“No, they were mocking me for having a household staff, and I did. But I’d rather pretend I’m Ask Jeeves. Like I’m the source of all knowledge.” He makes a ridiculous pompous face.
“Yeah, right,” I tease.
“Alright, how about the source of all ‘useful’ knowledge?” he asks.
I raise my brows with humor and challenge.
His eyes laugh in return. He offers me a Tic Tac and shakes one into my hand.
“Do you ever regret your decision to come to random East Texas instead of fancy Yale and all that entails?”
“No. I miss the ocean, and The City sometimes, but the life I left wasn’t … satisfying. I couldn’t stay in Connecticut around all the same people. My family, my neighbors in Greenwich. They drop cash in frantic search of something better. Cars, parties, jet-setting, girls, whatever it is. It never works. They never feel better for long. I know my parents don’t. Only Jesus changes things, changes the heart, satisfies. Still, transitioning has been … a process. I’m not cured of my upbringing because I came here.”
You must have brought him a long way to be able to see the world he grew up in so objectively.
Be transformed by the renewal of your mind.
“Sometimes I want to just donate my share of the family fund to charity.” He motions with his hand. “Get rid of the responsibility, as you called it. But I have this feeling there’s something God has in mind for it.” He shrugs. “For now the distributions are paying my tuition. My parents certainly wouldn’t.”
So many private words he’s entrusting to me. And then it hits me. “Wait, just the income from your trust fund’s investments covers tuition here every year?”
Levi glances at me, amused. More than that? My stomach turns. My experience with Avery’s well-off family has absolutely no relation to that kind of wealth.
“Sorry I asked. And that I started on this subject. I know you don’t like talking about this kind of thing.”
He taps my arm with his Tic Tac box before depositing it in his pocket. “Don’t be. Samwise knows, but he still thinks money makes everything easier. You’re the only one who seems to understand.”
I blink at him, at a loss.
“You understand that it’s not a cure-all,” he says. “That it can be a detriment, a danger. You’re the only girl I’ve ever met who counts it all against me.”
“Hey …”
That pulls his gaze.
“You’re not your money. You’re Levi. It was a mark against dating you, not against you-you.”
“Is it still?” So quiet.
I shake my head, but I can’t afford to continue this line of thought.
“Discretion about money is still uncomfortable for me,” he says, back to normal volume. “At home, people just know how much everyone has. It’s no big secret.”
“People here would probably get weird and jealous and … conniving about that kind of thing.”
He tips his head.
I hate that he’s experienced that already. “I won’t break your confidence.”
“I know. I trust you, Kit.”
He trusts me. “I’m so impressed with you,” I blurt. “I’ve never met someone so unaffected by money. You’re swimmingin it, but you don’t even seem to think about it. It has very little to do with who you are.”
With vulnerability in his eyes, he gives a small smile. “I want to accept your compliment, but I’m afraid I can’t. I think the mentality is just different, depending on how a person grows up.” He gathers his words. “Middle-class families seem to spend a large portion of their lives preparing and maintaining the ability to make enough money. Does that seem right to you?”
School, college, jobs, promotions, saving for retirement. “That does seem like the status quo, although ‘enough’ varies a lot. Not for you?”
“No. Where I’m from, parents don’t expect their children to compete for scholarships or to ladder climb in some career. I grew up assuming money would never be an issue. My parents raised me to focus on status, connections, maintaining the family image—” His jaw clenches.
