“Do you want kids?” he asks before I can answer, upping the stakes with his question to me.
I hesitate before answering. “Not with my life the way it is now, no. Not with a threat looming over me and while I’m still building my business. But someday? Yes. I do.” I look over at him and toss the hot potato in his lap. “Do you?”
***
Jason
I know Imade a mistake the minute I ask Faith if she wants kids. I initially meant it as an innocuous question because we are surrounded by children, but as soon as it comes out of my mouth, I realize how deep the question is. Her long pause gives my stomach time to twist and turn. And though she has every right to turn the question around on me, she isn’t going to like my answer.
“I don’t… like loss.”
She narrows her gaze, confusion obvious on her face. “But kids don’t mean loss.”
“Kids mean more people to worry about in my life and that scares me.” My heart picks up a rapid beat in my chest, thoughts of Levi taking over, as they always do when I consider a serious future. Which is why I rarely let myself go there.
I glance at Faith. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“Someplace we can talk. We came, we saw, we brought gifts and favors… Izzy and Gabe will understand.” As if sensing we’re talking about him, Gabe glances over.
I gesture to the door, and Gabe nods, his expression one of understanding. Grasping Faith’s hand, I weave through the crowds of people, and we grab our coats and slip out the door. If I’m going to have this necessary conversation, I’m going to do it in a place that matters.
“Where are we going?” Faith asks, rushing to keep up with my long strides. I can’t help it. Thinking about retelling this story makes me antsy and anxious and I need to move.
“You’ll see. Just bear with me.”
With traffic, it takes me thirty minutes to cross town and head up toward the place mybrothersand I met. I pull onto the city street that houses Manhattan University, where I went to school, and park in a nearby lot.
“Is this where you, Tanner, Landon, and Levi went to college?” Faith asks after I hand the attendant my keys and we start walking up the ramp toward the street.
“What do you know about Levi?” I ask gruffly.
“The night I first met you, I Googled the nightclub and found the website. I read the dedication,” she says, her voice soft and full of understanding.
I swallow over the lump in my throat but remain silent. We walk down the sidewalk and head along the street known asFraternity Row and come to a stop at a brownstone with steps leading to the front door. The fraternity located here now is a new one, not the one my friends and I pledged, but the building is the same, just as the memories remain.
“What happened here?” Faith asks, her hand clasping mine.
The bite of the cold wind nips at my face, but I am here to feel the sensation. Levi isn’t. So I stay here, as I begin to tell Faith the story.
“I met the guys in the dorm. We lived on the same hall and we clicked immediately. The four of us hung out and did everything together. We started school in late August, and of all the guys, I was closest to Levi. We had the same major, business, were in the same classes. He switched to room with me because he wanted a break from his twin.” I chuckle at the memory. The guys started as roommates, and things quickly devolved until Levi wanted out.
“You must get close living together. I went to a local school, so I wouldn’t know. I can only guess,” she says.
I nod. “It’s intense.” I lean against the banister leading up the stairs, and Faith stands beside me. “But it was good until Levi wanted to join a fraternity.”
“You didn’t?”
I shrug. “I wasn’t much of a joiner. I liked doing my own thing. But Levi was persistent. He said the social life would be better, the girls hotter.”
“As if any of you had a hard time getting women.” Faith’s expression is priceless. Shock mixed with disbelief and a healthy dose of sarcasm in her tone.
“Hey. Freshman guys do not get the girls. Trust me.”
“If you say so.” She lifts one foot, bracing it on a higher step. But she doesn’t push me for more serious conversation.
Still, I know it’s time. “All the frats had strict rules about alcohol because the drinking age was twenty-one and hazingwas strictly forbidden both by school rules and the national fraternity. But why follow the rules, right?” I ask with disgust and obvious pain in my voice.
