Chapter 009 Levi
Her car is parked in the driveway, sitting there like a challenge I ain’t quite ready to accept. But I kill the engine anyway, staring at the front door. I hope to God she’s finally ready to talk. I need to know. I need answers, plain and simple. This shit is going to ruin me—ruin us—if I don’t find out where we stand.
I walk up the path, boots heavy on the concrete. I still don't even know how she pays for this place. To my knowledge, she has no job. She just goes to school. It’s another question on a pile of questions I’ve been too polite to ask.
"Levi? That you?" She calls out the second I step into the entryway.
"Yeah."
The smell hits me first. Thick, savory beef and onions. It smells wonderful in here. Like she’s had a pot roast in the slow cooker since dawn. It disarms me, just a little. It’s hard to be angry when the house smells like a home.
"You hungry?"
"I am now," I admit, walking toward the kitchen. "Jesus Christ, this must be what heaven smells like."
Shelly turns from the counter, smiling. She’s got an apron tied around her waist and matching oven mitts on her hands. It’s a domestic look that doesn’t quite fit the woman who screamed a pregnancy announcement in a crowded restaurant, but she wears it well.
"Have you been cooking all day?" I ask.
"Kind of. My girlfriends are coming over later. But I made enough for you, if you want some."
"Sure. I'm game."
I lean against the doorframe, half pleased she’s in a good mood, half worried. If she’s got company coming, she’s either not up for a serious talk, or she’s using the clock to run out the timer on me.
"What time is this shindig starting up?"
"Soon," she says, checking the oven. "They should be here in an hour. Y'all can stay for a bit if you want to meet them."
I hesitate. Part of me wants to stay, see if her friends bring out a different side of her—maybe the truth. But the other part of me has no desire to get tangled up in her social circle. Do they even know she’s pregnant? Do they know about me? Why is she offering?
"Um, I'll think about it." I decide to go for bold. No point dancing around it. "Do they know that you're pregnant?"
"No." She stirs a pot on the stove, not looking at me. "I haven't told anybody yet."
Interesting. The whole disaster at Wyatt’s wedding comes to mind, but I bite my tongue.
"Why not?"
She ignores the question completely. instead, she dips a wooden spoon into the pot and sticks it in my face. It’s steaming, smelling rich and salty.
"Taste this for me. Tell me if it needs anything else."
I take a bite. It’s perfect. Meat falling apart, seasoned just right. "No. I'd eat it as it is."
She washes the spoon off in the sink before placing it back into the pot. Then she reaches over and turns the radio up. It was playing softly before, but now some upbeat pop song fills the kitchen. She’s building a vibe, a party atmosphere, and my questions are threatening to kill it.
I need to try anyway.
"Do you mind answering a question?" I ask, raising my voice slightly over the music.
"What question is that?" She asks, breezy, like she didn't hear me the first time.
"Why didn't you tell your friends that you're pregnant?"
The oven mitts come off. She drops them on the counter with a slap. "Because I figured after the slip of my tongue at the wedding, it might set you off."
"It set everyone off, actually."
Wrong choice of words. I see it in her eyes immediately. Her face changes, hardening. A hand goes to her hip.
"Are you trying to pick a fight?"
"No. In fact, I came here because I want to talk to you about a few things."
Her jaw sets. She pulls a kitchen chair out and gestures for me to sit, but the movement is sharp. Aggressive. "So, sit. Talk."
She doesn't bother to turn the radio down. It’s a power move. She’s not about to let me ruin her mood, even though her face says I already have.
"Well, um," I start, sitting down. "I think we ought to talk about this baby."
She huffs, turning back to the counter to chop something that doesn’t need chopping. "What about it?"
"I chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. "What are we going to do about it?"
"Define 'do about it'."
"Are we keeping it? Are we giving it up for adoption? How far along are you? Things like that. Normal things that two people expecting a baby would have discussed already."
She stops chopping. A quick, sharp sigh escapes her. "Look, Levi. I don't have any answers right now, okay? Jesus Christ, here I am, trying to forget about my problems for the night, and here you are, reminding me of every last one of them."
"I'm sorry," I say, though my tone is anything but apologetic. "But we need to get this shit out in the open. I need to know."
"Why? Why do you need to know this very second, Levi?" She demands, spinning around to face me.
"It's not this very second, Shelly. Shit, we've known about this long enough. We've not discussed a goddamn thing, and I need to know."
"Why?" She throws her hands up. "If I say I'm keeping it, are you going to flee? What if I don't want it? Are you going to try to talk me down off the ledge? And why do I have to decide now, anyway? I'm in school, just like you are. I've got assignments and tests to worry about, too, you know."
"I get all that." I raise a hand, trying to level with her. "Really, I do. But nothing is going to get solved if we don't talk about it."
She slumps into the chair opposite me, looking defeated. I think it’s best to keep quiet while she thinks, let the silence do the work. But then my eyes drift to the counter behind her. The granite is bare.
I do something stupid.
"Are you married, Shelly?"
Slowly, icily, her gaze meets mine. Her voice drops low, a warning note vibrating in it. "Why would you ask me that."
"The rings," I say, pointing to the empty spot on the counter. "The ones that were sitting right there until just a few days ago. I figured y'all was married and now you're up shit's creek without a paddle."
Her snuffle is mirthless. Her smile is tight, like she can't believe the audacity. "Where do you get off?"
"What do you mean? When a woman that I'm seeing and is having my baby owns a pair of wedding rings one day and then they disappear the next, I think I have a right to know, or am I crazy?"
It's like she can't handle my angle on this. Her eyes flutter as she drags a hand through her hair. "Let's just get back to the subject at hand here, okay? I am pregnant. Beyond that, I don't have a goddamn clue what I'm going to do about it yet, okay? And the last thing I need is for you or anyone to come around and try to tell me what I should do."
"Then why did you blurt it out to an entire fucking restaurant?" I say aloud, letting the ire bleed into my voice.
She swallows hard. She’s so angry I swear to God there is smoke coming out of her ears. "I made a mistake. It was a Freudian slip. If I could take it back I would, but I can't, and you shoving that in my face right now is really low."
My chest heaves with a deep breath. I watch her for a second. She looks cornered. And maybe she is. I let the breath out slowly and place a hand on her arm.
"I'm sorry. Look, I'm no better at this than you are. We both aren't great with being put in surprise positions. I just... I want to be on the same page as you. If we're going to make these important decisions together, then we've got to talk it out first, that's all."
I pause and search her eyes. They’re softening some. Or maybe just calculating.
"Can you at least do me one favor, so that we're all on the same page?"
After a beat, she nods. "Sure."
"Can you go to the doctor and at least find out how much time we've got until a decision needs to be made? Figure out how far along you are?"
A swallow, and her voice evens out. "I can do that. But can we agree that we don't talk about this again until I do?"
"That sounds fair." I nod.
She leans forward and kisses me on the mouth. I kiss her back, instinctively, but it feels... different. There’s no spark. No heat. It’s dry. It’s like she's my fucking sister now.
I pull back, hiding the realization by changing the subject. I speak like I need to ask her something quick, casual.
"Okay, so, since this is going to be a PG party, do y'all want me to head down to the Cineplex and grab you some movie popcorn or something?"
"They're bringing guacamole and junk food, but thanks." She stands up, smoothing her apron.
I lift a brow. "Isn't guacamole going to make you hurl?"
She waves a hand. "No. I don't eat it, anyway. It's for my vegan friend."
"Remind me to steer clear of her."
"It's a he." Her eyes flash with a hint of amusement.
Another brow lift. "Really?"
"He also likes nail polish, Elton John, and tonight we're watching Cher's concert on Netflix."
"So, he's gay."
She gives me a look that says, Bingo, and clucks her tongue. "And I'm bringing him with me to this Copper Cove Hoedown, because he died when he found out that I was going and know someone else that was going, too."
My voice is flat, unimpressed. "Why."
"Because he's dying to have a fling with a small-town cowboy, and he swears that there's no decent ones right here in Dallas."
We hear a knock at the door. Her eyes light up instantly, the tension from our conversation vanishing like it never existed.
"Oh, that's them now!"
### Shelly
Finally.
God, I mean, Levi is sweet and all, but I just couldn’t take another minute of that. Things got all kinds of serious there. He was digging, and I don't like it when people dig. What I need is to kick back and relax, but I don’t want to put it out there that Levi isn’t welcome to meet my friends, either. It’s a delicate balance. These girls have gotten me through thick and thin over the years, and I haven’t seen them since I met Levi.
Not that that’s his fault or anything.
As soon as I open up the front door, Darla, my tall, knockout friend, opens her arms wide and squeals at my presence.
"Girl, I feel like it’s been years!" She hugs me tight, smelling of expensive perfume and hairspray. Then she thumbs behind her, toward the driveway. "Did you see that kick-ass truck out there? Who belongs to that?"
Laz, my gay friend, interjects before I can answer. He’s already sizing up Levi, who is standing in the hallway behind me, looking about as comfortable as a cat in a bathtub.
"That can only be driven by some hot cowboy," Laz says, eyeing Levi up and down. "And just look who’s right in front of us. Shells, are you going to introduce us to this tall drink of water here?"
"Laz, Darla, this is Levi," I say, stepping aside. "My boyfriend."
Like the gallant dude that he is, Levi sticks his hand out for them both to shake. "Nice to meet you," he says politely, adding a little nod.
"Oh, girl," Laz gushes, taking Levi's hand a little too eagerly. "This is going to shape up to be an interesting evening."
Levi looks like he wants to bolt. "Oh, I can’t stay. I’ve got studying to do."
Now it’s Darla's turn to size him up. She gives him a sideways glance, lips curving into a smirk. "That’s a shame, doll."
I pick up on the facetious tone in her voice. She thinks he’s rustic. Quaint.
As they come away from the door, Levi squeezes his way through, practically hugging the wall to avoid touching them. "It was so nice meeting y’all. Have a nice evening."
"Oh, we sure will," Laz comments flirtatiously.
I give Levi a quick wave goodbye and close the door. The lock clicks, and I feel my shoulders drop three inches.
"I swear to God you should check for skid marks after he leaves," Darla comments, kicking off her heels.
"That there is the poster boy for homophobia if I’ve ever seen one before," Laz volunteers, heading straight for the kitchen.
"He’s just from a small town," I say, defending him out of habit more than conviction.
"Well, honey, I hope for both of our sakes, that they’re not all like that."
Darla sniffs the air. "Have you been cooking all day?"
"I was doing it to impress my man, but I can see that turned to hell."
"More for us," Laz says, already lifting the lid on the pot roast.
We settle into the living room, spreading out the snacks they brought. Bags of chips, expensive crackers, three different kinds of dip. I bring out the casserole dish and some plates. None of us drink anymore. We did all the drinking that we needed to do years ago. We’re food people now.
The music gets turned up, and for a while, we do the usual dancing in the living room, turning my house into a nightclub. It feels good to shake off the interrogation Levi put me through.
As we eat, wiping grease off our fingers, Darla turns to me. "So, I saw Gary last week."
My stomach tightens. "My brother Gary or my ex?" I clarify.
"Your brother."
I am unimpressed. "What did he want."
"Nothing. He looked like shit though. Worse than the last time I ran into him."
"Am I supposed to care?" My question is rhetorical.
"Not really. No more than the last time I told you about running into him. Should I save my breath next time?"
"I’ve got nothing to say to him. And nothing to say to my ex, Gary, either."
Laz lifts a finger, swallowing a mouthful of guacamole. "Did you finally do what I've been telling you to do all this time? Since the last time we had this conversation?"
"Yes."
"And how much did you get?" Laz asks, in that 'I told you so' tone he loves to use.
"Actually, more than you said I would."
Laz sits up higher on the couch, suddenly much more interested. "Like, how much more?"
"Let’s just say that I won’t be taking a part-time job like I did last year."
Darla’s eyes widen. She stops chewing. "Really. You sure know how to pick them."
Laz switches back to unimpressed, waving a chip in the air. "Please. Honey, if that boy is living on a ranch, struggling through college, then he is not going to have a bank account like Gary does. Hell, for all we know, that truck could be on payments until he retires."
I smile. A slow, satisfied smile.
"He spent five figures on a picture," I say casually. "Paid it in cash. Saw it with my own two eyes."
Both girls’ eyes dart to me. The room goes silent except for Cher belting out a ballad on the TV.
"Gasps come out of both of their mouths," Darla states, blinking rapidly. "You’re fucking kidding me."
I shake my head. "Nope."
"And he’s in school, too?"
"That’s right."
I watch them process this. They’re looking at me with new respect. Maybe even a little envy. I’m dying to tell them about my latest plan. The mother of all plans. The one that secures everything. But the looks on their faces are just too delicious to spoil with details right now.
I’ll save that for another day.
### Levi
As I pull away from that fucking circus, I rake a hand through my hair. The truck cab feels quiet, sane.
What the hell am I gonna do now?
Sure, we’ve made an agreement to not bring up the baby or anything else until she’s gone to the doctor, but still. I’m worried. For someone who was so distraught that she couldn’t speak about our issues, she sure seemed awfully loose with her friends. It was like a switch flipped. One minute she’s the stressed student, the next she’s hosting a gala.
Now, I don’t know a thing about what a woman’s body or mind goes through when they’re pregnant. Before I judge, I should really figure that one out first. I need a baseline.
The only way to do that, of course, is to talk to someone who is pregnant. Someone sane.
I know it’s late, but as I drive by Cassidy and Crystal‘s house, I see that the light is still on. Knowing them, they’re still up working. Crystal answers the door five seconds after I knock on it. Her swollen belly is obvious under her T-shirt, pushing against the fabric.
"Levi," she says, blinking in the porch light. "What a nice surprise. Come on in."
"I hope it’s not too late. I saw your light on."
She waves me in. "Please. I can’t eat during the day, so I eat at night. You hungry?"
"Actually, yes. I haven’t eaten dinner yet." The pot roast at Shelly's was just a tease.
"Well, sit down. Take a load off."
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
I hear footsteps coming down the hallway, heavy boots on wood. "Hey, Levi. I thought I heard someone coming in," Cassidy says, wiping his hands on a rag.
"I was just saying to Crystal here, I hope it’s not too late."
Cassidy walks over to the stove where Crystal is stirring something, and he kisses her quickly on the cheek. It’s a small gesture, easy and natural. The kind of thing I don’t have. "Our hours are all over the place with junior here. Some days we’re up until midnight, while others were in bed by eight o’clock."
Crystal sets a plate in front of me. Beef stew. I have no idea what it is about tonight and beef, but it smells amazing, so I eat up.
"Were you just in the neighborhood, or did you have something on your mind?" Cassidy asks, pulling out a chair.
I clear my throat, setting the fork down. "I’m sure you’ve all heard the news."
Crystal lets out a deep breath, leaning against the counter. "Is there anything we can do?"
"Maybe you can help me understand something. Does your brain do all kinds of weird and crazy things when you’re pregnant?"
Crystal and Cassidy exchange a look. Crystal nods slowly. "Well, sure, yeah. I mean, your body goes through all sorts of different things. Hormones are wild. But why don’t you give me an example?"
I tip my chair back slightly and clasp my fingers behind my head. "She doesn’t want to talk about the baby. She keeps changing the subject. She wants to go to the doctor first before we discuss anything. And the mood swings... it’s like whiplash."
Cassidy frowns. "This wasn’t expected. The lady is caught off guard, I’m guessing."
"Your baby was unexpected, too, wasn’t it?"
Unconsciously, Crystal places a hand on her belly. "True, but some women don’t take it as well. She’s probably scared, Levi. And as far as her blurting it out to the entire restaurant, she probably didn’t mean to, and she’s probably embarrassed. It could be a pain point for her. I don’t know if that helps or not."
"She seemed pretty aloof when her friends came to visit earlier," I say, thinking back to the smirk on Darla's face. "Maybe it’s just that she’s crazy in my company."
"Her girlfriends are important to her," Crystal says gently. "Just like mine are important to me, too. Your girlfriends are what get you through the tough times. I think if you give her some space, Levi, she’ll come around."
Cassidy leans back in his chair and rests his boots on the chair on the other side. "How’s school going? I understand that you met her at school."
"School is great," I say, grateful for the subject change. "I set up a drafting table at the ranch, and I’m working on designing my dream house. It looks more like a Lego house at the moment, but it’ll come. Billy’s been saying that he wants to build a bunk house. He wants me to help him design it when he’s ready."
Crystal smiles, her face brightening. "Well, gosh, Levi. Your face just lit up like a Christmas tree."
I can’t help but return the smile. It feels good to talk about something I can control. Something I can build.
"That’s a beautiful picture you put up in your room there, my friend," Cassidy says. "Where did you get that?"
I can feel my cheeks heat. Just mentioning it—mentioning her—makes my heart skip a beat. "From that studio downtown. Didn’t Billy tell you?"
That’s a true testament to how trustworthy Billy is. He hasn't blabbed.
Cassidy shakes his head. "He just said it belongs to you when I asked. I figured Piper had picked it up for the resort or something. I had no idea it was yours until Billy said so. You got it from that studio next to the antique store? The one where Buddy runs the place, right?"
"Yes. Have you been inside?"
"To the antique store, a couple of times, but I never bought anything," Cassidy explains. "The photography studio I've never gone into though. Word in town is that it's something else. I suppose it must be if y'all bought something from there."
"It is something else," I say quietly. "Nash thinks I'm nuts for buying the picture."
Cassidy changes legs, crossing the opposite leg over. "Well, he's just looking out for you is all. That's what big brothers do."
Crystal changes the subject again, her tone shifting to something more somber. "Your daddy off to rehab yet?"
I shrug, the warmth draining out of me. "No idea. Don't care, neither. Far as I'm concerned, he can drop dead. I've got no interest in seeing him, so long as he doesn't try to kill anyone else."
Cassidy and Crystal exchange another look. They know the history. Everybody does.
"Yeah, I know that he didn't try to kill Braylynn, but it comes close," I continue, the anger bubbling up familiar and hot in my gut. "She was a fool for letting him go like that. Daddy ain't fool enough to push me around anymore. I'll throw the book at him. Nash still lets him have his way with him when he's ploughed but not me. Maybe now that daddy almost took out Nash's girl, he'll grow a pair."
Crystal places her hand on mine. Her skin is warm. "Levi, what's going on? This isn't like you. I've never heard you have an ill word towards anyone before."
I look at her, really look at her. She sees the exhaustion in my eyes. The weight of the secrets. The confusion about Shelly. The longing for something I can’t have.
"Maybe that's because I never met anyone that mattered before," I say.
I don't add the part where that person I'm talking about isn't Shelly.