The Next Best Thing

“Whatever.”

“Not whatever, Sarah. You have to give it some effort, though.” He tried to think of what Faith would say. “It’s okay to be homesick. But don’t let that take away all the good things.” There. That sounded pretty good.

“Whatever, Sigmund. I have to study.” Her voice was deflated.

He sighed. “Okay. You’re smart, you’ll do great.”

“Thanks.” Barely a grunt now.

He hung up, bemused. College was supposed to help with her grief, not make it worse. He didn’t like knowing she was lonely.

A sign told him he’d driven out of Manningsport, across the little stretch of Osskill and into the town of Bryer. Looked like his subconscious had taken him for a little ride. A left at the intersection, two miles down, a right. This was the fourth time he’d been here. Funny how familiar the drive was.

Nice neighborhood, built in the late sixties. Ranches and Capes, big yards, smallish houses, all very wholesome. Great place for trick-or-treating, unlike the trailer park, where things could be a little dicey. When he was seven, Jessica’s dad had offered him a can of Pabst. From then on, Levi’s mom had driven him and Jess into the Village on Halloween. That had ended when they were nine. They’d each just happily accepted a regular-sized Mr. Goodbar (his favorite) and were leaving the porch of the giant old Vic when a voice came from the window. “Who was it?” the man asked.

The woman—Mrs. Thomas—answered, her voice sharp, “It was a couple of those trailer park kids. I wish their parents wouldn’t drive them here. They take advantage.”

Levi’s face had grown hot, and Jess...Jess had looked as if someone had just punched her in the stomach. Without thinking, he’d thrown his candy bar in the bushes, then hers. Taken her pillowcase and dumped it all right there, then did the same with his, even though the McCormicks had been really nice, complimenting him on the zombie makeup and telling him he’d almost given them a heart attack, he was so scary. They’d told Jess she looked beautiful.

Mrs. Thomas had broken her hip last spring, falling as she got out of the shower, and Levi had knelt on the floor next to her, the first person on the scene. He’d covered her up with a bathrobe so the firefighters wouldn’t see her naked, and she’d cried as he did it, telling him he was so kind. He told her not to worry, wondering if she realized that the kind cop had once been one of those trailer park urchins who used up the treats meant for better kids.

Levi slowed the cruiser, then pulled over. There was the house, a dark blue ranch with rhododendrons and a big maple tree, complete with swing. Lights were on in the living room, shining through the big window. A child’s bike lay next to the mailbox, half on the street.

There was his father’s wife, coming into the living room, handing someone a glass. His father, most likely. Their TV was on. Levi had never met the woman his father had married...only a glimpse of her twice before. She had fluffy blond hair and was on the skinny side.

There were no lights on in the bedrooms, which indicated the boys were asleep. Strange to think he had two half brothers. He’d never met them, didn’t know their names. He’d seen them the first time he’d come down the street, playing in the driveway with their Matchbox cars. They were young. That was about all he could see. He hadn’t parked that time, just kept going, careful not to look too hard.

Levi’s watch beeped. Ten o’clock. He could be with Faith right now, and all of a sudden, the desire to see her closed in on his chest like a vise.

But before he left, he got out of the car, walked over to the bike and moved it so it wouldn’t get run over.

Twenty minutes later, he was back at Jeremy’s enormous house. “Sorry that took so long,” he said.

“Hey. Faith’s asleep,” Jeremy said, pointing.

Sure enough, she was, her head on the couch pillows, a soft-looking blanket over her.

“Is she okay?” he asked, fighting a small pang of jealousy. A movie played softly on TV, something with that famous actress, the one who won all the Oscars.

“Just tired,” Jeremy said. “How was the call? Don’t worry, she sleeps like the dead.”

“I know.” Well, he knew that he could kiss her goodbye in the mornings and not have her so much as stir. Then again, he’d managed to wake her a time or two in the middle of the night, and done his best to make her sleep-deprived.

“Right, right. Of course you do. You want some food? We saved your steak.”

We. “I’m good.” He sat down in the chair, looking at Faith.

“So, are you guys serious?” Jeremy asked softly.

Levi took a breath and held it for a second. “We’ve slept together a couple times, Jeremy.” Six nights of the past eight, spent in the little apartment that looked as if she’d lived there for years.

“She’s not really the type for a casual relationship, you know,” Jeremy said.

“Listen, single g*y guy, I can take it from here, okay?” He raised an eyebrow at his friend, who smiled.

“Yeah, I understand. But maybe I could give you a little advice?”

“I’m good.” The questioning look stayed on his friend’s face. “Fine,” Levi said. “Knock yourself out.”

Jeremy adjusted the blanket around Faith’s feet. “Little things mean a lot to her. Tell her she looks pretty or notice if she’s wearing a new dress. Talk to her. Bring her flowers.”

“Flowers. Got it.”

“And don’t be sarcastic. She’s fragile.”

“I actually think she’s pretty tough,” Levi said, his words tight.

“It’s an act.”

“Is that right?”

“I think so. I know her very well.” Jeremy smiled, and for a nanosecond, Levi felt like punching him.

“Well, if the advice portion of the evening is done, I think I’ll take the delicate flower home,” Levi said.

“Sure. I didn’t mean to be a dick or anything. I just want you guys to work.”

And that was the thing. Jeremy was a damn prince.

“Got it. You wanna wake Sleeping Beauty?”

“Faith,” Jeremy said in a loud voice, shaking her feet. “Faith, honey, time to wake up. Come on, now. Wake up.”

Nothing from Faith, who appeared to be in a deep coma. “Faith. Come on.” Jeremy was practically shouting at her now.

“Maybe a bucket of ice water?” Levi suggested.

“What? I heard that. Don’t throw anything at me,” Faith muttered. “I’m here. What day is it?” She struggled into a sitting position, frowning. Then she saw him, and her face softened. “Hi.”

That urgent feeling of wanting he’d had at his father’s house, the need to be with her—not necessarily to sleep with her, though that would be nice—but just to touch her, have her close...that feeling was back. “Ready to go?” he asked.

“Okay.” She leaned over and kissed Jeremy on the cheek. “Thanks for dinner. Sorry I fell asleep.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It was like old times.” He smiled. “Levi, let me pack up your food.”

When they got back to the Opera House, Levi followed her into her place. “Hi, handsome!” she said to her leaping dog. “Who’s a good boy? Hmm? Give me two minutes, and we’ll take a you-know-what.” She went to the kitchen and got a glass of water, then scootched up onto the island counter, swinging her feet. “I take it you’re staying over?” she said, pink staining her cheeks. She didn’t look at him.

Levi didn’t answer. Instead, he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her and just lay his head against her chest. Felt some of the tension drain from his muscles as he breathed in her warm, sweet smell.

“You okay, Levi?” she asked softly.

“Yep.”

“What took you so long tonight?”

He imagined telling her about his father’s other kids, the happy little family he wasn’t part of. Maybe throw in some of the jealousy thing with Jeremy. Didn’t really see the point, all that talk about problems and issues and whatnot.

And, to be honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to know. Her, or anyone. “It just took a while, that’s all,” he said. He could stay here all day, against Faith’s gorgeous rack, listening to her breathe. Kinda perfect.

Except for one thing. “Faith?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“Your dog’s trying to impregnate my leg.”

She laughed, the sound rich and warm. “You’ll make beautiful puppies together.”

“Let’s take him for a walk.”

“And come back here and fool around?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He looked into those dusk-blue eyes. “You want to go out with me tomorrow? On a date?”

Her smile was a sight to see.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE  MANNINGSPORT PUBLIC LIBRARY was closed on Saturday afternoons, but Faith had the code. Levi probably did, too, but he stood back and let her punch it in.

There was something magical about being in a library when no one else was around, she thought as they went through the darkened rooms to the children’s section. That, and Levi’s strong, calloused hand holding hers as the rain pattered on the roof. Holding hands for the first time. Funny, the sweet shock of such a small gesture.

“So it’s all done, then?” Levi said as she opened the back door to the courtyard.

“All done. The dedication is Wednesday night.” She paused. “Maybe you’ll be there?”

“I hope so,” he said.

His answer, while noncommittal, made her cheeks prickle with a blush just the same. “Well, here it is. Take a look around.”

The courtyard had been a bit of a challenge, since the space was so small. Previously, it’d had a cement bench and an anemic flower bed of red geraniums (cemetery flowers, Faith always thought), as well as a germ-laden birdbath. Few people had ever used the space.

Now, watching Levi take in her work, Faith felt a warm swell of pride. In each corner was a Japanese maple tree, chosen for their manageable size and gorgeous foliage. Next week, Julianne had said, the kindergarten reading group would be making wind chimes to hang in the branches, and Topper Mack had already made four birdhouses, miniatures of the library.

In between each tree sat four mahogany and chestnut benches, made by Samuel Hastings. Faith had kept the carpenter busy this fall. Each bench had been donated by a founding family of Manningsport—the Hollands, of course, the Mannings, the Meerings and the van Huesens. The southern wall had no window and, since it got the sun all day, had made the courtyard stifling; this was the wall where Faith had designed a sleek waterfall that ran in a smooth, fluid sheet, the sound soft and soothing.

In the bulk of the space, Faith had created a circular path lined with low boxwoods and paved with old brick, which led to the object that, in Faith’s opinion, made the courtyard great: a life-size, bronze statue of Dr. Seuss, reading a copy of The Lorax as the furry little creature looked on.

Levi stood there now. “Dr. Seuss, huh?” he said. His hair had darkened in the light rain. “Why him?”

“Because he’s the greatest children’s author in the world,” she said. “In my opinion, anyway. The library board seemed to agree.”

“Happy Birthday to You was my favorite,” Levi said, brushing a fallen leaf off Dr. Seuss’s foot. “I used to read that after—I read that a lot.”

“After what?” Faith asked, pulling her jacket closer.

He glanced over. “After my father left,” he said after a pause, looking back at the statue.

Right. She’d always known Levi’s dad wasn’t in the picture, but he’d never mentioned it before. Her heart tugged, picturing Levi as a little boy, reading the joyfully exuberant book to counteract the misery he must’ve felt. “How old were you?” she asked.