isPc
isPad
isPhone
Our Hearts Knew Better (Our Hearts #1) It’s a Mom’s 32%
Library Sign in

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.

A dark, sweet, nutty piece of banana bread.

I gasped as I walked over, my fingers poking at the bread as if it were a mirage. And as soon as the warm and moist and soft texture pressed against my skin, the earlier sting in my eyes welled and two tears slipped from both, the tightest squeeze in my chest.

Aware of Levi and his mom standing at either side of me, I chewed my lip to conceal the shaking, made worse by the familiar smell of the banana and walnut combination, as I swiped furiously at my face.

In my mind, I told Levi he could’ve warned me to avoid such a blubbering first impression. But it was only in my mind, because it also felt more freeing, more comfortable to have eyes on my heart.

“It’s not your mom’s, but it’s a mom’s,” Isolde said in a low soothing voice. “And Levi told me you were wanting to learn to make it. So this is your taste test.”

When I glanced over at her, she smiled, and I smiled back, my teeth still stuck in my lip, but I didn’t care how I looked anymore, how crazed I appeared in my appreciation.

And when she gestured to the plate, I took my first bite. Then cried some more. The flavor was so similar too. And buttery. I savored the feeling of a nut between my teeth.

For those few seconds, my mom was alive, and we were together, back in our first kitchen, sharing her favorite snack.

I wanted to race home and tell my dad, share this with him too. The thought was in the speed of my pulse but my feet were stilled, knowing better.

Can I hug you again? I thought now with another smile at Isolde, wanting to hug both her and Levi.

I didn’t hug either, but Isolde laid her hand on mine and asked, “Does it pass?”

“With flying colors,” I tried to tease, but the crack in my voice just brought more tears. Isolde still laughed, though, patting my hand, and I did, too, wiping at my face again as I glanced over at Levi, and nearly released another gasp.

He was studying me so intensely, emotion coloring his face, too, with a little shake of his own in the small smile on his lips. His hand inched closer along the counter, like he wanted to touch me—then it stopped, and a man’s bellowed greeting filled the room.

“Summer, is it?” Levi’s dad, Elliot, strolled up to us, and when I opened my mouth to confirm, he waved me off with a laugh. “I know it is.” Then he shook my hand and got it —this was who Levi got his handshaking upon first meeting from. “We’ve heard so much.” The words were warm and…approving. Or at least non-judging.

As he rounded me to talk to Isolde, I caught Levi dip his gaze down to the counter and I lowered my voice just for him as I teased, “So much. They’ve heard.”

His laugh was silent but beautiful, more color in his face, and mine, as he just nodded, and my insides jumped around.

Elliot rounded me again and Isolde rushed out, “Don’t forget your chocolates.” He rounded back and she dropped what looked like four chocolate kisses onto his palm.

“Best part of the day,” he cheered out to us all, holding up his fist like he’d won a prize, and we were all snickering as he headed out almost as quick as he headed in.

“Levi,” he called. “A word.”

“Yeah,” Levi called back, at the same time I asked, “Something wrong?”

But surely it wasn’t. Levi’s dad wasn’t difficult like mine and he didn’t even have the same disappointed tone—he wasn’t disappointed at all—and he shook my hand and he smiled at me—

“Oh no,” Levi assured my inner spiral. “I just have to…” He pointed his thumb in his dad’s direction. “But I’ll be back.”

Then it was me and Isolde. Not my mom, but a mom who was giving me one today.

I licked the nectar from the honeysuckle I’d set on the counter, then tried to put the flower in my hair, thinking it would look cute. Until I remembered nothing could make my hair look cute unless it was on top of my head with my curly cues. The cutest it could come. I’d worn it down again today and it was as attention-seeking as ever.

My struggle and defeat attracted Isolde’s attention. “Your hair is naturally curly.” It was a statement, and I bounced my head like that was debatable.

“It’s supposed to be. I can never really do anything with it.”

She moved, beckoning me to follow her, and we stopped at the bathroom. The walls were paneled in a light blue with white everywhere else. I smiled to myself once I spotted the coral on the sink, and the seashells and miniature ship wheels hung up. The rest of the house that I’d seen had similar vibes, as Levi had told me, but this room was more on the money.

Isolde had a sister who had curly hair, so she had some extra products lying around and passed them off to me. Yes, she was sure, and she even showed me how to use them, and I was excited to potentially see more of my curls and less of the frizz.

When we moved back into the kitchen, she wrapped up the banana nut bread—yes, she was sure again—that I would hide from Dad, and the products in a bag for me to take home.

She also added to Elliot’s comment about them having heard so much about me, telling me how Levi “never shuts up” low and close to my face, smiling and teasing.

My breathing skipped, then my face flushed as I heard him sneak up on us.

“That’s not exactly true.” His voice was as light as the mischievous look in his eyes that put another skip in my breathing. “I shut up sometimes.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” his mom joked, but our eyes were still locked on each other.

And when he said his next words, I stopped breathing entirely.

“Are you ready to go sailing?” He asked me slowly, a nervous suspense in his voice as he rubbed his knuckles along the kitchen door jamb, a smile budding on his lips.

It bloomed when I beamed, my breath gusting back and releasing as the giddiest sounding laugh.

I hurried to and past him with the skip in my feet now. “Well, let’s go!”

Chapter List
Display Options
Background
Size
A-