Chapter Fourteen
Marigold
A thick fog hovered over my mind as I drove home from Donner’s after completing his weekly grocery run.
The cloud had been with me since yesterday when Jackson told me I was unidentifiable. I knew it was akin to depression, or that it might be depression itself, but I didn’t want to peek above the fog to see what was above. That would require hope, and I was running low on that.
When the mountain leveled out for a stretch, my mind drifted to the radio. “This recently requested three-year-old hit is called "Sunflower Dress" by Levi Shaw . . . ”
I slammed on the brakes and parked on the shoulder of the road. My heart raced as my hand shook. I stared at the radio dial in bewilderment.
Levi was a musician? Was this why he wouldn’t sing for me? He was keeping secrets. We both were. I still hadn’t told him about how I’d met with Jackson.
I’d simply assumed that he’d lived in Sutton his whole life, but I must’ve been wrong. So very, very wrong.
The realization made my shoulders slump. Who was I to Levi? A friend he felt obligated to help, but nothing more? Not a good enough friend to share his past with obviously.
The song started, intertwining guitar strings with another instrument layered beneath.
My eyes brimmed with tears as Levi’s voice permeated the confines of the truck. It sounded like evergreen boughs in the wind, the distant rumble of thunder, and the patter of rain on a window.
Then the words hit me.
He was singing about Lillian. A crown of baby’s breath in her hair, her skin tanned the color of wheat, and a sunflower dress.
I swallowed a lump in my throat and covered my face with quivering hands.
The dress I’d tried on before the football game. The one that caused Levi to almost crumple at the sight of me. It used to belong to Lillian. He loved it—he loved her —enough to use his voice.
When he saw me, it reminded him of the girl he lost, the song, their love. And at the same time, he realized she’d thrown it away.
What happened between Levi and Lillian? I was both curious and afraid to know.
The song ended and I turned off the radio.
Why had he kept this piece of himself hidden from me?
I forced my hands to still as I took the steering wheel and shifter, checked my rearview mirror, and carried on.
Levi wasn’t home yet, but football practice would be over soon. Finn pranced around my feet as I started dinner, waiting for Levi to return. I replayed the lyrics over and over in my head, trying to determine why he’d ceased to sing.
It’s because of me, I reasoned as I browned ground beef on the stove.
No. It must be Lillian, I mused as I boiled noodles—my go-to dinner. I’d gotten much better since the first spaghetti fiasco. She broke more than just his heart. She broke his voice.
Why am I fretting? We haven’t known each other long enough to share about past lovers, I rationalized as I cut lettuce. A cherry tomato rolled off the counter. I slammed my heel on it, the juice sliding between my toes.
I was deceiving myself. We’d known each other long enough. He should have told me.
Finn scurried toward the bedrooms at my stomp.
Levi had the freedom to choose what he told me, but I had nothing to offer him. No memories. He knew all of me. Every broken and missing part.
Perhaps that was why he kept his life a secret. I was empty and he was full.
The front door opened as I mixed red pasta sauce with the meat.
A moment later, strong arms wrapped around my waist and hugged me from behind. “That smells wonderful.”
My heart melted at his touch, beckoning me to sink into his arms. How had I forgotten that Levi greeted me like this?
I hadn’t, of course. But it was easier to dwell on the negative—such as the secrets and the pain of him not sharing. I’d rather do that than remember how he’d been showing me spurts of affection since the night he first taught me how to hold a guitar.
That evening would have been the perfect time for him to tell me that he used to be a country artist. Right? Or was I reading into things too much?
He untangled himself from me. “Did you see Donner today?”
Finn bounded into the kitchen and jumped on Levi, his rear end wagging.
“Yes,” I replied.
Finn and Levi scuffled around the kitchen. Levi hadn’t picked up on my morose mood. “There’s a tomato on the floor.”
“Oops.” I feigned ignorance, masking the fact that I had crushed it in a fit of hurt and anger.
He wiped the juice as I plated dinner.
The sun burned its orange gaze on the mountainside as the three of us retreated to the porch. Finn curled on a pillow as Levi and I sat with plates of pasta and salad. “I heard a song on the radio today,” I said, scraping my fork through the pasta.
Levi tensed.
“It was called "Sunflower Dress.”
He set his plate down.
I shoved pasta in my mouth, tasted the garlic and tomatoes, and waited.
“Marigold.” His voice trailed off.
“When were you going to tell me? Wait, don’t answer that. I’d rather know why you didn’t tell me. I've shared everything with you. The fact that you were famous enough to be on the radio seems like something you should have mentioned. What else are you keeping from me?”
He ran his hands through his hair and then rested his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t tell you because it was nice to have one person not know what a loser I was.”
I almost dropped my fork. “What?”
He shook his head with an air of disgust in himself. “Sunflower Dress" was my first big song in Nashville. There were other singles, but none as popular as that one. I was on a cusp of going big, headlining my own shows when my dad died and I . . . ” he trailed off.
I set my plate next to his on the little wicker table.
He shrugged. “I moved back home to prove that my dad hadn’t died the way everyone thought. I threw it all away for nothing. It’s been three years and I still haven’t proven anything. Most people look at me with pity, and I don’t blame them. I pity me too.”
If I was feeling like my normal, happy self, I might have tried to see the bright side. But instead, I said, “What happened between you and Lillian?”
He stood and walked inside.
Too offended to move, I sat with my mouth open. Did he just walk away from me?
He reappeared and set a beer on the seat between us, resting his guitar on his thigh.
One side of his mouth tipped up at my puzzled expression. “I didn’t mean to be rude. But if I’m going to talk about Lillian, I need to keep my hands busy. This guitar is more than an instrument. It’s my crutch, my comfort, and—” He paused, seeming to search for the word. “My barrier.”
I leaned against the old wood bench and crossed my arms.
Strumming the guitar absentmindedly, he relayed the tale he should have told me weeks ago. “As you know, Lillian and I grew up together. I didn’t think of her as anything more than Ezra’s annoying little sister until high school. She looked different when she came up freshman year. Plus, I saw her kissing another boy underneath the bleachers and realized I hated him for it. I felt like I had dry wheat in my mouth when I asked her to the homecoming dance, and I almost fainted when she agreed. We did everything together, from playing hide-and-seek in cornfields to taking holy communion in church. Loving her made sense.”
The cords turned into a melody I now recognized as "Sunflower Dress." Levi continued. “We celebrated our acceptance into the same college with pilfered bottles of beer in the old treehouse behind my house.”
I didn’t mention that I knew the exact spot he spoke of. I imagined Lillian’s back snuggled against his chest beneath the light of the moon as they discussed their futures, laughing and dreaming together.
“I went to college with a full scholarship to play ball. She came to every game and met me after every practice. Then I tore my ACL and lost my football scholarship.”
He stopped strumming, popped the cap off the beer, and took a long drink. “I moved to Nashville, waited tables at dive bars, and played on stages. Scribbled some songs. Ironically, my first track was called "Treehouse", named after the place where Lillian and I had spent so much time together. The night I proposed to her on stage, a big star named Ryker Tucker saw me perform and contacted me.”
I blinked, surprised. I didn’t remember who my parents were or if I had siblings or if my boyfriend abused me, but for some reason, I recognized that name. “He’s very successful.”
Levi tipped his beer in my direction, offering a sip, but I declined. He took a swing. “He mentored me. I toured as his opener.
“After "Sunflower Dress" went viral, we did a single together. Both successes combined had my phone blowing up with calls from agents and record labels. I was so busy singing about Lillian that I neglected to actually spend time with her, invite her to Nashville, and include her in my success. She broke up with me on the day of my dad’s funeral. One week before our scheduled wedding. She couldn’t handle my neglect any longer.”
Soft music wafted over us as he placed the beer on the deck and strummed again.
“I moved back home. Three years later, Lillian is married and I’m in a musty old cabin looking for ghosts.” He hesitated, glanced at me, then looked away.
One question begged to be answered. “Do you still love her?”
Levi’s fingers stopped as he focused on the dipping sun. “I don’t think you ever stop caring for your first love. I wonder what could have been. Parts of me will always love her. But the more time that passes, the easier it gets.” His eyes shimmered.
I stood and ambled toward the railing, unsure how to process his confession.
The faint sound of his guitar being gently placed down resonated, followed by the echo of his steps as he approached me.
“You should have told me,” I said. The valley below shimmered in a golden hue, casting elongated shadows from the scattered trees and houses onto the fields.
“Really? So when was I supposed to tell you that I let my last girlfriend down in tabloid-accusing fashion?”
I tightened my grip on the railing. “Your breakup was covered in magazines?”
“A few. Not front page, but that didn’t matter.”
No, I supposed it wouldn’t. “Is that everything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have any more secrets, Levi?”
He paused. “One or two. But don’t you think I’m allowed to keep those?”
Ezra flitted through my mind. Yes, he was allowed to have secrets, but only because I had one of my own. “If you promise to share them when the time is right.” I planned to do the same.
He rested his elbows on the railing, shoulder brushing against mine. “Yes, when the time is right, I’ll tell you my secrets.”
The birds twittered in the woods as we continued watching the sun.
“Marigold?”
“Hm?”
“Will you forgive me?”
My grip on the wood eased. As much as his omission hurt, I was a fixer, and I would not allow our relationship to remain broken. “I suppose.”
My body angled toward Levi’s at the same time that he faced me. The Tennessee sun infused the deck with warmth.
He inched closer. I closed my eyes as he enfolded me in his arms. My cheek rested against his chest and again, I felt the thump, thump, thump of his heart. I breathed out a sigh. This felt like home.
Home?
Could I let go of my desire to learn who I was and allow Levi to be my home?
Before I could consider that any further, he bent down, gently nuzzled his nose against the curve of my neck, and inhaled deeply. When the stubble of his jaw tickled my skin, I clung tighter, my fingers digging into the soft skin around his elbows.
His palms cradled my hips before enveloping the small of my back, drawing our bodies together akin to intertwining flower roots tangled in soil.
For a second, the fog hovering around me lifted, my brain cleared, and I exhaled. I belonged here. With Levi. Right now. We hadn’t planned this moment, but I hoped it would linger.
I set my hand on his chest and inhaled his scent; sunshine and evergreen trees, like he spent his day on either the mountain or the football field. I wished I could press the fragrance into my pillow and fall asleep basked in the aroma.
His lips grazed my neck, igniting a trail of warmth through my core. Levi Shaw was kissing me. I didn’t move. I stopped breathing. His lips curved against my neck as he said, “Marigold.”
“Uh-huh?” I whispered.
“Breathe.”
I sucked in air. The sun didn't warm me. Levi did. All the places he touched were liquid fire.
Pulling away, his kind and questioning eyes brushed over my face and then landed on my mouth. The rise and fall of my chest felt obnoxious as we stood there, tangled together with the last rays of sun searching for cracks of earth to brighten.
Dusk fell as his breathing mingled with mine. Neither of us closed our eyes as Levi leaned in and pressed a tentative kiss on my lips. He pulled away and held my gaze, seeking a reaction.
In response, I closed my eyes, waited for him to close the space between us.
It felt like an hour passed before his lips met mine. He kissed me with curious adoration. Craving his warmth, his care, and his song, I leaned in, eager to learn more about Levi Shaw through the feel of his skin against mine.
Before I could become breathless, he pulled away. I hated the cold that rushed between us. When I opened my eyes, I found him with raised brows and a slightly open mouth.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, sensing a sudden change.
He untwined his arms from my body and set me aside, then he leaned against the wood railing, head in his hands. He let out a soft groan.
Then, Levi’s back stiffened as he looked back to me. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He raked his hands through his hair. “We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
I turned away to steady myself on the railing. “Because you still love Lillian,” I said. Note to self: never kiss a guy after talking to him about his ex. It’s not as romantic as it sounds.
He stood beside me but left what felt like a field between us. “No. It’s not that.”
Since kissing him had never been my intention, I answered diplomatically, “Okay.” But the memory of his gentle lips seared through me like a burn that does most of its damage after the heat is gone. I didn’t realize how attracted I was to him until this moment.
Maybe attraction wasn’t the right word. Being with Levi was safe and easy. The bruises had faded, and all I saw now was my best friend.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
Was that a tremor in his hand? “Will you play?” I gestured to the guitar. We needed a distraction.
He left me at the railing and fitted it against his body to wash us in the cleansing embrace of a melody.
Soon, dusk evaporated into darkness.
But Levi didn’t sing.
Levi
The moment I pulled away from Marigold, I regretted it. Her hand rested lightly on my chest, her lips still warm from our kiss, beckoning me closer. But I couldn’t allow myself to continue when I was lying to her.
As my fingers absently strummed over the guitar strings, I longed for them to be intertwined with hers, cradling her gently against me.
Yes, this guitar was my wall. Because if I wasn’t holding it, I would be holding her instead.
Oh, how I wanted to.
But I couldn’t.
Why did she ask if I had more secrets? I hated myself for keeping what I knew from her. Fear stopped me. I was afraid she’d reject me. Reject the truth.
My biggest secret, the one that was growing into a lie by omission with each passing day, was that I knew where she came from. I knew she would never regain her memories. Withholding this truth from her made me feel like I liar.
But if I told her, she might not believe me. Worse—she might consider me crazy.
Some nights, with Marigold asleep and Finn nestled at the foot of my bed, I sometimes dared to open the journal that breathed life into their existence.
I’d think myself insane if I didn’t have the proof inside my bedroom. If I didn’t know the words by heart.
He loved her like the one he lost
But he didn’t know how much her love would cost . . .
How could I ask her to believe something as lofty as this?
She was a ghost of Ghost Mountain. And I, Levi Shaw, had created her with ink and pen.
I couldn’t allow her to love me under false pretenses, but I couldn’t tell her the truth either.
She sat a few feet away with a dazed expression, like she, too, was thinking about the kiss, wondering why it had to end.
“I’m going to bed,” she said as she stood.
“Marigold.”
She stopped with one foot over the threshold.
I wanted to tell her that I was falling in love with her, that maybe I already had, but instead, I said, “Goodnight.”
Sighing, she left me in the darkness.
A few minutes later, I stopped playing the guitar.
As I went to my bedroom, I noticed that her door was closed. Finn’s nails clicked on the hardwood behind me.
For hours I lay awake, contemplating my two options. I could tell her the truth, or I could keep it from her. As I gave into the heaviness of my eyelids, I realized both options would hurt her. I wasn’t saving her pain by keeping my knowledge—and yet I still couldn’t bring myself to do it.