My Heart for Yours (27 page)

“
You were happy here. With Tobin I mean.” She sighs. “Before we moved to D.C.”

I’m shaky again at the mention of his name. Tobin was always a subject we avoided in our house.

“
Yes. I mean, it was rough for us knowing we had the big decision to make about the baby.” I can’t believe I just said that out loud. “And then even harder when Dad was over-stressed and then Tobin and I didn’t know what to say to each other anymore.” What else am I supposed to say?

“
I should have stood up for you more.” She repeats. “I’m sorry, Delia.” She reaches over and pats my hand. Something she’d do to appease my father or anyone else. I think it’s all so automatic for her now that she doesn’t give it a second thought.

“
I just…” I still don’t know how to explain. “I just want to feel like I own my decisions.”

Her bright blue eyes find mine. There is a spark behind them. Something real.

“
That, Delia, is an excellent place to start.”

This is more attention than I’ve gotten from my mom in a long time. It makes me sad, but also make me realize that I don’t need her. I can do things on my own. Have been doing things on my own without fully realizing it. “I love you, Mom.”

She relaxes back into her chair and takes another sip of her drink. Her email pings. She pats my hand. “Love you, too, sweetie.” But she’s half into email already.

Wow.

Okay.

The sad thing is that probably nothing much will change between us. I guess that’s okay. It is what it is.

Dad’s heavy footsteps come down the stairs, so I stand and move into the kitchen, knowing he’ll have something to say to me about how I wasn’t home all night. Again.

Though, I get the impression he got in with Weston early this morning.

He glances up when I come into sight. “You had a late night last night. I’m not going to be cleaning up any more of your messes, am I?” There’s an edge of anger to his voice, but it’s quiet, controlled. Maybe he’s just tired.

And is that how he sees my abortion? A mess? I mean, it was a mess, but it was so much more than that. It’s something I’ll always carry with me.

His large hand reaches toward the closet door and he stand there for a moment, maybe trying to remember what he brought that still needs to be packed.

“
Celebration for Eamon,” I say. “That’s where I was.”

“
And Weston?” His face is harder, and so is his voice.

This is the point where I always back down. Walk away. Especially after the bathroom incident.

I’m shaking all over because I’m about to give him the truth. All of it. “I didn’t love Weston the same way he loved me. It wasn’t fair to him.”

Dad’s hard laugh sounds more like a growl. “So, when you broke his heart, you were really doing him a
favor
? Is that what you want me to believe? Don’t think I don’t know what happens in my house!”

Dad’s more than angry, he’s pissed over Weston—throwing one of his favorite lines at me. I’m sure it’ll damage the relationship with Weston’s dad. But I’m hoping that after this morning, Weston will be okay. Maybe it won’t be as bad as Dad thinks.

“
Umm…not right now, no. But in ten years from now both Weston and I will be glad we separated now rather than later. So, yes.” I’m not sure why I’m trying to reason with Dad when there’s no way he wants to reason with me.

“
Dammit, Delia!” His fists clench up. “You can’t even see a good thing when you’ve got it! I don’t know what to do with you!”

His yell rings between us for a moment, and then silence just hangs.

“
Maybe I’m not your problem anymore.” But my voice is so quiet that I have no idea if he heard or not.

I can feel Dad’s anger simmering, just waiting to really let loose. I try not to visibly shake.

“
Delia.” His eyes finally meet mine for real, and I suddenly wish he was half dismissing me like he did earlier.

“
I’m going to stay here for a while,” I say. “In Crawford.”

His whole face relaxes, a reaction I don’t understand, and one that I definitely didn’t expect.

“
No you’re not, Delia. Go pack whatever you need. I have a plane scheduled to meet us in an hour.” He doesn’t even give me a second glance, just turns and continues to check tags on suitcases and zippers. Doesn’t think for a second that I’ll go against him.

“
An hour?” My heart starts thrumming. “I thought we were here until tonight. What about Mom’s car. We drove, and—”

“
I changed it. You’re not acting like yourself.” He scoots one bag closer to the door and begins looking over the next.

I’m acting more like myself than I have in over a year. “I’m staying, Dad.” I say it with way more resolve than I feel.

“
Delia.” He sighs as he drops his suitcase and wipes his forehead with another handkerchief. “I don’t have time for your teenage ridiculousness. Please go get dressed in something decent, pull up your hair, pack your bags so we can get out of this place and go home.”

I can barely breathe, but I owe it to Tobin to fight for him. And more than that, I owe it to myself. “This
is
home.”

Dad’s jaw tightens.

Maybe if I plead with him, like I used to do for shoes and fundraiser outfits. “I don’t want to fight with you Daddy, but this is my home, and I want to stay here for a while.”

“
Delia, I’m not messing around.”

“
Neither am I.” I cross my arms and try to keep my voice calm. “You’re not as big of a big-shot as you think you are, Dad. No one will notice if I disappear for a while. You can play on the angle of me staying in our home town as they mourn the loss of one of their young men. Or you can say nothing.”

“
Get upstairs, get dressed, and get in the car!” He means to be obeyed. Dad isn’t used to anyone telling him no.

“
I can’t.” It comes out in a squeak. I close my eyes.

“
Delia.” Dad’s fury is in his tightened jaw, clenched fists, hard breathing. He takes a step toward me, and I know he’s going to hit me. I know it.

I start to cower away, but stop. If I stand here, the worst that’ll happen is I get a black eye. But if I continue to let him bully me, I’ll never be free. I’ll never have Tobin. I’ll never have any peace of mind. “Go ahead.” I step toward him.

Dad pauses, his eyes hard on me. His shoulder and arm twitching, ready to strike.

I want to threaten him. Tell him that if he touches me, I’ll turn him in. I want to threaten to work for the democrats. Donate time to Planned Parenthood.

But I don’t.

I just stand.

Dad turns twenty shades of purple. The silence is thicker than the hot, damp, air. But I’m not standing down. Not on this. My life is spread out before me and he’s not going to take it. I can’t let him. Hot tears start to come down my face, but my determination hasn’t wavered. I’m doing it. I’m worth this.
Enough
.

Mom walks in from the kitchen, laptop under her arm and dressed for travel—plain skirt, lower heels and a blouse. She pats Dad on the shoulder without making eye contact with either of us. “Let her stay.” I wait for a second glance back from Mom, but she continues her walk toward the car. Maybe she’s okay with what I’m doing…maybe she’s not. Maybe she’s just trying to keep me from the same fate as her.

I know I need to give him an easy way out. “Please, Dad. I’m asking to stay in the town you raised me in. Surely if I’m needed here you can say something about that. Probably people won’t even ask. They know I’ve graduated.”

I’m going to have to actually start responding to texts from friends so they know I won’t be home. And I’ll miss some of them, but not all. Not the way I’d miss my friends from here. I’m no longer running from these people or this place, because I’m not long running from Tobin.

He stares at the door that Mom walked through. His eyes don’t pass back toward me. “We expect you to be in college in the fall like we planned.” He snatches his suitcase and heads for the door without another word.

“
Love you, Dad.”

The door slams behind him, and my legs give out as I slide to the floor.

I did it.

Twenty-eight

Tobin

"Tobin, can you come see?" Mom calls from the front porch.

The screen door squeaks as I fling it open. She's sitting in her rocking chair with a book on her lap. She's dressed in
actual
clothes for the first time since the funeral, and everything about the scene looks closer to normal than it has in a while.

“
What's up, Mama?” I say. I kiss the top of her head, and catch the soft, familiar scent. She's wearing perfume again, too. It smells like my childhood. Running into her arms after Eamon and I had been out all day causing trouble.

“
I know things haven't been easy on you, Tobin. I know I put a lot on you when it all first happened. I just want you to know that I love you, too. That you were both my favorite sons.”

I smile. She hasn't said that in a long time, but when Eamon and I were younger, she'd say it all the time. We were always in competition, always wanting to one up the other, even when it came to her love, so Mama always called us both her favorite sons.

“
I know, Mama.”

“
You boys were so close. And so alike. But in other ways, so different, Tobin. Your
hearts
were different.”

“
Where you going with this?” I ask.

“
You
are
enough, Tobin. I know you've been trying to stay away and give her some time, but you go and get that girl, and you don’t let her go this time. If losing your brother has taught me anything, it’s to hold the ones that I love closer than ever. You best do the same, son.”

It’s then that my mind goes to the ring that I threw out into the darkness when I let go of Delia once and for all, or so I thought. There’s no way to find it now. Part of me feels like a huge asshole for throwing it away, but the other part knows that it was for the best.

If Delia and I are ever going to stand a chance, we need a fresh start. Someday, maybe there will be another ring.

One that’s more like she deserves. One not tainted by so much hurt.

One that lasts forever.

Twenty-Nine

Delia