I rotated my body to face him. His gaze searched my face, as if he was wondering where my mind had escaped to. His brow grew knit and gloomy.
“I’m so sorry, Art.” His lips hardened, and he pressed them to my forehead as he spoke. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” I said. “Me too.”
“We’ll be all right,” he promised me. “Just not today.”
45 Levi
Aria was in the hospital for the next two days. When Mr. and Mrs. Watson brought her home, I was waiting on her porch with my violin. I leaped up and hurried over to them.
She stepped out of the backseat and gave me a warily smile. She looked exhausted.
“Levi, hey. How are you?” Mrs. Watson grinned my way.
“I’m okay. How are you?” I asked her. My eyes moved to Aria. “How are you?”
Aria’s eyes blinked. She shrugged.
“I think she just needs some rest. Maybe you can come back in a little while?” Mrs. Watson offered.
I watched her daughter’s lips part as if she wanted me to stay, but then her dad agreed with her mom.
My fingers ran through my hair and I nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be back later.”
I walked around the block a few times before I headed to Aria’s bedroom window, which was already opened, waiting for me to step inside. She sat on her mattress as I started playing the violin. Mr. Watson stepped into the doorway when he heard the sounds, but instead of asking me to leave, he closed the door, giving Aria and I privacy.
I played “All Of Me” by John Legend, allowing the strings to voice the words I wasn’t saying. I played the song over and over again until she fell asleep with a smile on her lips.
And I kept playing until I knew she was smiling in her dreams, too.
* * *
She was doing better and better each day, but I knew she was still hurting. I wished I could take her pain and make it go away.
After a few days, I convinced Lance to allow me to stay at Dad’s house for a night. When I opened his refrigerator, I almost lost it seeing the cases of root beer sitting inside.
I’m still hurting. I wish I could take my pain and make it go away.
Grabbing a pack of root beer, I headed out to the woods and climbed up to the tree house.
The quietness of nature was peaceful, but I was happy when I heard a grumbling girl climbing up the ladder.
“Climbing trees isn’t something that one should do after giving birth.” Aria smiled, stepping into the tree house.
I laughed. “You know what? I was thinking the same thing. But since you’re here, welcome to my oasis. To the left you’ll find nothing, to the right, a case of root beer.”
“Your interior design skills are impressive.”
“What can I say? I’m fancy.”
She bit her bottom lip and tilted her head. “I love you.”
“I love you."
* * *
Aria.
Levi and I sat in the tree house for hours, sometimes crying, other times laughing until tears fell. He was the best kind of oxymoron. When I was with him I could be a sad kind of happy and be content with the feeling.
“Why did you eat lunch with him every day?”
“Because that’s what you would’ve done,” I replied. He tossed his emptied root beer can to the side of the room before he leaned into me and kissed my lips gently, sending a wave of happiness through me. “Can I read you the speech I wrote for him?”
“Yes.”
I reached into my jeans’ pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. I opened it, and smiled. “Kent Myers wasn’t an asshole. Most of the people who crossed his path would disagree based on the way he treated them, based on his actions, but he wasn’t an asshole. He was a man who made mistakes. A man who tried to fix those mistakes all on his own, which sometimes led to him to making things worse. He didn’t always say the right thing, or always behave in the best light, but he tried. He tried to be good. He tried to protect the ones he loved.
“A few days before he passed away, he asked me if I could hold his shaky hand. I linked my fingers with his and he said, ‘Will he be okay?’ speaking of his son. ‘Will he be okay?’ he repeated over and over, tears falling from his eyes. I nodded to him and said, ‘Yes. You’ll both be okay.’ He closed his eyes and muttered, ‘He’ll be okay.’ He slept that night more peaceful than all the nights before. He didn’t say another sentence in his life. There are so many words in the world, and his final ones were crafted solely for his son. Today I want to make two facts known: Kent Myers wasn’t an asshole, and he sure did love his son.”
Levi moved closer to me, placing his lips against my forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Always,” I replied.
That night our conversation came in waves. We went from silence to nonstop speaking over and over again.
“They named him Easton Michael Landon,” I told him quietly.
“What? That’s ridiculous.” He groaned. “I was really hoping for something more food related. Apple. Or Eggplant. Or…”
“Broccoli.” I giggled.
“God, yes. Broccoli Kale Landon. It just rolls off of the tongue.”