CHAPTER 37 DELILAH
DELILAH
It’s a relief to focus on a problem that isn’t of my own making.
Some of my fog clears in the face of Jackson’s outright panic, and it’s an easy decision to climb into the passenger seat of his car.
To take his phone and navigate to his tracker app, clicking on the tiny picture of a blond-haired girl with her tongue sticking out.
It’s paired with another tiny circle, and I calmly direct him to the museum on the water—the place the girls were supposed to be having their brunch gala.
I break everything down into easy-to-follow steps. I call the school. I call the police nonemergency line. I call Aiden and quickly tell him to be home, in case Adeline goes to Maya. I reduce myself to efficiency, because that’s what Jackson needs. And I want so badly to be what Jackson needs.
Jackson, who is bending every speed limit between the station and the waterfront, weaving his way in and out of traffic, his hands fisted so tight on the steering wheel his knuckles are white.
Penelope is waiting at the curb with tear tracks on her cheeks, a school official at her side.
Jackson barely stops the car before he’s launching himself out of it, pulling Penelope into a hug.
He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t show any anger, and the tightness at the base of my throat pulls tighter.
He’s so good. He’s always doing the right thing, the perfect thing, and I’m—
I’m a disaster.
You made a fool of yourself and this station.
You made a fool of yourself.
The door to the back seat swings open and Penelope clambers inside. Her eyes are swollen and pink and I offer her one of the small, travel-sized tissues I found in the glove compartment. She takes it gratefully, looking up at me shyly through her lashes as she buckles her seat belt.
“Hi, Delilah.” She sniffles. “This isn’t how I wanted us to meet.”
I twist in the passenger seat. “I know, but I am happy to meet you. I’ll be happy to meet your sister too. We’ll find her, okay?”
She nods, pressing the tissue under her nose. “If Jackson doesn’t get arrested first.”
Outside the car, Jackson is tearing into the school official. A few words press through the thick glass of the car window: irresponsible, unbelievable, and my favorite, fucking idiots. He turns to climb back into the car, and the official breathes an obvious sigh of relief.
The door slams so hard the entire vehicle shakes. The three of us sit in heavy silence.
Jackson’s eyes lift to the rearview mirror. “Where would she go?”
We go to the ice-cream shop, the pagoda in Patterson Park, and the Bond Street Wharf where the geese congregate for stale crusts of bread.
I start to get recognized at our second stop, hushed whispers and not-so-hushed whispers behind my back of That’s Delilah Stewart and Did you see she quit on air?
and I wonder what happened, so I stay in the car for the rest of the stops.
I search through the window for Jackson and Penelope, hoping there’s a third blond head with them.
But there isn’t, and I watch as Jackson slowly slips further into himself. I try to tuck myself into his problem as a distraction while my own mess muddies the water around me. I’m an oil spill hemorrhaging damage, but maybe if I fix this for him, I’ll be able to fix everything else too.
“Did you see what bus she got on?” I ask Penelope, pulling up the schedules and maps on my phone. “Maybe if we check the route—”
The car comes to an abrupt stop. We’re in the Federal Hill neighborhood, cresting the park.
After we checked the girls’ favorite spots, Penelope thought Adeline might have headed for Blue Moon Too, a tiny breakfast spot on this side of the city.
The pancakes make her happy, she had said, voice thick. And I think she wanted to be happy.
The seat belt digs in across my chest. I stare at Jackson, but he’s staring through the windshield, ducking his head a little to see—
A girl. Sitting alone on one of the benches at the very top of the hill, overlooking the city. Her arms are wrapped around her knees as she shivers in the cold. She’s not wearing a coat. Just a pale blue dress, her honey blond hair in loose curls spilling down her back.
Jackson jerks the car into park, uncaring that he’s in the middle of the street. A car honks behind us, then another, and he bites out a furious curse under his breath.
“There’s no fucking parking in this neighborhood. I don’t—” His hand flexes on the wheel. His eyes are panicked, unsure. The driver behind us lays on their horn again. On the bench, Adeline turns to look. Jackson tenses. “I don’t want her to leave,” he breathes in a rush.
Penelope is already scrambling out of the back seat. Her door slams and she takes off running toward her sister. I quickly unbuckle, rushing to follow.
“I’ve got them.”
I rush across the street, resisting the urge to flick off the small backup of cars behind Jackson’s Honda. Despite Jackson’s fears, Adeline hasn’t rushed off. She’s clinging to her sister like a lifeline, both of them shivering in their pretty dresses.
I slip off my jacket and cover them both, offering a smile when Adeline’s red-rimmed eyes dart up to mine. They widen slightly in surprise.
“Am I on the news?” she asks.
My smile widens. “No. Though if your brother had it his way, he’d probably have one of the helicopters circling.”
She looks down. “Is he mad?”
Penelope pulls back, grabbing her sister’s face and squeezing her cheeks.
“He’s freaked out because you ran away from me and we couldn’t find you.
” She wiggles her head back and forth. Affection with a touch of violence, exactly right between siblings.
“Why did you do that? What were you thinking? That bus could have taken you anywhere.”
Adeline grabs her sister’s wrists and lowers her hands.
I notice she keeps their fingers knit tightly together.
“I don’t know. I panicked. The stuff with Mom—” Her chin wobbles.
“I know you’re right about her, but I don’t want you to be,” she confesses quietly.
“I wanted it to be different. Why can’t she be different? ”
Penelope scoots closer. My purple jacket slips off her shoulder and I lift it back, tucking it around them both. I bend down to one knee so I can zip the bottom, inching it up.
“Has Jackson told you anything about my mom?” I ask.
Both of the girls shake their heads in unison and I smile. Of course he hasn’t. Jackson, who holds on to my secrets and keeps them like promises.
“She’s a pretty famous violinist. She signed over custody to my grandfather when I was barely six months so she could pursue an orchestra seat. He was the one who raised me, just like Jackson is the one who is raising you.”
Adeline blinks at me, her eyes puffy but bright.
Her lashes are a sticky clump around her eyes, some light mascara smudged in circles over the tops of her cheeks.
So much about her young face is familiar.
I know what the hollow ache in her heart feels like.
I know what it’s like to chase answers that don’t exist.
“When I was thirteen,” I continue, my voice soft, the cold, muddy ground seeping through my tights, “I decided to run away from home. I was convinced I needed to know my mother to be able to—I don’t know.” I laugh. “I guess fill up the parts of me that felt empty.”
“Where did you go?” Penelope asks.
I snort. “I stole some cash out of my grandfather’s dresser and called a cab.
I went to BWI and tried to get a ticket to Amsterdam.
That’s where my mother played at the time.
Her precious orchestra seat. But I didn’t have a passport, or enough money for a transatlantic flight.
” I smile. “I really didn’t think the plan through. ”
The start, maybe, of a string of disasters that led me to exactly right here. But if this one can make these girls feel a little less alone, then maybe it was worth it. Maybe all heartache can lead somewhere better, if I’m just patient enough.
Gravel crunches behind me, but I don’t turn my head.
“I sat in baggage claim for a couple of hours, crying my eyes out. I couldn’t stop thinking about what must be wrong with me for my mom to put an entire ocean between us. I couldn’t understand why she would love music more than me.”
Adeline wipes her hand under her nose. “Did you figure it out?”
I shake my head. “No. I stopped thinking about it when my grandpa showed up.” I grin.
I can still remember how frazzled he was, wearing his safety vest from the docks.
His steel-toed boots clomping across the shiny floors of the airport.
“He yelled at me for so long, TSA agents started to wander over. But when he was done, he hugged me tight and—I don’t know.
I think I got something better than any sort of explanation or answer from my mom. ”
“What?” they breathe, shivering under my sparkly purple coat.
“I realized how special it is to be loved by someone who chose me. Over and over again.” The press of tears makes my voice turn thick. I have to take a deep breath before I say, “And it was enough to make up for all the rest.”
Adeline watches me. A tear falls down her cheek and she brushes it away with the back of her hand. Resolve settles across her young face, and her bright, blue eyes melt into something relieved.
Her gaze lifts, over my shoulder. Jackson moves closer, his hand brushing down my arm.
“Yeah,” she rasps. “That’s enough for me too.”