Back Small Town Hearts
Chapters (26)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. one
  5. two
  6. three
  7. four
  8. five
  9. six
  10. seven
  11. eight
  12. nine
  13. ten
  14. eleven
  15. twelve
  16. thirteen
  17. fourteen
  18. fifteen
  19. sixteen
  20. seventeen
  21. eighteen
  22. nineteen
  23. twenty
  24. acknowledgments
  25. about the author
  26. Newsletter Sign-up

I wanted to ask him if he’d heard back from RISD yet, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer. I figured if there was something to tell, he would have. A queasy thought occurred to me: What if he had heard back, but just didn’t want to say anything before he absolutely had to? What if, like me, he was holding back? I hated keeping up the pretense of being okay with it, but I also didn’t want him to think I was trying to manipulate him into staying.

Still lost in thought, I ladled soup into the bowls. A layer of orange oil skimmed the surface, sloshing gently against the sides of the white ceramic. Levi accepted the steaming bowls from me while I carried the rest of the food over to my paint-splotched table.

“It’s been a good summer for falling in love,” he said.

I tensed. There it was again, that word. Love. Whether he meant with me or this town was unclear.

We sat down and as I reached for a thick hunk of bread, I said, “Yeah, Oar’s Rest tends to do that to people. The love creeps up on you.” I kept my eyes on him, waiting for a reaction.

Levi brought the spoon to his lips and blew on it. “Yes, yes, it does. It was the last thing I expected when I came here,” he said. “What about you?”

He was looking at me with expectation, but my heart was hammering wildly, echoing in my ears like a wooden spoon banging on the bottom of a steel pot.

“I definitely wasn’t expecting to break up with my friends,” I said, swishing my spoon across the surface of the soup.

“I get it,” said Levi, nodding. He ripped off a small piece of bread, then swirled the soft insides in the soup and took a bite. “Anyway, I’m jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of the fact that everyone here knows each other, is here for each other,” he said, looking a little bashful. “It’s nice. Like everyone’s family. The way everyone pitched in after the fish fry? That was kind of incredible.”

“Why?”

“Well, most people wouldn’t be so eager to help clean up a dirty street after a festival, you know? No one wants to chase after loose streamers or sweep up trash and food that’s fallen on the ground. But here everyone just rolled up their sleeves and got to work.” He shrugged. “I don’t know where else you’d find that.”

I skimmed the spoon through the half-eaten soup and licked the back. I gave him a soft smile. “Probably nowhere.”