Page 6 of Life After Levi

Emerie

Exhaustion hasme yawning as I pull up and park next to an unknown vehicle. Last night’s shift at work combined with meeting with my instructor beforehand, has me wanting to go home and fall into bed for a good ten to twelve-hour nap. Snickering, I step onto the walkway where I hear my girl chattering away a mile a minute. Instead of going through the front door, I walk around to the back porch where Miriam, Dale, Levinia, and a man I don’t know are sitting.

“Mama!” Levinia screeches, flying down the steps toward me. “Daddy’s friend is here!”

Daddy’s friend? I wonder if she means Damien. He had told me all about the guy who helped him survive Hell Week, but I never got to meet him. I know he came home with Levi once or twice on leave, but once was for our prom, and the other time, I was working.

Aloud, I ask, “He is? Well, let Mama meet Daddy’s friend, okay?”

She wraps her arms around my legs, and I can’t resist, I pick her up and sling her onto my hip. She’s the reason I didn’t curl up and mourn myself to death when we found out Levi had died. Because of her, I ate, exercised, and kept putting one foot in front of the other. I still desperately miss him, especially when I see an expression on my baby girl’s face that reminds me of him, but the gut-wrenching pain is more of an ache now. I can talk about him and share memories with more laughter than tears, so I consider that progress, especially since I want Levinia to know her father. Miriam has a gazillion videos and lets her watch them all the time.

“Hey,” I say once I’ve reached the top of the steps and move onto the porch.

Deep brown eyes gaze down at me from where he stood as I approached. Since I did see pictures of Levi and his buddies, I state, “You must be Damien. We never got to formally meet.”

He gulps then nods. “I am, and you’re Emerie.”

“Yeah. Please, sit down, you don’t have to stand on my account,” I tell him, setting Levinia down. Taking the lemonade that Miriam poured me, I tilt the glass to my lips and practically guzzle half of it down. “Gah, that hit the spot.”

“Girl, didn’t you have anything in that car of yours?” Dale asks.

“Finished it about five miles back,” I admit, grinning at him while I top off my glass. “I knew I’d have Memaw’s lemonade when I got here, right, baby girl?” I question, looking at my reason for living.

“Memaw’s lemonade is the best,” my daughter says, grinning at all of us.

“And just how many lemonades have you tried?” Damien asks.

“Just Memaw’s,” Levinia finally says after she thinks about his question.

Gah, she’s too smart for her own damn good sometimes, I forget she’s just now turning three.

“I see,” Damien muses, shooting a smile at me. “Well, I have to agree with you, and Ihavehad my fair share of lemonade.”

“She makes good chicken too,” my baby girl retorts. “We having chicken for dinner, Memaw?”

“We are, and mashed potatoes, and fresh green beans. Plus, some of the bread you helped me knead earlier,” Miriam replies. “Let me go get that chicken frying.” I stand to go help and she says, “No, you had to work then went to do your clinical hours. You just sit and relax, we know it was busy at work last night.”

I sometimes forget that Dale is retired from the fire department. He still has a scanner and I know when I’m working, whether in the dispatch center or on the ambulance, he listens. Told me once he was keeping an eye out for his girl. “Yeah, it was definitely busier than I was expecting,” I admit. “Vinnie, can you go help Memaw by setting the table?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“How many place settings will you need to get?” I question.

She looks at all of us on the porch and I hide my smile when I see her counting us off by name using her fingers. She finally says, “Five! We need five tonight, Memaw!”

“That’s right, pumpkin. You come on now and we’ll soon get it all together,” Miriam says, opening the back door that leads into the kitchen.

* * *

I sit back pattingmy belly, stuffed fuller than a tick. “Dinner was delicious, Miriam,” I tell her as she approaches with an apple pie and some whipped cream. None of that ‘Cool Whip’ crap as she calls it for her family. She makes it all from scratch and I wonder how she can maintain her slim figure seeing as she cooks hearty meals. Maybe it’s because nothing is processed, it’s all fresh. A slight wave of guilt courses through me as I think of all the frozen chicken nuggets and boxed macaroni and cheese I’ve fed my girl.

“It was very good,” Damien admits, causing me to catch his eye.

Throughout dinner, I’ve been sneaking peeks at the tall, handsome man. I can see some scarring on his arm and from what he’s shared, he was medically discharged from the Navy about six or so months ago but has just now returned to the States. His voice is deep, deeper than Levi’s, and I feel something foreign bubbling up inside of me.

Hope.

Levi was my first everything—love, kiss, sexual partner, best friend—and I never expected to find another man that would tick off all my boxes. Yet Damien does, so the hope I’m feeling, while unexpected, is exciting, because it lets me know that I’m not dead too.

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