Page 75 of All of You
“Seriously?”
She nods. “Seriously. It’s been… eye-opening.”
“In a good way or a bad way?” I ask, staring down at her.
She picks at the flowers in the assortment. “Both I guess. Mom wrote about a cabin my dad was building for them. I kinda wonder if it’s still there.”
I lie back in the tall grass and wildflowers. “It is.”
“Wait what? How do you know?” she asks.
Her body shifts, rolling like a wave, her hips swaying with a rhythm that makes my cock twitch in anticipation. Her face is only inches from mine. Every inch of my skin is on fire, screaming for contact. I want to grab her, pull her into me, and crush my mouth against hers until we’re both gasping for air. The energy between us is electric, crackling like a live wire.
I clear my throat. “After they died I—”
“Oh I’m sorry,’’ she interrupts. “You don’t have to talk about it.” She flops back to the ground and stares at the clear evening sky, breaking the moment.
“It’s fine. I used to go sit on his porch and miss Olivia. But I was also thanking him for saving Anderson and my parents. I’d just sit there and wonder what kind of guy he was. Sometimes I’d clean up the leaves on the porch or yard. Keep the place looking decent. I don’t know. It was stupid—I mean it’s not like he was coming home or could see. It just made me feel better. And it was private. It was hard to be alone anywhere. Mom freaked and basically kept Anderson and me prisoner. But the house was sad and somber and it was so lonely even with everyone there. If I needed to get out, I’d sneak out and go to his place to be alone.”
Delia’s fingers intertwine with mine. It’s comforting now that my head has descended back into that dark place where the death of Olivia lives. My brain has trouble reconciling the fact that Delia’s the daughter of the man who saved most of my family. Like we were always meant to connect.
To meet. To be together, in each other’s lives.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine what that was like for you or your family.”
“Yeah,” I snort. “But I can’t imagine not knowing who my dad was or that I had a family I didn’t know about. Guess we’re both effed up.”
Delia laughs quietly before releasing my hand from hers.
Thirty Seven
Delia
Langdon looked so sad when he talked about Olivia. I’d never seen him so sad before. It was like his pilot light blew out just thinking about losing his sister. He pointed out the path that led to his house in the back field as we sat on the bench where my mom and Daniel carved their initials. Before he left, I gave him my new phone number and told him he could text me if he wanted. He promised to take me to my dad’s house soon so I could see it.
I’m impatient and determined and I really wanted to jump in Langdon’s truck and have him bring me over to the cabin right that moment, but he insisted that I shouldn’t jeopardize my first day of grounding. And he was right. I didn’t want to test Gramps’s patience.
Gramps rolled up to the house not even thirty minutes afterLangdon left. Probably for the best. Although he brought over my homework for the day I don’t think Gramps would have been pleased to see that I’d had someone over when I’m supposed to be grounded.
He shuffles out of the truck and I notice how tired he looks. How old he seems. I wonder if it’s stress. Stress from my mom appearing and then disappearing. Stress from suddenly having a teenage granddaughter that he didn’t know. Stress from said granddaughter getting kicked out of school for a day for fighting. Just a whole lot of upheaval in his life, out of the blue. Poor guy.
I rush out the door, down the steps, and help him schlep the grocery bags into the house.
In the kitchen we put the items away together quietly. I occasionally ask where something goes because I’m still learning the house. My house. I have a house. A home. A Gramps and a crush and friends.
And no Mom. I push the last thought out of my head.
I have a mom, she’s just missing at the moment and honestly, the rest of the list makes me feel better than harping on the last part.
After dinner, I take my pile of papers up to my bedroom, put one of Langdon’s playlists on and get my homework done. My heart and brain aren’t in it and it takes longer to finish than normal. I’m still exhausted.
I slip out of my clothes and flop into bed in my underwear. I pull the blankets up to my chin and close my eyes for a moment.
Langdon texts meGoodnight.
I grin and set the phone on the nightstand. I fall asleep thinking of the feeling of Langdon’s fingers wound through mine.
Gramps lets me go to work which is nice. But Langdon’s not at work on the weekends so it’s just me and Viv—again—it’s nice but also, boring.
