Page 116 of All of You
I grin at her. “All of what you said. Except I’m going to be a diving coach and an architect. And I will definitely have a boat. But it’ll be big enough to fit all the dogs you want, so don’t worry.”
Without a word, she leans in closer, her lips gently grazing mine. It’s a gentle kiss filled with the warmth of our shared moment. The taste of tequila and chocolate lingers on our lips, blending together in a sweet and intoxicating dance. In that kiss, I feel a connection that goes beyond words or plans. The world fades away. Our bodies entangle in a hot-blooded embrace as if we’re trying to merge our souls together. It’s afeeling I never want to let go of.
“You make me feel alive,” she whispers, her voice barely audible but filled with sincerity.
I smile, my heart swelling with affection for her. “And you make me believe in love.”
“All of you,” she murmurs.
I roll myself on top of her making sure the blankets still cover us. “All of you,” I say as I slide my hand between her legs and brush my lips against hers.
Fifty Eight
Delia
“Ihave an announcement.”
Ugh, what the heck.Mom’s sitting on the end of my bed, pulling the covers back from my face and gently rubbing my leg.
“Can it wait? I was sleeping.”
“It’s waited long enough.”
I rub my eyeballs then prop myself up on my elbows. “What?”
“Well jeez, if you don’t want to know I can leave.”
“Mom,” I drag the word out. “Just spit it out. I’m tired and grumpy. What time is it even anyways?”
Mom grins. “It’s six.”
“Six?!” I cry out. “It’s Saturday. What could you possibly need to tell me at six am?” I flop back down to the bed thoroughly irritated.
“We’re moving.”
Dread spreads throughout my body. Bile creeps up my throat and my eyes start to burn.
“What?” I growl.
“Slow your roll babe. It’s good news. Get up. We need to leave like… now if we want to make it in time.” She gently smacks my thigh and stands. “Dress warm,” she says on her way out my bedroom door.
Tears leak from the corners of my eyes as I roll myself out of bed and pull on sweatpants and a hoodie. I angrily swipe my phone from the nightstand and text Langdon.
Mom just told me we’re moving { crying face }
I follow Mom out the door and into the camper van. It brings up lots of ugly feelings I thought I’d worked through.
“Mom, I don’t want to leave. I’ll stay with Gramps.” I swipe at my eyes.
“Stop crying Delia. For once, just…trust me.”
But I can’t. I won’t. I trusted my mother my whole life. Always. And now I feel grounded. Rooted somewhere in my life and I don’t want to give it up. I stare out the window as she drives.
Langdon doesn’t write me back. He’s probably still sleeping. Maybe Anna can talk some sense into my mom. The school year’s almost done. It makes no sense to leave now.
“When we got here…to Gramps, I mean…I was bitter and resentful. Overwhelmed and feeling heavy. So heavy. The world felt like a dumpster fire that raged endlessly and all I could do was hold my breath to try and keep the fumes out. There was a sourness in my gut, rotting me from the inside out and I didn’t know how to staunch it. I plodded and shoved ahead but I was only treading water. Not making any progress,” she says.
“Life felt hollow. A sham. Water the plants for what? Tidy up the camper to what end? Smile, be polite, laugh, be considerate—for who? I wanted to live in a tiny house—lakefront, alone, with you. I wanted to be left to my own devices each day. To cook when I felt like, to do chores only if the mood struck me. To be free of societal norms and rules and structures. I want to be wild and free. I was no good for you. I had to leave. I had to make peace with myself, my life and my…choices. And for that, I am so sorry Delia. You have been and always will be the absolute light of my life.”
