Letting You Know (8 page)

“
Thanks.
I might do just that, Dylan.”

****

“
Deacon,”
Leah said when we broke out into the sunlight. There was a crowd out
in the parking lot, so I kept moving. “Deacon!” She said
again, her tone sharper.

Did
that really happen, was that real?

“
Deacon,
stop, talk to me,” she pleaded, hanging onto my arm. Finally, I
slumped against the side of a tree, far enough from both the car and
the church to allow myself a moment of relief.

Sliding
down onto the cold ground, I hung my head, arms propped on my knees.
“I'm so sorry you had to see that.”

“
See
what?” She asked, crouching beside me, her gloved hands
reaching for my own. “See your ex-girlfriend talking to you?
Come on,” she laughed, sounding so oddly amused I couldn't
resist looking up at her in shock.

“
Deacon,”
she went on, gesturing at the faded scar on her lip. “You met
my
ex, remember? How was what happened inside there worse than that
'meeting'? Hmn?”

Grimacing,
I reached out, pulling her closer until she was hugging me where I
sat. My face pressed into her hair; her fragrance washed over me,
clearing some of my guilt away. “You're right, that—I
just should have expected this, predicted it...”

“
Warned
me?” She asked, cutting to what was going through my mind.

I
said nothing at first, I only hugged her harder.
Yes,
warned her. That's what I'm lamenting.

Gingerly,
she untangled herself, kneeling on the hard ground in front of me.
“Deacon, don't worry about it. I'm not mad. I mean, yes, it was
a little weird, but.” Tucking her hair behind her ears, she
looked up at me through her eyelashes. “I had fun singing along
with you, that's all I care about right now. Having a good time, with
you.”

“
Yeah?”
Leaning back into the tree, I studied her expression. “You
really mean it, don't you?” Rubbing the side of my neck, I
offered a weak laugh. “I'm freaking out over Bethany, and
you're just pleased you had fun. I'm so sorry Leah, my priorities are
off, aren't they?”

“
Whatever,”
she said, standing, dusting off her knees. “It's honestly fine.
Besides, it isn't like we need to keep dealing with her, right?”

“
Right,”
I agreed, taking her hand when she offered it. Standing on stiff
legs, I stretched, spine popping. “You're completely right.
Bethany and I are in the past, and we won't see her anymore. Come on,
let's go get brunch.”

Leah
grinned, squeezing my fingers as hard as she could. It was exactly
what I needed in that moment, the sensation grounding me in the
present.

Together,
we walked to my Dad's truck.

****

Hot,
greasy warmth met us full on inside the diner. If I had a memory I
wanted to embrace or relive, it was coming to Birch's for brunch
after a Sunday service.

A
buffet style setting, the diner was often packed with the same
church-goers consistently. Today was no different.

With
'God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen' piping through the speakers, a
brightly lit tree in the corner next to a Nativity, and snowflakes
pasted on the windows, it was a divine slice of decadence.

And
that was without even looking at the food.

“What is all this?” Leah asked, appearing overwhelmed by
the busy, buzzing restaurant.

“
Southern
brunch,” I said, grinning at her tentative frown. “Come
on, follow me.” I saw my parents had grabbed a table, so I gave
them a quick nod to show them we would meet them there soon.

Walking
with Leah along the trays of steaming food, I was struck with a
slight feeling of how strange this was.
I
never really imagined I'd be reliving any of my past experiences with
this girl. Is it just because of how far away we live from my
hometown?

Everything
here feels sort of like a whole other lifetime, I guess.

“
What's
that?” She pointed at a big pan of thick, shining yellow globs.

“
Creamed
corn, don't tell me you've never seen that!”

“
Of
course I have,” she pouted, copying me and grabbing a tray from
a stack. “Your mom made some last night. I've never seen it at
a buffet before, though.”

Handing
her a plate, I scooped out a big spoonful of the sweet kernels,
plopping it onto her tray. “We like corn here, what can I say?”

Leah
pointed at a big square of something that was tan, something that
excited me by mere sight. “I'll say. Is that
more
corn?”

“
Oh,
well,” I murmured, gently serving her a pile of the soft,
decadent pudding. “Sort of. This is spoonbread, it's... it's
just delicious. It's both bread and pudding and corn and not really
any of them. I don't know how you make it, don't ask me that. I just
know it's amazing.”

Hearing
her laugh, I was encouraged, guiding her along the line further.
“Now, this is a mysterious thing, here.”

Rolling
her eyes, she reached past me with the tongs in the tray, grabbing
the brownish meat. “I know what fried chicken is.”

“
Do
you?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Leah
bumped me gently, dropping a piece of fried chicken onto my plate.
“Shh. Don't tease.”

“
I
can't help it, I like hearing you laugh.” Her cheeks went pink,
enticing me to lean closer. “I like when you blush even more.”

“
Stop,”
she gasped, looking around nervously. “Everyone can see us.”

“
So?”
Smiling, I walked around her, heading for the one container of
anything green. “Since when are you shy about that, weren't you
the one that suggested we sleep in the same—”

“
Deacon!”
She groaned, cringing so hard I felt I might have gone too far.

I
added a scoop of green beans to her pile of food, motioning towards
my parents. “Come on, let's go grab a seat before this gets
cold.”

My
parents looked up as we arrived, making room so we could settle in at
the small table. In the center was a large pitcher of iced tea,
condensation rolling lazily down the side.

Carefully,
I poured Leah a glass, then drained most of the one I made for
myself.

“
Took
your time, son,” my dad said, crinkling his forehead. With the
casual practice of years spent in the habit, he reached out, grabbing
my hand and my mother's. Following suit, I gripped Leah's, noticing
her bafflement.

She's
never prayed before a meal.

Closing
my eyes, I bent my head slowly and deliberately, hoping Leah was
copying me. “Father in heaven,” my dad began, “we
thank you for our good health, our good fortune, and for letting us
be together in this present time. Amen.”

“
Amen,”
I repeated, syncing with my mother; noticing Leah's delayed,
whispered mumble.

Peeking
at her, I sat back, releasing my dad's hand but still holding hers.
She met my gaze, her mouth an uneasy line. “Well, go on,”
I said languidly. Unclasping her hand took a great effort. “Eat
up, try a real taste of the south.”

She
started with the chicken, biting into the crispy skin; the crunch was
hard, loud. Leah smiled, clearly loving the taste. The scent of the
hot food was tantalizing, I couldn't resist anymore.

Scooping
up some of the spoonbread, I closed my lips around it eagerly. It was
velvety on my tongue, extravagant. Closing my eyes, a small noise of
pleasure escaped me. I hadn't had food like that in some time.

“
Oh
my gosh,” Leah gasped, straightening like she'd been kicked.
“This is amazing! Like—this is seriously so, so good.”
The pile of cornmeal pudding had a nice dent in it, so I knew she had
decided to emulate me and try the delicious snack. The spoon in her
hand was licked; she blushed as she noticed us all watching her.

“
Never
had spoonbread before, I take it?” My mother chuckled, looking
pleased. “Where are you from again, dear?”

“
Oh,
uh,” she struggled, put on the spot. I was reminded of how
little she had wanted to tell me about herself when we had first met.
“Just a small state in New England.”

“
Mmhmm,”
my mother nodded, sipping her tea. “Makes sense, food like this
can't be found out that way.”

“
Your
brother keeps complaining about the food on campus.” Dad
sighed, poking at his chicken. “I told him, just go here, the
state university has a great pre-med program.”

Wiping
my mouth with a napkin, I wondered how much that fact actually
bothered my dad. I knew he was proud of the state, of the college in
the area. He'd certainly impressed as much on me when I'd been
rebelling against the notion of going into a medical degree, myself.
I was eager to change the subject. “Speaking of Nicholas, Mom
said he was coming down... when, again?”

“
Tonight,”
she said, daintily stabbing a green bean. “He should be driving
down in time for dinner. Also, we'll be heading to your grandparents
tomorrow for the usual get-together.”

That
reminds me, I'll need to find time to sneak off and buy Leah's gift.
“That
should be fun,” I said, swallowing another bite of creamy food.
“Is there a chance I could borrow your car and do some shopping
before we leave tomorrow?”

“
Well,
this weather has been threatening snow all week. 'Spose if you make
it quick, that's alright.”

“
What?”
Laughing, I lifted my glass and waved it at my mother. “Are you
suggesting I'm a bad driver?”

Dad
cleared his throat, leaning back slowly. “Now, it isn't that.
Your mother just means you haven't driven in snow in some time, you
don't get none of that in sunny California.”

My
mom turned towards Leah, tilting her head enough to make her
holly-berry earrings catch the light. “Did you do much
snow-driving in New England?”

Leah
almost choked on a mouthful of green beans, looking surprised by the
question. “Uh, um, sometimes? I mean, we got a lot of snow,
so...”

“
Did
you drive out to California from there when you moved?”