1. Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Present . . .
“Thanks again for picking me up at the airport. You really didn’t have to; I could have taken a taxi,” I tell Levi, stepping out of a famous Jones hug. His hug transports me back to simpler times—to being just another kid in the Jones’ household, the smell of his mom’s cooking, and his dad yelling at us to stop running in the house. It’s like being home.
He’s giving me another squeeze. Wrapping my arms around him, I find myself leaning in a little more and trying my hardest not to let the tears fall as he runs his hand up and down my back. “Seriously? Do you think my mom would let me live if she were to ever find out I made you take a taxi?”
Not waiting for me to answer, he pulls back and sees my eyes watering. “Hey, no crying. Summer told me I couldn’t let you cry because you’ve cried enough. Plus, I have Indian food from that restaurant you got me hooked on waiting for you at home. You can’t cry while eating pakora, it’s a house rule,” he says as he gives me one last squeeze before grabbing the handle of my medium-sized, black suitcase.
“Just this one?” he asks, looking around, searching for more matching luggage. “There’s no way this is the only thing you have.” Probably recalling how many bags Summer and I used to pack for a simple weekend of camping.
“Yeah, just this one,” I answer softly with a shrug. “This is supposed to be a fresh start, so I just brought the necessities.” Most of the things I had weren’t me, or they weren’t the me I wanted to see in the mirror. They were the me that Lucas had created, the me he had forced me to become over the years. He had an opinion about everything—from how I cut my hair, to the pants I wore, and even the hobbies I had. So when my divorce settlement came in and I got paid out from the house we owned together, I decided to quit my job and move in with Levi. I also decided that I was only bringing the things I had picked for myself, the things I liked. I was starting over. I was starting the life I had always envisioned for myself, or at least I hope so. So far, it hasn’t been that easy.
I’m not going to lie and say he was my first choice in a post-divorce roommate, but there’s no way I was moving back in with my parents, and Summer just wasn’t an option. She doesn’t even have an apartment in the country anymore; her work with doctors without borders keeps her everywhere but home.
“Fair enough,” he answers, not wanting to push the subject, as we make our way to the exit of the Calgary airport in comfortable silence. Unlike his five siblings, Levi knew when to be silent and when to push for information, a trait that I was appreciating now more than ever.
We make the entire thirty-minute drive from the airport to his house in comfortable silence, neither of us knowing what to say. I’m still embarrassed that at almost thirty years old I’m moving in with my best friend’s younger brother. At this point, he’s probably sensing that I’m hanging on by a thread and doesn’t want to make me cry. I’m given a little reprieve from my wandering sad thoughts, as we pull up to a dark-blue, two-story house. It’s gorgeous. It reminds me a little bit of his parents’ house, with the attached garage, big flower beds in front of a dark-stained porch, with a porch swing hanging to the left of the door. The house is just far enough away from the road, with trees lining the front of the property, so you can actually enjoy the porch swing without people being able to see you.
When I walk in, I can’t say that I’m surprised. I’ve seen some parts of his house over FaceTime here and there over the two years he’s been living here, but never got a full tour. It’s exactly as I imagined it. Nothing is out of place, no shoes in the doorway, no bag thrown on the floor. I bet if I open the closet door to the right of the entryway, all of his shoes are perfectly lined up and color coded, same with his coats. We used to laugh at him when he was younger because of this specific trait of his. I’m happy to see all our teasing didn’t deter him.
What does surprise me though, is the bright red, sectional couch taking up most of his living room. I was not expecting a bright color from him. His room was beige growing up, by his own choosing. Now, not only does he have a red couch, but he has multiple perfectly-placed, colorful throw pillows. The couch should be too big for the space, but it just makes the open concept house feel cozy and inviting.
“Yes, I still need things to be organized, and yes, I now like bright colors,” Levi answers with an eye roll, clearly knowing what was going through my mind, making me smile.
I take a few steps further into his house, or our house I should say. I guess I’m officially moved in, since my one and only bag has followed me in. Kicking off my sandals, I can’t help but make my way into the living room, letting the shaggy area rug whisper against my feet, bringing a smile to my face. Or, my smile might be because I finally notice the fireplace with a huge, flat screen TV mounted on top facing the couch.
Joining me in the living room, he says, “This is one of my favorite parts of the house. You’ll find every possible streaming service on the TV.” He motions to the stairs on the left between the living room and kitchen. “The bedrooms are all upstairs. I mean, there is one in the basement, but it’s nothing compared to the one I got ready for you upstairs.”
Past the staircase, there’s a door that Levi tells me is a bathroom, but the real masterpiece in the house is the kitchen. It’s a Pinterest-perfect kitchen.
“And the real reason I bought this place,” Levi says, sweeping his arms at the kitchen in front of us. “Double oven, range stove, butcher block island with a wine fridge, patio doors leading to the deck, and the smoker. What more can a man ask for?” he says, admiring his immaculate kitchen, making me smile at his happiness.
“Ahh . . . so you’re the one that got your dad’s cooking gene I see. Should I be expecting home-cooked meals then?” Growing up as part of his family, all of us kids would count down to Sundays. Sundays were Mr. Jones’s day in the kitchen. Mrs. Jones would get the day off from having to deal with us so Mr. Jones would make us breakfast, then divide us into cleaning teams before making us the most delicious meal. They painted the picture of the perfect family. The type of family I always thought I’d have one day. Unlike my lonely house. My parents were always so busy with work, I swear they didn’t even notice that I spent more time at the Jones family home than ours.
“Whenever I’m home and not on the road you sure can. Nothing relaxes me more than cooking,” he answers as he grabs take-out containers from the oven, along with some plates from the cupboard, and some utensils from the drawer in the kitchen island, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“I knew you’d probably be hungry once you got off the plane. Travelling always makes me hungry, so I ordered supper to be delivered before I had to go pick you up,” he explains. “If you want to grab the bottle of wine by the fridge, glasses are in the cupboard just beside the sink,” he says, bringing everything into the living room. “I’ll show you to your room once you’ve eaten, unless you want me to give you a tour before we eat so you can shower?”
“If I take a shower I’m going right to bed.”
“Perfect. Food first, then bed.”
Two bites in, the inevitable happens—he asks about Lucas. I knew it was going to happen, but it doesn’t make it easy to talk about. I didn’t tell any of the boys what really happened between Lucas and I. Not even Mr. Jones. I had a three-way Zoom call with Summer and Mrs. Jones to go over all the gory details of my failed marriage and for moral support. Both of them have been a godsend in the last year, keeping me sane as I navigate the realities of divorce. It was Mrs. Jones that suggested I move in with Levi to get a fresh start. My mother, on the other hand, suggested I move past Lucas’s transgressions, stating “men in his position will do what they do,” making me question her entire relationship with my father.
“All right, so are you gonna tell me if I still need to hire a hitman for this ex-husband of yours?”
“No hitman needed,” I answer with a stiff laugh. I knew he was going to ask. He didn’t ask any questions when I announced I was getting divorced, or when I asked whether his offer to let me come visit was still on the table. He didn’t even press me for answers when I asked whether the offer to visit extended to letting me stay for a bit while I figured out my life.
Other than asking if I was okay, or if he needed to come get me, and the date I wanted to move, he didn’t ask anything, which I appreciated at the time. I don’t think I could have handled him, or any of the boys, knowing all the gory details that was the dumpster fire of my life, but he is housing me for free, which I need to talk to him about again. I might not be working at the moment, but I did get a good settlement in the divorce, and my finance degree did come in handy for my personal finances. I could easily afford to pay rent, even though I’m on leave. I guess I do owe him some form of explanation though. Taking a deep breath I go to start . . .
“You don’t have to tell me what happened. I can see your brain trying to work out what to tell me. Summer told me the gist of it. If I remember correctly, she said that your ex-husband was a ‘son-of-a-bitch-good-for-nothing-asshole-who-I-hope-gets-syphilis.’” To which I burst out laughing until I have tears running down my face.
“God, I miss your sister, she always knows exactly what to say,” I tell him, once I’ve stopped laughing. “How about you open that bottle of wine and I tell you what happened? Get it out of the way, then I can go to sleep, wake up. and never have to think about him again. But if I tell you, you have to promise not to tell your brothers. We can’t have Lincoln going back to jail.”
Laughing, Levi says, “Oh god! I forgot he spent a night in jail for sneaking into the chief of police’s house to see his girlfriend! I’ll never say no to a bottle of wine in the off-season, but we don’t have to talk about it.”
“Open the wine and I’ll tell you. It might be cathartic, plus you’re a man, maybe you’ll be able to tell me where I went wrong,” I say, stealing the last pakora.
“As a man, and someone who’s known you for as long as I can remember, I can promise you that you did nothing wrong. But you do have me worried, why wouldn’t you want any of us boys to know what happened?” Levi asks, handing me a glass of wine.
Draining half of my glass and refilling it, I look up, begging the tears to stay put. I take deep breaths, wondering what happened to that wild child who said she would never let a man make her cry. Shaking my head with one more deep breath, I tighten my grip on my wine glass.
“Remember you called me two years ago? When you were about to move here and I was at a random bar in Toronto?” I say glancing at him and taking another sip of wine. “And you commented on how Lucas just left me to sit alone at a bar in a strange city? Well, it wasn’t the first time nor was it the last time. I was often left on my own but expected to meet his every demand and need. If I’m being completely honest, that’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to my marriage.” Shaking my head in shame as the first tears start to fall. “I somehow became the woman I never wanted to be, I started living just for him. I thought I was happy; I thought I had a husband who loved and respected me. A husband who saw how I sacrificed myself, my dreams, all to make sure he could reach his. I thought I had a partner, I thought I was on my way to having what your parents have. I guess I’m just ashamed of how my life turned out, of the person I’ve become over the last few years,” I say with a watery smile.
“You’ve always been a nurturer and a giver. I remember as a kid you were the only one who would stay with me, holding my hand until I fell asleep whenever my parents would leave the older kids in charge of me and Lawson. Lucas clearly didn’t respect that and took advantage of it. Don’t beat yourself up because he chose to be an asshole,” Levi starts but I don’t let him finish.
“That’s not the worse part.” I finish my glass of wine, only to fill it back up, earning me a look of concern from Levi. “He wanted a baby; I wasn’t ready. I thought I had more time to accomplish my dreams—I’m only twenty-nine. I was twenty-five when we had the conversation. I wanted to accomplish certain things first. He had let the topic go for a couple of years, but had ramped up his efforts, if I can call it that, a few months before you moved to Calgary. Again, I told him we could have the conversation in a few years, and finally he said he understood. I should have known something was up when he changed his tune. Other than a few comments here and there, he didn’t push the subject much; then he stopped even bringing up the subject completely. Turns out he will be a dad, or already is at this point, with his twenty-year-old intern.” Wiping at the tears that are freely falling at this point, I continue, “She’s not the only other woman either. Apparently, he had been cheating on me for three years, pretty much since we had gotten married.” I hiccup.
“So, here I am, twenty-nine years old, divorced, jobless, living with and off of a twenty-three-year-old. I wasted my twenties,” I say swiping at my cheeks, feeling the three glasses of wine I just drank.
Continuing on the same tangent of wasted twenties. “When I was going through my stuff, packing, I found an old Bucket List your sister and I made when we were fifteen. I had forgotten all about it. Want to know how many things I’ve crossed off that list?” I ask with a humourless laugh. “None. That’s how many. We were supposed to accomplish the List before we turned thirty. Lucas took the driver’s seat of my own life, and the minute I didn’t want to live his life plan, he found someone who would fulfill his goals. It’s like I was expendable, a means to an end.” Taking a deep breath, I wipe at the snot I can feel running down my face as Levi hands me a tissue. “The List isn’t even filled with crazy things. That’s the worst part. It’s a boring list, juvenile really, and I haven’t crossed anything off it. It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic.” I finished refilling my wine glass with the last of the bottle.
Always the fixer out of all seven of us, Levi finds a solution. “You’re twenty-nine, you have a year to get it done. Get it done this year, while you live with me. I make more money than I can even think of spending; take advantage of it. You know I won’t accept any rent from you, so take some time off and get it done.”
Putting a hand up, I stop him right there. “I told you I was going to pay you rent. I’m not going to live here like a freeloader. Besides, I’ll be thirty at the end of August, so I don’t have a year, I barely have five months.”
“You’re not a freeloader. Because you’ve moved in, I don’t have to pay my neighbor to keep an eye on the house, or to feed my fish, or keep the place clean when I’m gone. Seriously, you’re saving me money by living here. Plus, it gets pretty lonely living here alone. So really, it’s a win-win. I don’t have to live alone, and you get to rediscover the Hannah that would spend all her free time thinking up some weirdo plan in our basement with my sister. You will finally get to finish your Bucket List.”
“I don’t know. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
“You’re not. Hannah, come on, you’re family. You would do the same for my sister, and if my mom called you about one of us boys needing help you would drop everything and help. Now enough stalling, let me see this Bucket List.”
Rolling my eyes now that the tears have stopped, I grab the faded blue folded piece of paper from my purse and hand it to him. Scanning the list, he says, “You’re gonna have to explain this list to me. Yoga? Neither of you can walk a straight line without falling. And what in the world is a ‘Princess Diaries Kiss’?”
Taking the list back from him with an eye roll, I start explaining each item to him. “Such a guy.
“Number 1: Start doing yoga. We were in our Bring-It-On phase, and as you said neither of us are very athletically gifted, so we figured the closest thing we would ever get to cheerleading or gymnastics was yoga.
“Number 2: Go on an overnight hike. I remember this. Some of our friends were going out camping for a weekend, and somehow your older brothers Liam and Lincoln heard about it and convinced your dad that letting us go would be a terrible idea, so we decided to add it to the List.
“Number 3: Learn to line dance. Before TikTok there were Vines, and they made line dancing look like so much fun.
“Number 4: Adopt a rescue animal. Remember when Summer and I found an injured raccoon and snuck it into the house that one summer? Then your mom found out and made us bring it to a wildlife rescue? That’s the inspiration behind that one.
“Number 5: Go to an MLB game. Jason Connors. Your sister had the biggest crush on that guy, and he was all about baseball.
“Number 6: Do a Pedal Pub. Again, this was inspired by the Vines, and the fact that the weekend we made this list was the same weekend your dad grounded us for sneaking out to a party the weekend before.
“Number 7: Ride a horse. When we were about five or six, Summer begged and begged you mom for horseback riding lessons. Your mom finally gave in and mine agreed as long as yours would drive me to and from. Anyway, when we got there, Summer started saying her eyes were itchy and started coughing and stuff. Your mom assumed she must be allergic to horses, so we never did get any lessons. Ten years later, when we wrote this list, Summer finally admitted that she had lied about being allergic. She was just terrified and hadn’t realized horses were that big.
“Number 8: Spend an entire day reading in front of a fireplace during a storm. This was more about having our own place to live and not having to deal with you and Lawson always running around.
“Number 9: Write a Book. This was mine. It’s been a goal of mine for the longest time.
”Number 10: Have the perfect Princess Diaries kiss. If you don’t know what the perfect princess-diaries-leg-pop kiss is, you are severely missing out and need to watch The Princess Diaries ASAP.
“And finally, Number 11, I’d like to point out that this was added a couple years later once we’d had a more than a few lackluster experiences: Have life changing sex. I think that’s pretty self explanatory,” I finish with a blush.
“Well, you can easily accomplish all of those here in Calgary. Honestly, you should be able to accomplish them all before your thirtieth birthday. Especially with my help—which I offer for nine out of the eleven goals. I am not helping with number eleven, even though I’m sure one night with me could change your life,” Levi states with a cocky smirk, which has us both laughing until I’m crying again.