28. Delia
Twenty Eight
Delia
I require sunshine to start my day. Why should I start my day when the day has not started its own? I’m usually angry when I wake. I have this burning notion that I should have slept longer. If feels cruel to rise before the sun. I don’t like leaving the dream world for reality. Reality is full of things I must do, but don’t want to be doing. Sleep doesn’t require anything of me. But there’s school. And I can’t skip.
We’re huddled around yearbooks looking at High School Athlete team photos. My potential dad played soccer. I’d never met or seen my dad but wondered if I happened on a picture of him if I would instinctively recognize him. If that was a thing. If I’d see myself in him.
My missing mom hits in frequent little pangs of despair these days. Sometimes it scares me that I’m learning to live without her. If she comes home I don’t know if I’ll be relieved or angry or delirious with happiness. I don’t know anything lately except that I often feel like a tied-up helium balloon longing to be untethered. To float up and away. To join the clouds in the perfect clear blue sky and not think about real-life things.
“Anyone look…familiar?” Lyra asks.
I scour the team photos. “Nope,” I sigh and lean back in my chair to stretch.
Miles squeezes my arm. “Let’s keep looking.”
“These photos are tiny and blurry and black and white,” I mumble.
“Ok,” Miles says. “Read some names out and I’ll flip to their school picture.”
We spend an hour in the library looking at old photos before I give up.
I blow out a breath. “Guys. I’m done. Maybe I should read the rest of Mom’s journal and see if she happens to drop a name?”
Lyra looks deflated. “You need a phone. This whole not being kept in the loop in real-time is killing me. What if you find a name tonight and can’t even tell us until tomorrow morning?”
I snort out a laugh. “I mean, you’ll still find out.”
“I’ll buy you a cheap phone,” Miles says.
I hold up my hands. “Guys, stop. A phone isn’t going to magically solve this mystery. It’s fine. If I find something really big I can call you on the house phone.”
They both lean back, wide-eyed, looking horrified. “What?” I ask.
“Call us?” Lyra scrunches up her nose at me .
I can’t help but laugh.
I’m cutting across the front lawn when I hear my name being called. If I stop I’ll miss the late bus and then I’m screwed.
“Delia!”
I swivel my head in the direction of the shout. Danny.
“Wait up a sec,” he calls while jogging.
“What’s up?” I ask when he approaches. He shuffles his feet and stares at his sneakers. “I’m going to miss the late bus, did you need something?”
He glances up. A small smile on his face. “I can give you a ride home.”
I cock my head left. “Is that what you wanted to say?”
He laughs. “Naw, I was just saying hi. I thought maybe you’d want to…I don’t know, hang out sometime? But um, I can totally give you a ride, now I mean.” He points to the late bus pulling away and I mutter a curse.
“That’d be nice. Thanks.”
He points toward the parking lot and we start walking. “Did you join a club or something?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. Had to go to the library. How bout you?”
“Oh, auditions were today.”
I smile. He’s cute, and shy, and sweet and I am absolutely comparing him to Langdon as we walk which is completely unfair.
“For what?”
“The Fall play. There’s a Spring Musical every year too.”
“I didn’t know you act,” I say .
He shrugs and pulls out a key fob, unlocking the car doors as we approach.
“Yeah. I mean. It’s fun. I never get a lead but it’s still fun. This is me.” He nods to the car.
“Cool.” I let myself in the passenger side and buckle up.
Danny backs out of the space. As we pull out of the student lot, Langdon and some friends are walking. I watch him from the window. When he sees me his eyes crinkle for a second until he notices the car and Danny and then I swear I can see his brain working overtime.
I look away and keep my eyes on the road in front of us as Danny pulls out of the lot. I wonder what he thinks. Danny was sweet today and sat with me at lunch, which he does probably twice a week. We barely talk unless I keep the conversation going. And honestly, it prevents me from playing the staring game with Langdon which, weirdly, I like.
“So you’re at the Orchard right?”
I swing my head to Danny. “I find it slightly concerning that everyone knows where I live.”
He laughs. “Yeah. I can start over. Hey Delia, where’s your house?”
I grin at him and chuckle. “You’re going to want to bang a left about three miles down the road on Lands End.”
“Better?” He asks.
I nod. “Much.”
“So would you want to hang out sometime? My schedule is a little crazy with rehearsals but Sundays are usually free.”
He stares straight out the windshield as he turns onto Gramp’s road. It’s not lost on me that he sits with me when he doesn’t have to and actually speaks to me in school and doesn’t seem to have friends who find me annoying. Danny, at any other school, would have already won my heart. So why am I not interested?
“You know what?” I say as he pulls up to the house, “I’d love to. Sundays I have a standing family dinner but otherwise, I’m free before that.”
He throws the car in park and turns to me. His smile infectious. “Awesome. Um, lemme think of something fun to do and I’ll let you know.”
“Perfect,” I say.
I walk into the house and drop my bag at the door. Gramps is sitting on the couch. He acts as though it’s no big deal being an adult who is eating a slice of cake with his fingers in the middle of the afternoon like a kid at a birthday party. In his house, it is cake Monday in your sixties and there is nothing to even say about that but “of course”. A laugh escapes me as he tries to catch a glob of frosting that’s perilously dripping from his lip. I bet he’s the kinda guy who takes his shoes off on a full airplane.
“Want a plate?” I ask.
His face reddens at my voice. “Caught red-handed.”
I plop down on the couch next to him. “What would Meave say?” I ask.
Gramps wipes his mouth with his fingers and chuckles. “She’d be sitting where you are doing the same damn thing.”
I smile at him. I like the thought of her indulging her sweet tooth. “What was she like?”
“Meave? Well, she was…” he adjusts himself and mutes th e TV. “She was wild and stubborn and had the worst sweet tooth of anyone I’ve known. She was the best cook and she was kind. The kindest. Heart of pure gold. And beautiful. I didn’t think she’d even give me the time of day when I first met her. It took me, well,” he chuckles, “according to her she said it took me a week and a day too long to ask her out.”
A laugh slips out of me.
“She was a lot like your mother. They butted heads a lot you know. I could never keep up with them. One minute they’d be fighting something fierce and the next breath they were giggling together.” His eyes crinkle at the edges as he looks at me.
“How long were you married?”
“Your Gran and I were together for five decades. But it only felt like a blip because that’s what love feels like. We watched the sunrise and sipped our coffee together every morning and we slept together every night but one. We were each other’s only loves until the day she left.”
My eyes well with tears. I blink them back so I don’t ruin the moment. I didn’t expect Gramps to be so…talkative.
He slaps a palm on my knee. “Don’t give me that look. We had a long, good life together.”
“I wish I’d met her. She sounds fun. I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Don’t do that,” he says while standing. “It wasn’t so devastating when she died because it death was so small compared to how she lived. She filled up everyone and every space with love. This whole damn town felt it.”
I bite my lip and nod, trying to hold back my tears .
He holds my gaze and then, “She would have loved you.”
“Thanks,” I say and stifle a sob.
We spend the evening together instead of apart.
He teaches me to play Gin Rummy, we walk through the gardens, and he tells me all about the plants Maeve (Gran) tended to, I smell flowers and desperately wish I’d gotten the chance to know her.