Levi’s face went nearly blank. He smiled politely.
Her dad looked at Cath and remembered that he was going to hug her. “Are you hungry?” he said. “Is it dinnertime? I’ve been in a Franken-fog all day.”
“Did you guys get the Frankenbeans account?” she asked.
“Still pitching. Eternally pitching. So, Levi,” he said, “are you staying for dinner?”
“Oh,” Levi said. “Thank you, sir, but I better get back while there’s still some light.”
Cath wheeled around. “Are you kidding me? You’re not driving back to Lincoln in this.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Four-wheel drive. Snow tires. Cell phone.”
“No,” Cath said harshly. “Don’t be an idiot. We’re lucky that we got here okay—you’re not going back.”
Levi bit his lips and raised his eyebrows helplessly.
Her dad walked past them to the door. “Jesus,” he said from the porch. “She’s right, Levi—I’m just going to keep saying your name until I remember it, is that okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
Cath pulled on Levi’s sleeve. “You’re staying, all right?”
He licked his bottom lip nervously. She wasn’t used to seeing him nervous. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered.
“Okay,” her dad said, walking back into the living room, “dinner…” He still looked like he was in a Franken-fog.
“I got it,” Cath said. “You keep working. You look like you’re on to something.”
He smiled at her gratefully. “Thanks, honey. Just give me another half hour to sort through this.” He turned back to his concepts. “Levi, take off your coat.”
Cath started taking off her boots and hung her coat on a hook. She pulled on Levi’s sleeve again. “Take off your coat.”
He did.
“Come on,” she said, walking into the kitchen. Everything seemed in order. She glanced into her dad’s room and into the bathroom. No toothpaste poetry.
“I’m sorry,” Levi said when they got into the kitchen.
“Shut up,” she said. “You’re making me nervous.”
“I should go.”
“Not as nervous as I’d be if you were driving home in a blizzard. Jesus. Sit down. It’s okay, okay?”
He smiled a Levi smile—“Okay”—and sat down on one of the stools.
“It’s weird to see you here,” she said. “Like, worlds colliding.”
Levi ran his fingers through his hair, shaking out a bit of snow. “Your dad seems unfazed.”
“He’s used to guys being around.”
Levi cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”
“My sister…,” Cath said, feeling her cheeks warm.
She opened the refrigerator. Her grandmother had obviously been here. All her dad’s crusty condiment bottles were gone, and there were Tupperware containers labeled with grease pencil. Plus fresh milk and eggs and yogurt. She opened the freezer.… Healthy Choice meals, probably the same Healthy Choice meals as the last time Cath was home.
She looked over at Levi. “How do you feel about eggs?”
“Awesome.” He smiled. “I feel awesome about eggs.”
One of the Tupperware containers had Italian sausage with red peppers. Cath emptied it into a pan and decided to make poached eggs. Just to show off. There was bread for toast. And butter. This wouldn’t be half bad.
“Can I help you?” Levi asked.
“No. I’ve got this.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, then smiled back down at the stove. “Let me do something for you for once.”
“Okay…,” he said. “What’s your dad doing in there?”
She told him. She told him about Fucking Kelly and Gravioli—and the time they’d gone to the Grand Canyon on a family vacation, and their dad had sat in the rental car with a notebook and a Sharpie.
Her dad had worked on a lot of agricultural clients over the years, this being Nebraska, and Levi actually recognized a line he’d written for a fertilizer: Bigger yields, brighter fields—trust next year to Spurt.
“Your dad’s a Mad Man,” he said.
Cath laughed, and Levi looked sheepish. “That’s not what I meant.”
They ate at the dining room table, and by the middle of dinner, Cath felt like maybe she didn’t have to be so nervous. Levi had relaxed into a slightly more polite version of his usual everyone-must-love-me self, and her dad just seemed happy that Cath was home.
Her eggs were perfect.
The only sour note was when her dad asked about Wren. Cath shrugged and changed the subject. He didn’t seem to notice. He was a little twitchy and tappy tonight, a little distant, but Cath decided he was just lost in work. His color was good, and he told her he’d been jogging every morning. Every once in a while, he seemed to surface enough to give Levi an appraising look.
After dinner, Levi insisted on clearing the table and doing the dishes. As soon as he was in the kitchen, her dad leaned over. “Is that your boyfriend in there?” Cath rolled her eyes, but she nodded.
“For how long?”
“A month,” Cath said. “Sort of. Longer. I don’t know.”
“How old is he?”
“Twenty-one.”
“He looks older.…”