Chapter 12 Seraphina #2
I had just wiped the counters when the doorbell rang. A quick look out the window told me it was Delphine. I opened the door to greet her. “Hey, this is a surprise. What are you doing here?”
The look on her face stopped me dead in my tracks. Her eye makeup was smeared and her hair was up in a messy pony tail as if she hadn’t washed it for a few days.
“Hey, sorry to come by unannounced,” Delphine said. “But I’m having a bad night and needed to talk.”
“Of course. Come in. Do you want wine?”
“Desperately.”
I led her over to the couch. “Sit. I’ll bring you a glass.”
I hustled into the kitchen and poured us each some wine from a bottle I’d had opened in the fridge.
“Tell me what’s going on,” I said, handing her the glass and curling up on the other end of the couch.
“My mom died.”
“Oh no. I’m sorry.”
“The last time I talked to her was at Jon’s funeral.” Delphine’s eyes filled.
I grabbed the tissue box and handed it to her. “I remember.”
“My mom’s friend called to tell me she was dead. She went to sleep and never woke up. Apparently, she’d been having health issues relating to her two pack a day cigarette habit.”
Delphine and her mother had always had a tense relationship.
Gail had been cold and hypercritical of her only daughter.
When Delphine was eighteen, she’d gone to art school and saw her mother only occasionally.
It had all come to a head at Jon’s memorial.
I’d been standing nearby, refilling the sandwich plate when I heard Delphine and her mother talking.
“If you’d been more loving, maybe he’d still be with us,” Gail had said.
“You’ve always been so hard to please. So critical.
It’s no wonder he was depressed. Living like that all those years. ”
I’d just stood there with my mouth open, horrified that someone could be so cruel.
Especially someone’s mother. Delphine hadn’t spoken to her since then.
We’d all encouraged her to keep her distance.
Protect herself. Regardless, her death was surely complicated for Delphine.
There would be regret. Maybe a little relief?
“How are you feeling about it all?” I asked.
“I didn’t think it would hit me so hard. It’s not like she was part of my life. Or Annie’s. But I keep thinking maybe I should have reached out to her. It’s been six years since we lost Jon. Maybe I should have forgiven her.”
“It was a hard thing to forgive. I heard what she said, and I don’t think you were wrong to distance yourself from her.”
“I know that intellectually, but I’m feeling guilty and sad,” Delphine said.
“And it’s brought up a lot of stuff about Jon.
I don’t know if I’m ever going to get over losing him.
I’ve tried to move on, but I don’t know how.
This last year, I’ve seen all of you falling in love, and it’s been confusing.
On one hand, I’m jealous. I don’t know how to let go of my grief and be open to someone else.
Jon was my person, you know. Yet, I couldn’t reach him.
I wasn’t enough to pull him from his depression.
All this time later, I still lay in bed at night and think of all the signs I should have seen but didn’t.
How maybe my mom was right. I’d been too hard to be with.
If I’d been like Gillian or Lila or Esme—giving and supportive, less critical—maybe he’d still be here.
What if I had just loved and supported him without being so demanding. So much myself.”
“Wait. Why am I not on that list?”
This elicited a laugh that sounded more like a sob. “Maybe that’s the worst part about me. I’m jealous of nice people.”
“Again, are you saying I’m not nice?”
She dabbed at her eyes, chuckling. “You’re a good person, but you’re made of steel. Like me. Nothing bends us. We just keep going. No matter what we have to face.”
“It’s true. But we’re also deeply sensitive. We feel a lot of things.”
“Every moment of every day,” Delphine said. “But I’ve told myself that, whatever debilitating feelings I have, I cannot let them control me. I’m all Annie has. If I break down, what would happen to her?”
“We’d wrap her up in love,” I said. “Like we’d do for any of the kids. You can fall apart every once in a while. We’re here to help you put the pieces back together.”
“I’m grateful for our friendships. I truly am.
But lately, I’ve felt very alone. Selfishly, I thought you’d be here with me forever—single, independent, jaded.
And now even you’ve succumbed.” She shook her head.
“Do you see what I mean? I’m a terrible person.
I wanted you to stay as miserable as I am. ”
“That’s not really what it is,” I said gently.
“You just feel like everyone’s abandoned you.
I can understand completely. I felt that way too a little bit.
Not so much with Esme and Grady because I knew that was inevitable.
They were practically acting like spouses long before they admitted the truth about their feelings.
But Lila and Gillian hit me hard. They were so open to love.
So willing to trust. I don’t know if I can ever get there. ”
“I know I can’t,” Delphine said.
“Is that why you shut me down when I suggested there could be something between you and Dorian if you would give it a chance?”
She shook her head, looking at me as if I’d grown horns out of my forehead. “How could you ever think I’d be willing to do that? Firstly, I don’t really know him. Secondly, he’s not my type.”
“I know, I know. You could go on all night long about all the reasons you’re not interested in him. And that’s fine. However, after the last few weeks, I’m starting to understand that the right person makes all the difference. I want this for you.”
“So it’s official? You’re in love?” She scowled, looking a little like a petulant child. “I knew it.”
“Yeah, I’m in love,” I said softly. “I have no idea how it happened but here we are.”
“He comes with all kinds of complications. You know that, right?”
“Trust me. I know. You wouldn’t believe the latest.”
“Tell me about it. Maybe it’ll be good for me to think about something else besides my pathetic self.”
I told her all the latest, including Madeleine’s advice and plan.
“I don’t know,” Delphine said. “Can we trust any of these people?”
“I trust Hunter. And he trusts them. So the answer is yes.”
Delphine let out a long sigh. “Fine. But I’m here if he hurts you. Or if it all gets to be too much and you just want a place to hide for a few days.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“You’re really going to let this Madeleine Price take photos of you two? It feels invasive.”
“Not when we’re controlling what’s put out there. The photos taken without our knowledge was invasive. This is different. This is me protecting myself and Tyler. And my career.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I probably don’t, but I’m going to do it anyway.”
“See there. That’s what I’m talking about. You’ve all been so brave. Letting love in even though the past has shown only heartbreak.”
“That’s not true. We all love one another. We love our kids. Love has been here all along. Just not the romantic kind.”
“All that’s changed. I blame the kids and their conniving plan.” Delphine sniffed, but smiled. “Poor Annie. She and I are the only ones left standing.”
If only she could forgive herself for Jon’s death, I thought.
I wasn’t sure she ever would, but I wanted it for my friend.
I wanted her to have a dance in the kitchen and be reminded she was alive and meant to love someone again.
To make a life with a man who would stay.
I feared it might never happen. In the middle of all these thoughts, another came.
I’d seen a sign on the library’s bulletin board—a grief support group for people who had lost loved ones to suicide.
“Do you think it would help if you went to a support group?” I asked carefully. “It might be nice to be with people who truly understand what you’re going through. I saw a post about a new one starting up—specifically for those grieving a suicide.”
“I don’t know. Talking about my feelings with strangers sounds awful.”
“It’s something to think about,” I said, knowing I shouldn’t push too hard.
Hunter and Tyler returned, stomping into the kitchen and talking about baseball. I closed my eyes for a split second, enjoying the sound of my son’s happy and excited voice. God, please don’t let him hurt my boy.
Or me.
Because Delphine was right. I’d let myself go there, and now there was no turning back.