Chapter 29

I stare at the phone in my hands, blood pulsing.

Gretchen called me yesterday, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I didn’t text her back, or check Messenger, or listen to her voicemail. Yesterday was, in fact, one of three days since the beginning of our friendship that we haven’t spoken. Everything inside me hurts and I don’t know how to deal with it.I don’t know how to bear my own pain and everyone else’s, too.

What I do know: A week was far too long to keep this secret.

Sitting on the swing hanging over our back porch, I listen to her voicemail first, to see if it will bring me some courage and comfort. “Hey, Bee,” she says, happy as a bird in the spring, “I hope everything’s all right. Miss you bunches! You should call me back tonight sometime. I think you’re crap.”

I swallow hard. Hi Gretchen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about everything going on, please forgive me for being such a terrible friend, and for betraying your trust. Please know that I love you and can’t live without you.

That’s what I mean to tell her. But when Gretchen answers the phone a few moments later, my mouth opens and I say, “Hey, sorry I couldn’t call you back yesterday.”

“Where’ve you been?” she asks, not unkindly. “I missed you!”

“Just…super busy at the shop.” I bite my lip in disappointment. (Seriously, Bee?)

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

Gretchen sighs. “I can’t wait to see the shop, someday,” she says wistfully. “Whatcha doin’?”

“I’m relaxing outside. It’s so hot here.” I glance up, kicking our porch swing back and forth to catch the breeze. It’s nine o’clock on Saturday, and I’m still in my pajamas.

“Sounds nice, actually.” She clears her throat. “So…how’s Levi?”

“He’s really good,” I say. I feel awkward and overheated and ridiculous. This is your best friend—get a grip, Bee.

“Mmhmm. Has he kissed you yet?”

“Gretchen.”

“It’s a legitimate question, Bee.”

I roll my eyes. “No.”

“Shouldn’t be that hard—”

“Gretchen.”

“What?”

“I’m working on it.”

Gretchen says something, but it’s drowned out by the sound of Levi asking, “Working on what?”

I jump, twisting to look at him where he stands behind the swing. “Nothing,” I say, too quickly, almost like a warning.

“Is that Gretchen?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Tell her I said hello,” he says, but his eyes ask if I’ve told her about Papa.

I ignore this and relay his message. Gretchen grunts loudly. “Tell him to kiss you soon, or else.”

I make a pitiful noise. “No, absolutely not.”

Levi snatches the phone from me before I even realize he’s moved. He sits by my legs on the edge of the patio and says, “Hello, Gretchen. What do you want to tell me that she doesn’t want to say out loud?”

I tip my head over the back of the swing, making a face at the sky. I’m contemplating all sorts of things—such as what I’m going to eat for breakfast and when I can get to the gym and where my lost t-shirt went and oh, all right, I’m thinking about kissing him, too—when I hear him say, “I was already planning on it. Don’t panic.”

I jerk forward, staring at the top of his head, which now rests on my knee.

“Are you threatening me?” he asks Gretchen, sounding very serious.

She says something loudly and passionately on the other line. “Just give it back to me,” I groan, thoroughly embarrassed.

He holds up a hand. “Excuse me, what?” He laughs. “All right, all right, don’t worry about it, okay? I get it, you care so much and all that, etcetera, etcetera.”

Despite myself, I laugh.

“Here you go,” he adds (after Gretchen has the last word) and passes the phone to me.

Gretchen immediately says, “I’m not telling you what we talked about, so don’t ask. Just go about your day like nothing happened.”

“I can’t now. You’ve ruined everything.”

“Well, that’s okay because I’ve made you laugh.”

I look down, running my hand through Levi’s hair, unable to stop myself. “That’s all that matters, huh?”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “I have to go to work now, okay? But you will call me later?”

“Okay,” I say, heavily, and hope she doesn’t notice.

She doesn’t, because there are three thousand miles between us. “I think you’re crap.”

“I think you’re crap,” I reply, and hang up.

Levi turns his head so his cheek rests against my knee. He reaches up, wrapping his hand around mine, touching my pulse where it flutters under my skin.

“What are you doing here?” I ask quietly. He lets go of my hand, our fingertips just grazing each other, a new kind of torture. He must feel it, too, and drops his hand to his side.

“I came to see your dad.”

“Thanks,” I choke out, rubbing my eyes. I won’t cry. I won’t. “Want to do something for lunch?”

He nods his head. “I don’t have any plans. Erm, actually, there’s an interview later. But that’s it.”

Astrid calls my name, rushing out onto the patio, mouth open to say something else. Then her eyes narrow and she shakes her head. “You two.”

I give her a very pointed expression. “What’s up?”

“Don’t make those eyes at me,” she says.

“What are you talking about?”

“The ‘I’m so in love, please leave us alone’ eyes.”

“I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“It is. You created it. When you started going out with Dufus over here.”

Levi raises his hand. “I am Dufus.”

Astrid cracks a smile at that. “It’s all right, I mean, because he’s pretty cool and all.” She shrugs, as if she’s the Queen of Benevolence to give us her blessing.

“Gee, thanks. What did you need, Astrid?”

“For you to come to do the dishes.” She starts to leave. “Oh,” she adds, turning back to us, “and put a bra on. Much appreciated.”

I look down. I’m wearing a baggy t-shirt, one of my dad’s old work shirts, and Astrid is right. Thinking of where my clean bra hangs on my doorknob, I press my palm against my face, mortally embarrassed. Levi acts like he hasn’t heard (probably to spare me pain) and stands, grabbing my hand to help me up. He doesn’t look at my face, just runs his hand over my arm, up, up, past my elbow, touching all my skin. His palm stops on my shoulder, his thumb resting on the soft spot by my collarbone. It brushes back and forth twice, his gaze locked there, mesmerized by something I don’t understand, something that both terrifies and thrills me. I study his face as he does this, so thankful and scared.

(Thing You Should Know About Me #83: If you didn’t already know, I love his face, with his adoring eyes and angled features and kind mouth.)

Finally, Levi shakes himself out of whatever trance he’s in. “See you in a minute?”

I nod, letting him walk into the house. I see him sit down beside Millicent on the ground, his hair flopping into his face, and I take a deep breath in. Steady, Bee.

I take the other back door inside and run to my room, where I throw on actual clothes. (And a bra. Thanks, Astrid.) I wrap my hair into a bun atop my head and hurry back to the main part of the house.

Astrid stops me in the kitchen, handing me the sponge. “Mom said it’s your turn.” Her smile is persistent, clearly adding, I’m going to tell her you’re a disobedient brat if you don’t.

I raise an eyebrow. “Where’s Levi?”

“Dufus?” Astrid grins. “He’s sitting with Daddy.”

“Okay. Don’t make him work—”

“And he’s helping Mama rearrange her jewelry box.”

I rub a hand over my eyes, shaking my head. She leaves, and I hurry with the dishes, not wanting Levi to feel obligated. But when I get into the living room fifteen minutes later and sit beside him, I find he’s having the time of his life, safekeeping the three pairs of earrings my mother has bestowed upon him.

His grin, meant only for me, bares all his teeth. “Next job: Jewelry organizer for the wealthy.”

“Oh, really,” I say, amused.

“Yep. We’ll move to L.A. and buy a huge mansion once I’ve saved enough money, and we’ll get a dog and a fish and have a really great swimming pool and invite all my celebrity friends over for a party.”

“The American Dream,” I say drily, but in reality, I’m brimming with joy because he said “we”.

“Absolutely, honey.” He pats my knee.

“That’s nice, dear,” I reply, in all seriousness.

Astrid pretends to gag, but Millie is smiling at us in rapture. “You two,” she says. They’re the same words Astrid said earlier, but they sound completely different coming from her. Less cynical, more romantic. I reward her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

“Yeah, you two,” my dad says from his recliner. “So ooey-gooey.”

“Dad,” I say, very seriously. “Don’t invite Levi over and expect us to never look at each other.”

He winks at me. “Of course not.”

I smile, even though it hurts.

Levi places the earrings in their new spot in the box and grabs the next pair from my mom. “Hey, Matt, mind if I borrow your daughter tomorrow? We probably won’t be back until late.”

Papa’s eyes narrow. “Um.” He looks uncertain, but not because he doesn’t trust Levi. He’s confused about the question because Levi borrows me all the time.

I nudge Levi. “Meaning…?”

“There’s a TCP event in Malibu, and I have a plus one.”

My dad makes an “ah” shape with his mouth. “Well, sure. That’s fine.”

Levi looks at me, as if waiting for an answer. Does he think I’m going to say no? Ha! I rest my chin on his shoulder. (Our faces are touching in a lot of places but not enough places. Not the right places.) “That sounds like fun! What kind of event?”

“Silent auction. One of our sponsors is putting it on, actually. I’ve been talking to ehim about the TCP building, and he’s interested in discussing his properties with me.”

“You’re moving TCP?”

“I have no plans yet, but if he can offer me something better than what we already have, I’ll take it. He owns, like, ten houses and several office buildings.”

“Sounds…rich.”

“Oh, believe me, he is.” He kisses my nose. The fact that he can do this in front of my whole family without getting scolded means he’s scored some serious points. “And I’m taking you to dinner.”

I give him my best skeptical look, but I’m actually hyperventilating inside. “Where to?”

“Somewhere awesome. Duh. Dufus knows best.”

I make a strange giggle-hum in the back of my throat. It sounds awfully giddy. “Whatever you say.”

“So long as you keep your cell phones on you,” my mom says, “I have no problem with it.”

I grin. “I’m excited. What time should I be ready?”

“One o’clock.”

I nod excitedly. “It’s a date.”

Once again, Astrid makes a gagging motion, and Millie is in the clouds. But they’re both smiling, and my parents are, too, and that makes everything a little bit more bearable.

I spend the evening with Papa.

My mom and sisters leave for ballet class, so it’s just me and Tom and my dad. The last time this happened was…well. I don’t remember the last time this happened.

I sit on the couch, my legs curled under me. It’s nearing dinner, so Tom is heating up some leftovers. Papa has his legs up on the recliner, listening intently while I explain the process of creating a Zen Artistry arrangement. As I pause to show him a picture of the orchid with its wide petals and the long, skinny shoot of horsetail, he says, “Will you read to me again?”

I look over at him and instantly forget about the picture. His eyes are closed and his chest is rising and falling in regular, even breaths. Tom hands me a plate of food and sets Papa’s on the coffee table. “When he’s ready,” he whispers to me.

I nod at Tom and say to Papa, “Of course I’ll read to you.” I grab Crime and Punishment, opening to the bookmark.

It takes me a moment before I realize this is where we left off, nearly a week ago, and that he hasn’t picked it up since. I glance at the table, noting that the book was exactly where I set it down last Monday. The cover has even gathered a bit of dust.

My heart is breaking, breaking, every inch shattering. (But what did I expect?) “Daddy,” I murmur.

“Yes?” He doesn’t open his eyes.

I don’t know what to say. “Okay. I’ll read now.”

He smiles, warmly.

I hide my tears from him and Tom (and myself) and start to read.