Better Off Friends

inch long at the top and appeared darker, more dirty blond,

probably since his “newer” hair hadn’t seen much sun.

“What do you think?” Levi asked, eyes wide.

“I like it.” I really did, even if it was the same haircut most of the guys in school had.

“Really?” He was staring at himself in the mirror. “You

really like it?”

“Yes.” I came over and couldn’t help but run my fingers

through it. “It’s so short, but it looks nice on you.”

Levi trembled at my touch, probably not used to having

anything or anyone be so close to his neck.

31

He jumped out of the chair. “Let’s go do something.”

“Um, I thought we were doing something. We’re at the mall.”

He groaned. “You know that’s not what I meant. Let’s go

play mini golf or go to the park or do something.”

I glanced at my watch. “I can’t. I have to get everything

ready for tonight.”

His shoulders sank down in defeat. “Okay. But Mom’s

really insisting on bringing something. And she only gets

annoyed at me when I say you don’t need anything.”

“I don’t want her to bring anything. This is my supper for

you guys, a thankyou to your family for everything and a

celebration for us that school’s starting next week.”

He shook his head. “You’re the only person who gets excited

that school’s starting. Haven’t we had an awesome summer?”

It had been a great summer. But I still craved the disci-pline the school year gave me.

I still needed the distractions.

I knew Dad was only trying to help, but I had everything

planned down to the minute. I’d taken some cooking classes

at the Y over the summer and had been getting better at it.

I was making the salad while the lasagna was baking in

the oven.

“You sure you don’t need anything?” he asked for the seventh time.

“Seriously, Dad, I’ve got it. Please go do something, anything. Go watch TV with Adam.”

He chuckled. “You sound exactly like your mother.” It was

the first time he’d mentioned Mom without getting sad. Instead, 32

he was laughing. Of course, he was laughing at me, but I didn’t have time to get upset about it. I had garlic bread to toast.

Luckily, the doorbell saved me, and Dad went to let Levi

and his parents in. I heard a scattering of their greetings.

“Smells amazing!” Mrs. Rodgers greeted me in the kitchen.

“I don’t want to be in your way at all; I only wanted you to

know that it all smells delicious.”

Dad followed her with a bottle of wine in his hand, most

likely a gift from Levi’s parents. Then I saw Levi and almost

didn’t recognize him with his new haircut. It took me a second to realize he had flowers in his hand. His dad came

behind him and gestured.

“Oh, yeah,” Levi said, taking the cue. “Um, for the

chef.” He handed me the flowers, his cheeks ruddy from

embarrassment.

“Thanks!” I hastily grabbed them.

Levi’s dad winked at Mrs. Rodgers before giving me a hug.

I was especially honored that Dr. Rodgers could make it. He

worked such long hours, he usually didn’t make it home in

time for supper at his own house.

I shooed them all out of the kitchen so I could finish the

meal. I couldn’t help but smile when their voices and laughter

drifted into the kitchen. It was nice to have joyful noise fill the house again. Every once in a while, I’d hear Adam groan

and knew that Levi was trash-talking about the upcoming

football season. You’d think he’d learn to keep his affinity for the Bears on the down low in Packers country.

The timer on the oven dinged just as I put the salad on the

dining room table. We hadn’t eaten there since my tenth

33

birthday. There hadn’t been much reason to celebrate or

break out the good china in a while.

I looked over the table one last time before calling them in,

making sure everything was in place. I felt my chest swell

with pride as everybody came in and made a fuss.

Once everybody dug in, quiet fell over the table, except for

the occasional compliment on the salad. I then served the

lasagna with garlic bread before bringing out the chocolate

cake I’d made for dessert.

“Cake, too!” Mrs. Rodgers patted her slim waist. “I’m glad

I signed up for back-to-back spin class tomorrow morning!”

“Oh,” I said, “the cake’s only from a box. I haven’t started

taking any baking courses yet.”

Her eyes got wide. “Honey, this is all amazing. I now feel

like I need to up my game next time you come over for dinner.”

I wanted to get up and hug her. Sitting around the table

with everybody together made me realize how much I missed

moments like that. I had forgotten what it was like to enjoy a

meal together as a family. We’d gotten into the habit of making sandwiches or ordering in. We needed to have the TV on

to fill in the silence. Because sometimes silence speaks much

louder than words possibly could.