Chapter 25 Deli
Deli
She’d made so many beautiful things for proposals before—bouquets and centerpieces and installations and archways—but Deli had never actually witnessed one. Blair and Andrew’s was simple and honest. They were so obviously best friends.
She kneaded the heel of her palm into her chest to ease a sudden ache.
A moment later she watched her deeply cool aunt juggle stolen goods, and then Lachlan called her name as the next act.
“No, no,” she protested, her brain still too fuzzy, “I don’t have any talents.”
Douglas tugged at her hand. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much! You’ve a lovely speaking voice, I’m sure you can sing. Andrew can accompany you.”
The last time she sang in front of a crowd with anything resembling earnestness was a misguided performance in her junior high talent show of “My Heart Will Go On,” complete with ribbon twirling.
Deli smiled and shook her head. “I’m sure I don’t know any songs you know, Andrew.”
He cocked an ear and plucked a string. “You’ll know The Proclaimers.”
She did know The Proclaimers. She said, “I don’t know The Proclaimers.”
Aunt Mo squeezed her arm. “Remember ‘500 Miles’? We sang it together last time you visited. When I took you into town, just the two of us?”
And suddenly, Deli was swept into a memory, loosed from some dusty corner of her mind.
She was a girl, stringy haired and round bellied in the front seat of her aunt’s beat-up Jeep.
The wind tugged at the window flaps, whistling through the cab while they drove home from the local shops with groceries for Grandma Rosemary’s Tuscan chicken—plus Popsicles Aunt Mo had snuck in with a wink.
It had taken a lot of convincing for her mom to let her go run an errand with Aunt Mo alone. She’s a bad influence, Delilah.
“Auntie?” Deli had asked, lime flavored Popsicle melting down her chin.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“My mom says you’re never coming home.” Aunt Mo was silent. “Is that true?”
“Delilah, if you need me, I will always be there for you.” Aunt Mo reached over and booped Deli on the nose.
Her eyes looked wet and shiny, but she was grinning, too.
She spun the volume dial on the radio, and a crackly band came through super loud.
“This song says it all. But the rule is, we’ve got to belt it! ”
“I don’t know it!” Deli protested.
“You’ll catch on quick.” Aunt Mo laughed, and the two of them sang along. Deli especially liked the Da Da Da Da part.
Now she was back in Fearnhall, the same age Aunt Mo had been then.
“I remember,” she said in a whisper.
“We’ll go slow,” Andrew said softly, “Just pull up the lyrics on your phone.”
“Right! Phone!” Deli went to the bar. “Do you have the Wi-Fi info?”
“Hmm?” Lachlan turned around like he hadn’t heard her at full volume two feet away.
“The Wi-Fi? I need to look up the lyrics for my”—she sighed, resigned—“talent.”
He gave her the info. As her phone tried to connect, she tasted lime Popsicles.
“You alright?” Lachlan’s voice was softer than she’d heard it before.
“Me?”
“You.” He put one hand on the bar top. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, of course.” Deli wasn’t sure if she was blushing or just warm. “I’m fine.”
He looked doubtful. “You’re fine?”
“Yep, I’m always fine.”
Lachlan filled a glass with water and set it in front of her. “You’re dehydrated.”
When she met his gaze this time, it was a soft, dripping thing. Hot fudge on a sundae. Bathwater with lavender. The ice clinked in the glass as she took a long sip of the cool water.
“Sorry they’re making you do something for the talent show. I tried to stop them.”
“It’s okay.” Deli smiled. “I actually love this kind of stuff—like karaoke? No one back home will do it with me.”
“You do talent shows often?” Lachlan’s mouth tugged at one corner.
“Not since I was twelve, and I’ve wiped that from my brain.”
The look he gave her made Deli feel like an ant under a magnifying glass until he spoke with great restraint. “Is there a recording?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
His grin bloomed into a smile. “So that’s a yes.”
“The only copy is in a secure location guarded by a dragon. Count yourself lucky you’ll never have to meet her.”
“I’ve slain dragons for less.”
Deli smiled, feeling a bit more relaxed than she’d been moments before.
Her phone buzzed in her hands as messages from the last week without Wi-Fi at Aunt Mo’s began to download.
Trey’s name erased all thoughts of lyrics from her head.
She pulled her phone in closer to her chest and read it, her heart in her throat.
Hey . . . listen. I think we need to talk. Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you.
She beamed at the small victory at the same time her stomach dropped with the knot of complicated that came with Trey now. He’d texted her and tried to initiate the conversation—something that had always been Deli’s job. Another delayed message came in.
Also, what was the name of that restaurant you found a while ago? With the rooftop and that one dessert with the strawberries we loved?
Her throat tightened. She’d spent days reading menus and researching restaurants for Trey’s last birthday, and he’d waxed poetic about how perfect each bite was, how exquisite the atmosphere.
The night had ended with the two of them standing outside his building, holding each other so closely an older man walking his ancient dog had mumbled something about getting a room as he passed.
“Is the Wi-Fi working?” Lachlan asked.
“Perfectly.” She struggled to speak around the frog in her throat, coughed into her scarf, and tried again. “Thanks.”
“Deli . . .”
She peeled her eyes from her screen and looked up, hastily wiping at a sudden tear.
Lachlan’s brow creased. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
Trey only reached out to her to ask for the details of their memories so he could take the girl more worthy than her and make better ones.
Now Lachlan, who was the only person in Fearnhall trying to make her feel unwelcome, was looking at her like he cared?
Her head spun with the gin and the unfairness of it all.
What right did he have? Did either of them?
“I said I’m fine.” She pushed her empty gin and tonic toward him. “But my glass has been empty for a while.”
Lachlan hesitated before turning to pour while Deli looked up the lyrics to the song. He set a drink in front of her and a second glass of water. She rolled her eyes at him.
“Deli!” Andrew tuned up a final string on his guitar. “Are you ready?”
She started to text Chloe, the safety of their friendship wrapping around her shoulders like a favorite blanket, before she remembered that Chloe wasn’t acting like Chloe and Deli had been left in the cold. There was another text from her mother, demanding a response.
Deli winced as she drank the gin and tonic down and let the alcohol stand between her and all the things slipping through her fingers. She pushed the full glass of water back at Lachlan, slid off her stool, and cracked her neck.
“Ready!”