she died, it wasn’t doing something reckless or carefree. She fell down a flight of stairs, and she hit her head. With my dad walking right behind her. Something as simple as walking down a flight of stairs changed our lives forever. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.” I’ve made my peace with this. I don’t blame my father for the way he reacted. For how he solved this problem—his anxiety over losing me too.
“My dad decided to make sure I was safe. Even if that meant putting me in a bubble and never letting me live.” I shake my head. “He wasn’t trying to be unkind. But when I built up my courage and told him I wasn’t happy, I also recited a letter Uncle Bob had written to him. He broke down. He sobbed. I’d never seen him cry before, and then he didn’t stop for days.”
Levi turns on his swivel stool, his knees pressing next to mine. “What did the letter say?”
I think a minute, wanting to get it right. “It said: What’s the point in protecting her when staying like this means she’ll never find anything worth living for?” I sniff, because while he was right, the words were still painful for my dad to hear. All he’d ever wanted was for me to never get hurt. But by placing me in a painless life, in return, I never experienced joy. “We both learned an important lesson that day.” I lift my gaze to Levi’s. His eyes, like glowing amber honeycombs, stare back, listening to my every word. “To truly be happy, we have to suffer.”
Levi lets out a breath—one I hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“It’s true. If my dad hadn’t loved my mother so much, it wouldn’t have hurt to lose her. The pain was only so great because the love was great. I am not afraid to suffer.” I shake my head, feeling every ounce of those words. “I am not afraid to fall or to be burned. If I let fear guide my every step then, sure, I’ll save myself a few bumps and bruises, but I’m also going to miss out on everything good life has to offer. I think the joy is worth the pain. It has to be. I am only afraid of never having lived.” There is silence between us for a moment, only the clinks of dishes and the background chatter of the café remain. Then, I mentally step down from my soapbox.
“Steak and mushroom and berry Nutella.” The waitress sets the two dishes in front of us, interrupting the pause and stillness that’s risen between us. “I’ll grab those chocolate milks. Anything else?”
Levi looks at me but shakes his head for her. “That’s it.” He watches me, waiting. Then he nods toward the berry Nutella crepe in front of me.
So, I pick up my fork and give this new dish a go.
Blueberry bursts in my mouth and warm, gooey, chocolaty goodness melts over my tongue. I shut my eyes and release a little moan—it’s just that good. “This must be what heaven tastes like.”
When I open my eyes—eager for another bite, Levi is still watching me, his crepe untouched. His mouth turns up in a lop-sided grin.
“Now, try mine.”
20
Levi
Meredith eats three-quarters of the berry crepe and half of the steak and mushroom. I’m too busy watching her devour our food and thinking about all she’s said to eat very much myself.
“And now—”
“Let’s go fishing! Or ice skating, no,” she scoffs, laughing at herself, “it’s too warm. Let’s go—”
“Let’s get you on a bike.”
“Really?” she tilts her head, her lips pouting, though I don’t think she disapproves. “But that’s what we always do.”
“Yes. But today is the day. Yoga—remember? You’re going to be riding circles around me by the end of the night.”
