Not Perfect(90)

Fern couldn’t stop looking at him. He looked the same, well, almost the same, but she felt uncomfortable, like he might not reach out and accept her into his arms the way he always did, or the way he used to. But she wanted to show him her leg was better! She couldn’t wait to show him! And then something gloomy came into her mind. He never even knew her leg was bad, so he wouldn’t care that it was better. How could she have lived through something so important, something so hard, completely without him?

Levi stumbled over his Hebrew words. He cleared his throat and started again. Fern turned her attention back to her brother.



Tabitha waited. It was ruined for her, but she did not want to ruin it for Levi. She sat, feeling like something was sticking through her middle, like she had been pierced, and she waited. She smiled when she joined the procession walking the Torah around the sanctuary, something they had practiced, and Stuart had enough sense to not join in. They all had enough sense to avoid his row. He just stood and watched. It was like she knew him and she didn’t know him. When it was finally over and everyone crowded around Levi, Tabitha walked toward Stuart. She pointed toward the closest exit, and he followed her into a stairwell. She didn’t plan to stay long—she didn’t want Levi to notice she was gone—but she saw no other choice. To let him come and to not call him on any of it would be like letting him get away with something, and she couldn’t do that.

She turned to Stuart, who was now sitting at the bottom of the stairs, his face in his hands. She hated him. There was just no other way to describe what she was feeling. She took a chance on him, and now she knew she had wasted her life. He never deserved her trust, and her love, and her hope.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she said, keeping her voice down and pacing. A few weeks ago, before the accident, this would have gone a different way, but now, now that Levi was okay, all of this mattered so much less. But still . . .

“Are you going to make me ask the questions?” Tabitha said. “Really?”

He didn’t say anything. She felt that she could hear the seconds tick away; she wanted to be with Levi. She heard Levi laugh, and she relaxed slightly—he wasn’t looking for her yet.

“Why are you here? Why did you come?”

“I was always going to come,” Stuart said, more to his hands than to her. “What I wasn’t going to do was stay away so long. When I left, I knew it would be some time, but I didn’t know how long.”

Ten questions were trying to get out of her mouth at the same time, and all she wanted to do was go back to Levi. She heard him laugh again.

“You know what? I don’t want to do this now,” she said. “I don’t want to miss any of this.”

“I have questions, too,” he said dumbly.

“I want you to leave, but I can’t do that to Levi. We will go back in, you will tell him he did a great job and that you’re proud of him. You are not welcome at our celebration today. I want to meet you tomorrow at noon at Starbucks to talk this through. You can tell Levi you will celebrate in your own way if you want to, or not. That is up to you.”

Stuart nodded, and she expected him to dispute something or fight for something she hadn’t given him. Instead, he stood and reached for the door, pulling it open, and Levi’s voice spilled toward them. Stuart stepped back and let Tabitha go first, then they both walked toward their son.



Tabitha entered Starbucks half expecting that Stuart wouldn’t come. She never specified which Starbucks, though she hoped he would know she meant the one a block away from their apartment, that was always their Starbucks. She had no idea what he did after the ceremony yesterday or where he slept. She didn’t try to call him or email him, not that she would have gotten through, but she was aware of how done she was with him. She did hope to get some answers, though, and would be disappointed if she didn’t get the chance. Mostly, she wanted to have a chance to tell him how horrible what he did was, not just to her, that was bad enough, but to the kids. She hoped she’d be able to keep it together. She knew how hard it was to get through to him sometimes. Well, most of the time. Somewhere, deep down, she also knew she was not entirely innocent in everything that transpired between them. She walked in and ordered a latte, paid, stuffed a big tip into the jar, and sat at the long table toward the back. She faced south, so she couldn’t see her building, but she knew it was there. The kids were happy and safe inside.

“Hello,” he said, startling her. She didn’t see him walk in.

“Hi,” she said, standing, but immediately regretted it, because it seemed like the normal thing to do, and this was anything but normal. She sat back down. He looked around and chose the seat across from her. She was glad. She didn’t want him to sit next to her. He looked pasty and he had circles under his eyes.

“So after all that, you went to Abigail?” she asked first, because even if that wasn’t where he had been recently, it seemed that was where he had set out to go.

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“Why the threat?” she spit out—she just couldn’t wait, couldn’t take the time to build up to it. He looked at her, surprised, that wasn’t what he thought the next question would be. “The threat! At the bottom of the note!”

“Yes,” he said slowly, sitting up a little straighter. “I know. I wrote that at the last minute. I was terrified. I was also surprised you had been so forceful that night. I don’t know what I expected. I think I always thought if I was ever completely honest, if I ever laid it all on the line, you would understand, or, at least I would have a clear way out. But that didn’t happen, and I was scared, and mad. I just wrote it. It was the last thing I did before leaving the house. I guess, if I really had to say, I wanted you to remember that you had done some bad things, too, Tabitha, that you weren’t perfect either.”