Page 15 of Tower (Post-Apocalyptic Fairy Tales #1)
“What is this place?” I ask. “It must have been so nice when the trees were alive.”
“They still got a little life in ’em,” he says, his expression completely unreadable. “They’re just hidin’ it away for now, waitin’ for the world to get better again.”
He drives another minute or two until we reach an old gazebo as untended and weed-logged as the rest of the orchard.
“Oh!” I’m smiling as I reach down for the basket. “This will be perfect for our picnic!”
“You sure?” Levi asks, his eyes searching my face. “It’s not in great shape.”
“Nothing is in great shape nowadays. Including us. Who cares about that? I love it. This is perfect.”
I’ve clearly said the right thing. Levi’s shoulders relax and his eyes warm as we get out and he takes the basket from me to carry up into the gazebo.
We take the time to clear one of the benches of debris and bugs. Then we sit and pull out our food, happily digging in.
“So how did you know about this place?” I ask after I’ve finished my sandwich and eaten as much of the tomato as I can. I’m still looking around. I’m not sure what it is, but even half dead, the orchard and gazebo still have a charm about them I can’t help but appreciate.
Levi accepts the half a tomato I hand him and takes a big bite. After he’s swallowed, he mumbles, “This is my family’s place.”
“What? The orchard and everything?”
“Yeah.” He lets out a long, slow breath. “Been in my family for five generations.”
“Oh my God, Levi.” I have no idea why, but my eyes are swelling. I reach over to put a hand on his arm. “That’s amazing.”
“You shoulda seen this place before. When all the trees were bloomin’. Or at harvest. We got apples and cherries and pears. You’d’ve loved it.”
“I love it now. You said the trees aren’t all dead?”
“Not yet. I come by now and then and check. Some of ’em are already gone but not all. I can’t help hopin’ that this goddamn climate will bounce back soon. Otherwise… I’ll lose ’em all.”
I’m rubbing his forearm, my chest aching because I feel for the trees—and for Levi—so deeply. Then I suddenly gasp. Stiffen. Stare down at the beautifully drawn trees on his arms, stylized with interconnected branches and roots. “Your arms!”
He blinks over at me.
“The tattoos. On your arms. They’re trees. Are they… are they… this orchard?”
“Yeah.” With a raspy intake of air, he slants me an almost sheepish look.
“I left home early. My folks were good, but my dad was… tough. He wanted me to be a good, hardworking, upstanding guy just like him. And I was a kid. I didn’t want that.
I left ’em. Set out on my own and got in trouble.
Spent some time in prison. I’m not a good man, sweetheart.
Don’t want you to have no delusions ’bout me. ”
“I don’t have delusions. I know you’ve lived a full life. But you were back here before Impact, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. My dad died, and my mom wasn’t doin’ well. I was all she had. So I came back here.”
“That’s when you hooked up with the biker gang?”
He chuckles at my blunt question. “Yeah. They were hangin’ out at the old motel even back then. Made sense for me to join ’em. Didn’t have anythin’ else to do.”
“When did your mom die?”
“Not long after Impact. She got sick, and the hospital had folded. Nothin’ to do for her. After that, we organized more and moved into base for good.”
“When did you get all these tattoos?”
He shrugs. “I was around thirty. Long before I came back home.”
“Why did you get them?”
He doesn’t answer for so long that I don’t think he will. But then he mutters, “I’d just got out of prison. I was missin’ home but too ashamed to come back.”
“Oh, Levi.” I scoot closer, nestling against his side as he wraps an arm around me.
“I was stupid. Mosta my life I been stupid.”
“Nothing that happened before can be changed. But you’re not stupid now.”
He nuzzles my hair. “I hope not.”
We sit in silence for several minutes. Then I finally ask, “So you really think some of the trees might make it?”
“I don’t know. It’s a long shot. But I’m still hopin’.” He sighs. “Gotta hope for somethin’. Although I guess trees aren’t all that important in the long run.”
“They are important.” I straighten up so I can glare at him.
“They are. They’ve given fruit to your family for five generations.
Their leaves make the oxygen we need to survive.
They’ve given shade to life of every variety.
They’ve kept all kinds of wildlife alive.
They’re important. They’re part of your family. ”
He’s shaking just slightly, his jaw and shoulders tense. Then he relaxes with a gust of a sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, they are. Thirty-four weddings in my family happened in this gazebo. Now I’m the only one left. Me and what’s left of the trees.”
A tear slips down my cheek. Then another.
He reaches over and swipes them away with his fingertips. “You shouldn’t cry for me, sweetheart.”
“I can cry for anyone I want.” Before I second-guess myself, I lean over and press a kiss on his mouth.
He’s surprised. He stiffens. Freezes.
Since there’s no turning back now, I move my lips against his until they soften. He lifts a hand to wrap around the side of my neck, holding my head steady so he can deepen the kiss.
Pleasure and excitement spirals out from my chest. My head buzzes. I wrap an arm around him and kiss him eagerly.
After a minute, he pulls back.
Frustrated, I try to chase the kiss, but he holds me back.
“You didn’t like it?” I ask, confused and disappointed.
“Course I liked it! Best thing to ever happen in my life. But I can’t kiss you out here, girl. I’ll get too distracted, and then I can’t watch for trouble.”
“Oh.” I’m smiling as I lean back to my place on the bench. “I guess that makes sense. Maybe we can kiss more later?”
“Goddamn right, we will.”
The next morning Levi starts to get out of bed when it’s still dark.
I usually wake up briefly when he does and then doze for a while before I get up too. So I smile at him sleepily as he gazes down at me.
“Mornin’. You wanna come to the river with me today? We can get back in time for you to still do your yoga thing.”
I pop up from the bed like a jack-in-the-box. “Yes! I would love that.”
A little smile twitches on his mouth as he pulls up his jeans. “Good.”