Not Perfect(37)

They were quiet while they each filled their bags. When they were finished, there were still some pastries left over, but she didn’t want to appear too greedy. She wondered if they’d have a picnic in the Square, or if they’d just say good-bye, and each take their loot back to their own homes.

“Now what?” she asked, tucking the stuffed bag under her arm.

“Now we find some homeless people.”



Levi couldn’t believe his eyes. Was that his mother? And who was that man?

He had been sitting at La Colombe for over an hour, trying to pull himself together, still carrying that stupid cup of coffee he had bought that morning. Really, thank goodness he did, because having that in front of him made him feel like he had a right to be there, like he could sit as long as he wanted to. But the place was closing and he had to leave and go somewhere else, probably home, but that was the last place he wanted to go.

Someone had just announced the free food, apparently they actually let people take the things that were left over. And he was going to get up to take some. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but he knew they were eating very strangely lately, and there was never really quite enough. Some extra bread sounded really good.

So he was about to get up and take some stuff, when he saw his mother come in. He turned so fast back to his table that he knocked down the cup, which was still almost full, and he hunched over, trying to look as invisible as possible. She was never going to not see him; he knew that. She had eagle eyes. But she barely glanced around, and she and the man stuffed those bags so full and walked out.

The day had been a disaster. He never made it to The Family Meal. It was so hard to find it, and the buses, they were so complicated! He spent all his money trying to get there, and between buses, cabs, and one burger along the way—all fifty of the dollars were gone. He felt so stupid. And dirty. And where the hell was his father? He checked his email one more time, seeing if by chance his father might have written, maybe, finally, today. When there was nothing, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He started a new email to his father, using the only email address he had for him. He hadn’t wanted to do this, he didn’t want to reach out to him and have him not reach back. That was his worst fear. At least now he could tell himself his father didn’t know how much he missed him, he didn’t know that he was desperate for some word from him. But maybe that’s what his father needed to know to get in touch. Maybe his father was so busy that he just didn’t realize how important this was.

Dear Dad,

Where exactly are you and when are you coming back? I wanted you to know that I am working with The Family Meal for my BM project and they seem great. But I do have some questions. Can you call or write back? Soon? And one more thing, I spent your money so can you send more? I didn’t spend it on stupid stuff like video games, I spent it trying to get to The Family Meal. I know how much you care about that so please help. Okay? This is hard without you.

Love,

Levi

He didn’t even read through it, like his mother always told him to do. He just pressed “send.” When there was no bounce-back notification, nothing saying he was out of the office, or out of the country, or out of his normal life, Levi felt vaguely satisfied. He grabbed the last challah roll and headed home to an empty apartment.





CHAPTER TEN

Tabitha didn’t remember ever being wooed by Stuart when they were dating. He was kind and dependable, two qualities her previous boyfriends had not had, qualities that seemed most important in choosing a husband. Also, they were so compatible. They liked to go to bed at the same time, they both wanted to have two children, they agreed to have fish for dinner at least two nights a week. Who cared if he was a little distant, if there were times he seemed to be thinking about things other than what was right in front of him? She was done with the craziness of being so in love with someone that it hurt. That was young love, not married love. She wasn’t looking for that anymore. She didn’t remember ever thinking about Stuart—Huh, he’s funny, or Huh, he’s clever, or I wonder when I’ll see him again, all thoughts she was surprised to have in relation to Toby. With Stuart, there hadn’t been any real surprises, not until recently anyway.

Well, there was that one surprise. The one that now basically informed everything, she guessed. They had already been dating for eight months, they had just gotten engaged two days before, when Stuart said there was something weighing on him, something he had to tell her. She was so trusting. Now that she looked back on it, she couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t the least bit worried about what he was going to tell her. She imagined it would be something about the wedding—his mother insisting on a certain type of flower or a certain type of cake. Or maybe about where he wanted to live. Anywhere but the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, she remembered thinking.

Even though they were engaged, they weren’t living together yet. It was late at night, but he said he would be right over. They spent the occasional night together, though that was more and more rare as they got deeper into planning the wedding; they were always so tired, they just wanted to go home and sleep in their own beds. When she opened the door that night he looked pale, she remembered thinking, and she wondered if he wasn’t feeling well.

“Sit down,” he said.

She did.

“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you this before. I was going to. And then, well, so much time went by, it seemed hard to find the right way to bring it up. It’s like when you recognize someone at say, school or something from last year, but you don’t say anything, and eventually more time goes by, and it gets harder and harder to say something. Or if someone has a loss, say a beloved dog dies, and you don’t . . .”