Page 38 of Fractured Destiny

“Hi.” I flick my eyes to Levi to make sure he doesn’t wander off. “You made it.”

“Barely.” His honesty catches me off guard.

For a second, neither of us speaks. The wind lifts a strand of my hair across my face. Somewhere behind us a ferry sounds its horn.

Lake rubs both hands down the front of his jeans. Once. Twice. Halfway through the third pass, he catches himself and lets his arms fall.

I recognize this habit from therapy. Whenever the conversation drifted someplace painful, he’d smooth imaginary wrinkles from his jeans until our reunification therapist, Hannah, asked him what he was trying so hard to hold together.

I’ll give him credit. He told me everything and his history is heartbreaking, Lake’s overcome so much to be the man he is today. I guess we both have, though I haven’t had the stomach to tell him about my sexual history. My addiction journey is bad enough.

Levi turns toward us with another stone clutched in his fist. His gaze lands on Lake and he stares with the frank curiosity reserved for toddlers and old men.

I crouch beside him. “Bubba.” He presses against my shoulder without taking his eyes off Lake. “This is my friend Lake.”

Lake is careful not to reach out or make any grand gesture. Gives Levi space to decide what happens next.

One little finger points. “Wake?”

Lake drops to one knee, leaving plenty of beach between them. “Hi, Levi.”

Levi watches him for another moment, then looks up at me.

I smile. “Lake’s going to spend some time with us today.”

Levi accepts the answer the same way he accepts most things I tell him. If I say it’s part of his day, it is.

He turns back to the sand, takes a few determined steps, then points. “Wock.”

“Nice.” Lake follows his finger. “You found a pretty one.”

Levi squats, brushes the sand from it with his thumb, and studies it from every angle. Apparently satisfied, he picks it up and toddles over. “Wook.”

Lake opens his hand. Levi drops the pebble into his palm.

“Thanks, buddy.”

Levi nods once, his business concluded.

“Mama.” He points across the street. “Choc Choc?”

I laugh. “Right on schedule.”

Every trip to Alki ends the same way. Beach first. Hot chocolate after. Levi has no interest in changing the order.

“Let’s go.” I take his hand.

His fingers disappear inside mine while we wait at the crosswalk and cross when the coast is clear. Lake walks by my other side, close enough to feel included, far enough to leave Levi’s little world undisturbed, though I do catch him looking down at the hand wrapped around my finger before his eyes drift back to Levi.

The café greets us with warm air scented with espresso, cinnamon, and chocolate.

“The usual?” the barista asks with a smile.

Levi points toward the pastry case. “Coo-kie.”

“You already had breakfast.” I wag my finger.

“Coo-kie.” Levi stomps his tiny foot.