Page 42 of Our Hearts Knew Better

There was also a cafe and a donut shop I loved, but nothing beat the diner.

Levi would ask me to bring along my favorite books and I showed him a few, reading him some of my favorite passages, by his request too. Nothing that could get me hot and bothered with nothing to do about it; more laughs and angst and sadness. Words that lived more in my soul. I was comfortable to cackle with my mouth full and shed tears around him now, so those outcomes were safe bets.

Peppered around our alone time, he introduced me to his and Adam’s friend group. It was a pretty even mix of girls and guys. I imagined I was already part of the group, because the more time I spent with Levi, the more I felt I would be.

My favorite was Bonny. She was like Levi. More open and genuine in her friendliness.

None of them were named Nadia.

Adam’s regular texts slowed, then stopped once he got too busy with baseball.

He and I didn’t talk about Levi. And Levi and I didn’t talk about Adam.

Levi brought up Adam once and it was when we ventured to the outskirts so he could show me the batting cages and how to hit a ball—my request.

We went at night, and under the lights, almost hesitantly, pressing the tip of his bat into the turf, he asked me, “Are you sure you wouldn’t wanna do this with Adam?”

“I want to do this with you,” I told him, the underlying message ofyou’re the one I want to doeverythingwithin my tone.

He looked at me a long moment, then he didn’t bring it up again.

We went a couple more times after that one.

Dad continued to stay out of my hair. Our own worlds orbited each other, but now I was exiled from his as I explored my own.

This wasn’t just silent treatment. We were broken.

But at least he wasn’t moving us again. I checked daily for a For Sale sign to pop up in the yard, still having to keep my eyes peeled for a shadow, this one in the form of a realtor.

For sure, to my dad, I was making his life hell, but in the process, I got to touch a little piece of heaven.

It’s a Mom’s

It was a Tuesday—when the loneliness from being ignored inside the space that should’ve felt like home pressed down, with sharper waves of missing my mom—when I asked Levi if he could bring more honeysuckles to me.

“Funny you ask,” he said, as he’d already had a better idea, and that was to bring me to the honeysuckles.

He said his parents wanted to meet me, having missed catching me at his work.

“Why?” I murmured, after letting the word become a chant in my head, once we moved toward the house from the bush. “They just want to meet all your friends?” I was hinting, as I did more and more, stressing the word a bit, and he usually nibbled but didn’t bite.

He paused us at the front door, his hand around the knob, the smallest crease in his cheek as he swung his gaze to mine. “Something like that.”

Those were dancing around, closer to biting words, and he missed my shimmy as I followed him inside.

Levi’s house smelled sweet like pastries and salty like the sea. The perfect combination of his parents. Aside from Levi himself.

His mom—Isolde, a name I joked was a character name, not a real person’s—had the same blond hair and bright blue eyes. She liked to hug—I held onto her motherly embrace longer than I intended but she held me back with this knowing that made my eyes sting.

And she liked to tease.

“So you’re the one keeping my son out later when he decides to gallivant.”

“I’m the one.” I copied her tone, my smile guilty but not ashamed.

Isolde slid a glance toward Levi, then looked back at me with a laugh-throat clearing sound. “Well, come on. I have something for you.”

How?was the next question word chanting in my head—I didn’t have a handle on this immediate hospitality—as we followed her to the kitchen, where the sweet smell was the strongest. There was an L-shaped counter, the part sticking out from the edge like a mini bar, with a loaf of bread in the center. And a plate, with a piece cut off.

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