7. Delia
Seven
Delia
“ M om, that place is the cutest. Can we?” I lick the dripping ice cream from my cone, as we walk down the sidewalk.
The sign reads RootBound. Mom looks up, reading the sign, and laughs.
“Well that’s new.”
“You really expected all the shops to be the same seventeen years later?” She shrugs and leans over to bite the top of my ice cream off “Hey! That’s mine,” I squeal.
“Let’s go in. Gotta love a good pun.”
When we enter, a tiny bell chimes overhead. The shop is comfortable. Not frigid with air conditioning but not sweltering like outside. Books and tender plants hang throughout and thoughtfully chosen textiles are everywhere. It feels homey and warm. I love it instantly .
“How can I help you?” From the corner of my eye, I see a mass of flowing silver hair.
“Just poking around,” Mom answers.
“Happy to have you. Just be sure to read the information tags before you go touching, some of the plants are poisonous.”
This catches my attention and I walk over to where mom is chatting. “Poisonous?” I ask.
The woman nods her head. “Yes, all the plants here are rare, exotic, or toxic in some way.”
“Woah, cool,” I breathe.
“They’re all labeled. If it says do not touch, heed it.”
“Nice to meet you. Delia,” I say.
Mom holds out her hand. “Clover.”
The woman’s face lights up. “What an exceptional name. You girls on a vacation before school starts?”
“No,” Mom says, “We’ve just moved here. Delia will be starting at the high school next week.”
“Well, in that case, Delia, if you’re looking for an after-school job, let me know. I’ve been looking for someone to pick up some afternoon hours so I can pop out and run errands.”
“Really?” I ask. The woman nods. “That would be amazing,”
She claps her hands together. “Then it’s settled. When can you start?
“Anytime,” I say.
“Does Thursday work for you?” she asks.
I glance at Mom. “Sound good to you?” I ask her.
Mom smiles warmly. “Of course. What trouble could you possibly get into at a plant shop? ”
The woman cackles, causing Mom and I to both startle. “If she reads the signs, I can assure you she won’t die.”
“Hey!” A deep voice booms from the back. “Where do I put this?”
“Sorry ladies, I’m being summoned. Delia, I will see you in a couple days. Happy shopping!” The woman sort of toddles, wild hair and all, through the back of the shop and out of sight, and when we’re sure she’s out of earshot, Mom snickers, quickly covering her giggle with the back of her hand.
“Sorry,” she murmurs, pressing her smiling lips together in a poor attempt to smother her laugh. “This will be an entertaining job for sure,” she says.
***
I have the posture of an old couch as I watch Mom get ready for dinner. “Why are we dressing up again?”
“Heath said dinner tonight at six and to look presentable. That’s all I know.”
“Well, I think you look fine. Stop caking on the mascara, it’s not a date. It’s dinner with your dad.”
“Ugh, you’re right,” she moans. I hand her a makeup-removing wipe, which she snatches from my fingertips and furiously begins to scrub her face.
“You know, you could wear some mascara. Your lashes are so long, it’d look beautiful on you,” she says, hopeful.
I flop back onto the bed with a grunt. “I’m fine.”
She raises a brow at me. “How I raised a kid who doesn’t love makeup like I do is beyond me. Just let me put a little on.” She approaches me as if I’m some skittish animal.
“Mom!” I squeak as I back up on the bed until my back is pressed against the wall. “Stop.”
“Nope. Tonight you’re letting me put mascara on you.”
I swat at her hand laughing. “No. Thank. You!”
“Give it up Delia, your eyelashes are mine now,” she says and swoops in toward my eye. I groan but let her coat my lashes in black. When she’s finished she sits back and admires me. “Look at that. Stunning.”
“Way to pat yourself on the back,” I say, scooting off the bed and straightening my skirt. It’s my favorite hot weather piece. Ankle length, elephant print in emerald green and white, with an elastic waist and a slit up one thigh. It lets a breeze in without being slutty looking and it is super comfortable and lightweight. Paired with a plain white tank and my flip-flops, I feel most like myself.
Mom tucks a rogue wildflower behind my ear as we walk to the house. “I hope there’s dessert again.”
“You already had ice cream today!” Mom laughs.
I wrinkle my nose and stick out my tongue at her. “There’s never enough dessert in my book.” As we round the house I notice two cars in the driveway instead of one.
“Is someone else coming for dinner?” I ask Mom. She stares at the car and shivers despite the evening heat. “Mom? You okay?”
Shaking her head she snaps out of it and looks at me. “I’m fine. I don’t know. Let’s go see.”
Heath cut off whole apple blossom branches and brought them inside the house. A floating fragrance now decorates the dining room table. There’s a lot of noise coming from the kitchen as we pass through the dining room.
It sounds like a true family. Laughter and joking and dishes clanging .
“Dad?” Mom calls out.
“In here, Jennifer.”
I still can’t get over her name. And it reminds me that I still have a thousand more questions for her that I haven’t asked yet. The kitchen goes quiet suddenly as we enter. Is this more family? There are two adults and a kid—the kid getting yelled at when we drove through town—in the kitchen with Heath.
“Oh my goodness,” the woman breathes out in shock. “Jennifer?”
“You have a sister too?” I screech, breaking the moment.
Everyone in the kitchen laughs. Mom rushes to the woman who envelopes her in a hug as I stand there. “Delia, come here, this is Anna. She graduated a couple years ahead of me in high school. Anna, this is my daughter Delia.”
Anna releases her hold on my mother and cups my cheeks. “You are so beautiful.” Tears pool in her eyes and I feel suddenly very out of place and uncomfortable. She releases me and I push myself into my mom’s side. “This is my husband James and my sons, Anderson and…”
“Heath! I think I found it!” The voice sounds familiar but I can’t think of where I’ve heard it before. He steps into the room, tall and muscular, and seemingly sucking up all the oxygen, holding a large knife. Hazel eyes bore into mine as he enters the kitchen. The guy who waved.
The guy who waved at me.
I want to shrivel up and die.
“This is Langdon, my other son.” Anna chuckles.
“Oh, hi,” Langdon says, staring at me.
“Hi,” I whisper back. His bicep brushes against my arm sending an earthquake of shivers jolting down my spine as he passes by.
“You’ve been busy,” Mom says with a wink. Anna swats at her.
James reaches out to shake our hands in greeting. And the kitchen devolves into a cacophony of chatter. Langdon says something to Heath when he hands him the knife and the playful laugh that booms out of him makes it seem like an inside joke between them. The thought sends a howl clawing up my spine. That’s my grandfather. I ignore the burning jealousy gnawing in the pit of my belly and bite my bottom lip.
Langdon glances at me over Heath’s shoulder and my jealous frown slips into a shy smile. His hazel eyes knock the wind right out of my lungs. I retreat to the dining room immediately.
Mom and Anna are already lost in conversation, apparently catching up on the years missed while James entertains Anderson with a puzzle in the living room. Heath and Langdon chat in the kitchen, hips pressed against the counter near the stove, and I… I try to sink so far into the couch that I might as well be a cushion.
Mom pokes her head into the living room. “Delia, will you grab plates?”
“Langdon, help Delia set the table,” Anna commands.
“That’s ok. I can do it,” I say.
Langdon doesn’t hesitate with his response. “See, Mom, she said she’s got it.”
“Langdon!” his father booms.
In the kitchen, Heath points to the cabinet with the plates and I grab seven and carry them into the dining room silently. I’m the only one here who doesn’t know anyone besides my mother and it’s weird.
Weird as fuck.
Langdon leans against the door frame. “So, you’re Delilah right?”
Of course he can’t even be bothered to retain my name. I set a plate down and move to the next spot. “Delia,” I correct.
He moves and braces his hands on the back of one of the chairs. “I think I saw you a couple days ago.”
“Oh?” Yes, literally the best response I could muster was oh.
“Yeah, on Main Street. Your mom waved,” he says, a hint of mischief in his tone.
I suck in a breath and blow it out. “Weird. Why were you waving at my mom?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. His laugh makes my stomach flip. “I was waving at you.”
Stop. Stop, stop, stop. I will turn eight shades of red and explode. This dining room will become a crime scene of Delia’s insides. “Sorry. I must have missed it. There was a lot going on that day.”
“I’m pretty certain you saw me,” he says and cocks an eyebrow at me.
Dude. Oh my god, why are you doing this to me? “Pretty sure I didn’t.” I set a plate and move to the next spot. My flip-flop catches on the leg of one of the chairs and I surge forward.
Langdon reaches out, his hands planted firmly on my shoulders keeping me upright. “Woah. You okay? ”
I clear my throat and shoot him a dagger-filled look, tilting my chin higher. My bare shoulders burn from his palms holding them.
“Fine. Thanks.”
He lifts his hands in defeat. “Sorry. Was only trying to help.” I set another plate down. He grabs two off the pile in my arms and puts them in their places leaving one left in my arms. The fine hair on my knuckles stands up with static electricity where his fingers grazed mine.
“What grade are you in?” he asks.
“I’ll be a senior this year.” I put the last plate in its spot and rub my hands on my skirt.
“Me too.”
I nod.
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Langdon why don’t you get her number so you can show her around,” Anna says. She and my mother are standing side by side in the dining room entrance.
I shake my head a little too hard. “That’s okay. He doesn’t have to do that. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
Mom grins at me in a knowing way that makes my insides curl and twist and I feel the bloom of a blush on my nose and cheeks coming. I pivot quickly to go back to the living room and face plant in a wall of firm muscle instead.
He smells like a mixture of chlorine and pine.
Langdon’s chest.
His palms are on my shoulders again, steadying me, setting my skin on fire.
He drops his head slightly and whispers, “Did you just sniff me?”
Having a body is bizarre. My body instantaneously wants to melt into his torso while my brain is screaming at me to say anything other than, yes to his question . But what comes out of my mouth is even more heinous than admitting I smelled him. “You smell different awake,” I whisper back.
It’s a terrible joke. I overheard it last year at school. Granted I had cackled with laughter when Tommy Sterling had purposely leaned over his girlfriend Tamara Herder’s hair and inhaled, while then reciting the line.
Hell, the entire classroom had burst out laughing, even Tamara. It was so ridiculous and creepy and funny that you couldn’t help but laugh.
But I was no jokester and Langston and I were not a couple, we’d just barely met.
Langdon takes a step back, wide-eyed and stunned. He laughs. Loud and from the gut. I glare at him. I steal the moment to run outside to the porch.
Alone.