Love Me Broken (44 page)

I see him nod out of the corner of my eye. “He watched her dog a lot. I don’t think she had many friends. Not living, anyway.”

I nod, and shift the car into a lower gear as we turn uphill. We borrowed Rachel’s car for the drive. The motorcycle Adam rebuilt wouldn’t really work for such a long trip, not with our suitcases and Pete in tow. Plus I wanted to be behind the wheel. It was really important that I could return to town this way, in control of my own life.

I pull up to my parents’ house—it’s incredibly strange to not even think of it as
my
house anymore—and park outside on the curb. The plan is to drop off Pete with my parents, change into something more formal, and then head down to the motorcycle shop for the service.

Yes, that’s right. The service is being held at Watson’s. Only it’s not Watson’s anymore—it’s Levi’s.

Eliza Burnside left everything to Levi. Everything consisted of a rickety old house, her great big dog, her antique motorcycle, and about three hundred thousand dollars in the bank. Levi used a good portion of the money already to buy Watson’s shop. He moved into the apartment upstairs, and says he plans to sell the house. That might take a while, with Astoria real estate being slow. But I don’t think he minds too much. The service today is partly in memory of Eliza, and partly a grand reopening party for the shop.

For us, it also doubles—triples?—as an Adam-is-all-better party.

Adam and I get out of the car, and he carries the crate. Pete has been a gentle, cuddly housecat for some time now, but I’m not taking any chances of riling up his Prickly side after a long car drive. We climb up the steps to my parents’ front porch, and I knock on the door.

My mom opens the door so quickly that it’s obvious she was waiting and saw the car coming.

“Erica!” she cries, and comes forward to hug and kiss me. Then she turns to Adam, and gives him a big hug too. My dad comes down the stairs as we step inside, and he gives Adam a warm handshake. Then I get a hug, and then a minute later my mom is trying to pet Pete through the door of his crate.

Pete—well, Pete gets prickly.

“It’s probably best if we just leave him in the bathroom with the door closed for a while,” I tell my mom. “Let him adjust to the place.”

She nods, holding her hand to her chest. I don’t think Pete actually scratched her, but she obviously was not expecting his wrath.

“He’ll be fine after some food and a long nap,” I tell her, and take him upstairs while Adam chats with them down below. I arrange Pete’s things in my old bathroom, and then open the crate. I know better than to force him out. Instead, I lean down and say a few soothing things to him, followed by a slow blink.

Slow blinking is feline for “I love you.” Adam taught me that too.

When Pete seems settled, I head downstairs and we pull our clothes out of our suitcases. We quickly change in my bedroom, sneaking in a few silent kisses, and then say good-bye to my parents.

“What time do you think you’ll be back for dinner?” my mom asks.

“Eight?” I guess. “I’ll text you.” We hug again, and it still feels incredible that my parents are doing so well. They’re even talking about taking a second honeymoon.

Then we’re out the door, back in the car, and driving to Watson’s.

Levi’s
, I mentally correct myself. Although it will take some getting used to.

The party is already underway when we arrive. Outside, the parking lot is full of cars and trucks and motorcycles. We end up parking one street over, where I do a spectacular parallel parking job. Who would have guessed? Then we grab our gift and head into the shop.

There’s music playing, and the garage doors are up. People of all sorts are circulating in and out with drinks and small plates of food. I scan the crowd, not really recognizing anyone. Surprisingly, a few men with long beards and black leather jackets nod to Adam, and he nods back.

“Customers,” he explains.

In the center of the space is Eliza’s old motorcycle, gleaming and polished. An old helmet rests in the driver’s seat, and there’s a black-and-white photo of Eliza propped up behind it. Surrounding the motorcycle is a moat of white lilies, blooming and fragrant. It’s surprisingly tasteful. Levi did a good job.

I still don’t see him though. We make our way to the refreshment table, and that’s where we run into Nicole.

“Erica!” she squeals, and clutches me in a tight hug. She’s wearing high heels and a black backless dress. Her blond hair is curled and blown out like a Disney princess. She looks completely and hopelessly overdressed, and still somewhat slutty. She looks like Nicole.

She hugs Adam too, and says how much better he’s looking than the last time she saw him.

“That’s the understatement of the year,” Adam says, and Nicole laughs. Then he asks, “So what have you been up to?” and I feel a little bit of pride that he is making an effort to be nice to my friends. “Still at the coffee shop?”

“Nope.”

My eyes open wide. “What? What happened?”

“I quit.” She raises her eyebrows and grins, drawing out the suspense for maximum attention.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I just didn’t have time for it anymore, with all my classes and all.”

“Classes?” I’m so happy for her, and for this unexpected news. I have to admit, there was a small part of me that really believed she’d always be working at the coffee shop.

“Yeah. Culinary school.” Then she turns to Adam. “I’m going to become a chef.”

My smile stays fixed. I search my memory for any instance when Nicole cooked more than microwave popcorn, and I come up blank. But what can I say? I put my arms around her in another hug, and say, “Oh Nicole, I’m so proud of you!”

She thanks me, and then a wicked glint enters her eyes. “And you should see the top chef. Oh my god, Erica. I spend the entire class drooling.”

Then it all makes sense.

Our conversation is interrupted by the music lowering and a general quieting of the room. We turn to see someone stand on a platform along the back wall, an attractive man with short dark hair, wearing a black button-up shirt. Then he starts talking—and I realize it’s Levi!

I look over to Adam, whose mouth is open with shock as well. “Whoa,” he says.

Levi has undergone a complete transformation. His long raggedy hair is gone; he now sports a modified crew cut. It’s shaved on the sides, but still has enough length on the top for him to style it. His angular features stand out, and even his posture seems to have changed. Maybe it’s also that this is the first time I’ve seen him in anything other than wrinkled, baggy clothes. He’s got on a black fitted suit with a gray tie. It looks neatly pressed and expensive.

Levi smiles, waiting for everyone to quiet. Then he addresses the crowd and starts a surprisingly eloquent eulogy about Eliza. I’m sure he’s had this prepared and practiced, but his delivery is natural. I notice that some of the bikers around me—big burly men—are sniffling as he talks, but I’m too distracted by the fact that Levi looks almost unrecognizable from before. Next to me, Nicole has trouble taking her eyes off of him too.

“Who is that?” she asks, nudging me.

“That’s Levi,” I say. “Adam’s friend.”

She looks at him some more. “What’s he like?”

“Actually, Nicole, this is one guy I definitely approve of.”

“He owns his own business and everything,” she says, more to herself than to me. And I wonder if Nicole will be dropping out of culinary school to become an apprentice in motorcycle repair.

Levi reaches the end of his speech, and we all clap. I find that I’m really proud of him. A line of people form to shake his hand and offer condolences, and we get in line. When it’s our turn, Adam gives him a hug.

“Congrats, man,” Adam says.

“You as well.” Then he turns to me. “But I know we have Erica to thank for that.”

I blush, and try to play it off. Then I introduce Nicole.

Levi’s eyes go wide when he sees her, and rather than shake her hand when she gives it to him, he kisses it and gives a bow. Nicole practically melts, but I have trouble not laughing. I know how she—or just about any other girl—would have reacted to this with the old Levi. Romantic gestures are only romantic if the guy looks the part; otherwise, they’re creepy.

Then Adam whispers something in Levi’s ear.

“Oh right, dude,” Levi says. “Good luck.”

“Hmm?” I ask, but Adam ignores me and instead steps up to the platform.

“If I could have everyone’s attention please.”

I turn to Levi. “What’s going on?” He shrugs and motions for me to watch.

Adam has his eyes on me. “Levi’s been a great friend to me this past year, and especially last summer, a time when I didn’t have many friends in my life at all. He gave me a place to live, a place to work, and was an all around great guy. You’re the best, Levi, and you’re going to do great here.” There’s some clapping, and Adam waits to continue. He raises his glass. “I also owe Levi a much bigger thanks for a different reason. If it weren’t for your kindness, I would have never come to Astoria. I would have never met Erica, and—realistically—I’d be dead right now.” His eyes turn to me, and he steps down off the stage, still holding the center of attention. “Erica, you are the reason I live, the reason I breathe.” He reaches me and smiles.

Then he gets down on one knee.

“You are my ideal, Erica. I want to be with you for every moment of the rest of our lives, because being with you is what makes life worth living.”

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small box. I am too overwhelmed—already my eyes are misting. He looks up at me and opens the box. Inside is an elegant ring with a gold band and a glittering stone.

“Erica, I love you. I love you more than I can ever express. You loved me broken. You loved me so much that you made me well. I never want that to end. Erica, will you marry me?”

I am too stunned to react, my hands at my mouth as tears form in my eyes. I remember holding his hand in the hospital, barely daring to hope that he’d survive, let alone one day propose. I remember having to picture my life without him. Now this feels like a fantasy, like a dream come true.

Apparently, I take too long to respond. Nicole gives me a nudge.

“Yes,” I blurt out. “Yes, Adam. Yes.”

He slips the ring onto my finger, stands up, and kisses me. The room explodes into bawdy applause, and Adam pulls me close. The music begins again. We dance, staring into each other’s eyes, and I am so grateful for every moment of it.

“So, Erica?” he asks.

“Yeah?”

“In a perfect world, what are you doing right now?” He grins, and I smile back.

“This,” I say, leaning in for a kiss. “Definitely this.”

Note to Readers
 

Hi, I'm Lily Jenkins. I live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband and our two cats, Eglantine and Benedict. (Or, as we call them, Eggs Benedict.)
Love Me Broken
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