Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
I grabbed his favorite Lionshead Pilsner from the fridge, looking over to Levi as I opened it. “Levi? You drink?”
My dad gave a little cough, and his decidedly pointed look at me said he wasn’t convinced Levi was old enough to drink. Not that he’d ever been a stickler for such things, letting my brothers and I have the occasional brew with him prior to twenty-one, but he kept eying Levi skeptically.
“Nah.” Luckily, Levi seemed oblivious to the silent conversation Dad and I were having about his age. “Our coach was super strict about drinking during the season, and I was never one for partying. My mom likes a glass of wine here and there, but I never got a taste for it.”
“Coach?” Dad relaxed a little as I handed over the beer. “What’s your sport?”
“Track. Decathlon was my main event, but I filled in where the team needed me in other events.” Levi gave Dad the same winning smile that got him tips at Bold Brew despite his occasional missteps with drink-making.
“You a big fan of the Olympics?” Dad asked him as I went back to chopping.
“Watching, yeah.” Levi had such a good laugh, musical and unrestrained when he wasn’t being broody Levi. I liked this friendly Levi tremendously.
“Never did the tryouts?” I smiled at him, trying to convey how much I appreciated him making an effort with Dad.
“Competing, I wasn’t at that level. Very middle of the pack. Good enough for the scholarship and to place at meets, but not enough to go pro. Too skinny.”
“Need more upper body muscle for the throwing events?” Dad took a long sip of his beer, relaxing more into his chair.
“Oh, I can throw.”
Levi and Dad began to banter about track events and famous Olympians they admired, Levi’s side of the conversation charming and witty. Dad was a huge sports junkie, Olympics included, and he clearly enjoyed the conversation as I worked on the food. Levi kept talking even as I directed him to various small tasks to help. I loved his eagerness to please me, but I liked how at ease he seemed even more. His relaxed body language made my own tension recede.
The kitchen went back to feeling cozy, instead of claustrophobic, and by the time we transitioned to the deck, the vibe was easy and carefree. Dad had laughed more than I’d heard him in months. Inviting Levi had been a good call. After the grill was ready, Levi volunteered to go back into the house for the meat I had marinating.
“Well.” Dad leaned back in his deck chair, glancing at the closed patio door. “Your new friend sure is chatty. He’s…something.”
“Yeah, he is,” I cautiously agreed, sensing Dad had more to say.
Sure enough, he made a clucking noise. “Young.”
“He graduated from college in June.”
“You don’t have to get defensive.” After making a dismissive gesture, Dad took a swig of his beer. “But he’s younger than most of your…friends.”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t argue there. I’d never been like some of my Bold Brew contacts, craving the attention of the twink crowd. I’d always gravitated to guys around my age and experience level.
“And a different…personality than most of your crowd.”
I nodded because I couldn’t argue there either. Levi was different, the way he wore his eagerness and deference like a cape, something that followed him and made him special, but also gave him a certain kind of visibility. Made me more determined to protect him, keep his unique spirit safe.
“You like him though?” Dad pressed.
“I do.” I glanced away, like that was going to let me hide from the admission.
“Sure hope you know what you’re doing.” He saluted me with his beer.
“Me too.” I exhaled hard, but I didn’t have much time to wallow in my doubts because Levi came bustling out with the meat.
“This the right tray?” Levi asked, a faint bloom on his cheeks. I hoped he hadn’t overhead my conversation with Dad.
“Yep. Good job.” Praising Levi was almost instinctive. He needed and I gave, and the way he beamed and stood a little taller made my chest light and free.
Flopping into the chair next to Dad, Levi turned his smile on him. “Tell me funny Joe stories.”
“Hey now!” I waved the tongs at both of them.
“Oh, that I can do.” Dad’s laugh was as welcome as Levi’s, and I let him entertain Levi with stories the rest of the meal prep and while we ate at the table on the deck. Egging Dad on, Levi got several classics from the Simmons family archive including the time my older brothers dared me to eat cat food and my mom wasn’t sure whether to call the vet or the pediatrician.
Still smiling from the story, Levi helped me clear away the plates. “The food was really good, Joe.”
“I agree,” Dad added, collecting the glasses. “I brought some pastries for dessert. Went into a new place over by the park.”