Georgie, All Along (103)

“We’ll see,” I say lightly, but inside, I’m not light. Suddenly, seeing Mrs. Michaels here strikes me as the sign I’ve been waiting for—that I’ve given Levi enough time, enough time that I’ve even run into this lady who was there on the very first day he and I met. My mind races ahead to what I might do after my shift tonight. Would Ernie Nickel’s place still be open? Could I get a couple of milkshakes and go over to his house, barge in there and rescue him in the same way I was planning on rescuing Bel when I first came to town?

Though it took about two months for Bel to need any kind of rescuing, and that was something she had to do for herself, and—

I’m suddenly aware of having gone too quiet, or . . . or actually, maybe the restaurant has gotten quieter? There’s still the sound of conversation, of silverware clinking on plates, but I do think the volume’s been turned down in here.

“Ow,” I say, feeling a not-too-subtle jab at my back, and I turn to see Remy there, who clearly does not realize the strength of their own elbow. This is a pretty aggressive rescue from Mrs. Michaels, if you ask me, since I was doing fine over here—

“Oh,” I say, because Remy was not elbowing me about Mrs. Michaels.

“Holy shit,” Remy whispers. “Look who it is.”

And yeah.

Look who it is, indeed.

Levi Fanning.

No ball cap, hair and beard tidy. Gray T-shirt, but with a casual button-up over top of it, untucked and with the sleeves rolled back. No battered jeans, but jeans still: dark and newer-looking. No dirty work boots, but a freshly brushed pair. In his left hand, he’s holding a small black gift bag.

“Holy shit,” I echo.

The hostess crosses to the restaurant’s entrance to greet him, and because she’s new and also not Fanning family, she has no idea that there’s anything unusual about this man, in this restaurant, looking like this. I can see her greet him with a big smile, and I can see that he seems totally taken off guard by her presence, as if the farthest he’d gotten with thinking about this trip to The Shoreline was getting inside the door.

He looks over her head, and immediately—unerringly, perfectly—meets my eyes.

“Is that Levi Fanning?” I hear Mrs. Michaels ask from behind me, but I don’t bother answering. I weave through the tables toward Levi, my eyes on his the whole time, my heart pounding in thrilled relief.

I’m almost there when I see Cal Fanning enter the restaurant right behind him.

No, no, no, I’m thinking, my heart pounding with something different now.

Levi steps to the side, obviously sensing someone at his back, probably simply trying to clear a path, but I can tell the moment the hostess greets Cal, too, can see the way Levi stiffens when he turns. I’m almost there, and I am braced. I haven’t seen much of Cal in the time since I told Olivia I thought he was an asshole, but I swear I’ll say it to his face now if he even thinks of kicking Levi out of—

“Hello, Dad,” Levi says, and I stop moving. Two steps behind the hostess, holding my breath. Hello, he said, which means he’s nervous, and oh my God. Oh, this is about the bravest, strongest thing I’ve ever seen this man do.

Cal stares at him. Long and hard and obviously unsure. “Hello,” he finally replies.

“I won’t stay long,” Levi says to his father, an assurance. Cal’s throat bobs in a swallow, but I can’t tell if it’s relief or regret.

“I came to give something to Georgie,” Levi adds, and then he turns his eyes back to me, and the look he gives me . . . well, I can tell everything about this. It’s a mess of relief and regret and nerves and fear and pride.

And also love.

So much love I have to hold my body stiff, Levi-like, so I don’t simply fling myself into his arms.

I know that would be the wrong move. I know as well as I know myself that he’s come here to show me something specific—that he’s not trying to prove anyone right or wrong anymore, that he’s not making trouble, but that he’s also not afraid to put a foot wrong, coming somewhere where he knows he’s not been welcome in years and years.

I step past the hostess.

“Hi, Levi,” I say, making sure Cal hears it, the casual cheer in my voice. No hesitation, no concern, no heavy weight that would show the way I’ve been waiting for Levi for days. I make it sound as if Levi is the most regular, welcome customer we’ve ever had at The Shoreline.

“Georgie,” he says, warmth in his eyes, because he knows what I’m doing. “Hope I’m not troubling you too much at work, but my brother let me know you’d be here tonight.”

That, too, is calculated—I can sense Cal shifting, can sense how cut out he feels.

Good, I think, but I keep my eyes on Levi.

“Oh, it’s no trouble,” I say, trying not to moonbeam all over his face. Trying to keep it casual, the way I can tell he wants this to be.

He nods. “I wanted to stop by to ask if you were free after your shift?”

“Oh, hmm,” I pretend, as though I haven’t been developing an entire milkshakes plan to show up at Levi’s house and beg him to hurry up with his figuring. It’s all part of the act, and his mouth quirks at the corner. A small expression that strikes me as hugely courageous.

Levi, with an almost smile, when his father is standing right there.