Discovering Delilah Page 16

  Everything about her makes me want to be closer, even in public.

  Bolton leans between us. “You guys want a drink?” He’s wearing a navy T-shirt that clings to his muscular pecs and a pair of low-slung jeans. I’ve noticed several girls checking him out.

  “I’m good, thanks,” I answer.

  “Just a soda for me,” Ashley says.

  “You can drink, Ash. I’m driving.”

  “Nah. I don’t really want to.” She moves closer to me as her friend Carly squeezes between her and Bolton.

  Kenny was right. Carly’s hair is similar to Carrot Top’s. It’s darker red, with corkscrew curls that spring out in every direction. It’s cut above her shoulders and bounces as she sways to the music. Ashley and I ended up wearing miniskirts and blousy tanks, and I guess it was the right choice, because Carly’s wearing a minidress. She didn’t blink an eye when Ashley introduced me as her girlfriend—Ash had asked me on the way over if it was okay to do so. Ashley is being so careful to ensure that I’m comfortable. I feel ashamed about feeling funny about us in public. Ashley says she understands, but Janessa’s advice continually sails through my mind, so I’m trying hard to push past my own insecurities.

  “I’ll take whatever you’re having, Bolt,” Carly says.

  “Cool. Be right back.”

  We watch as Bolton moves through the crowd toward the bar along the far wall. Girls turn and watch him from behind as he walks past, and he seems like he doesn’t even notice, just continues his beeline toward the bar.

  “How long have you guys been dating?” Carly asks.

  “Not long,” Ash says.

  “But we’ve known each other two months, so it feels longer,” I add, and hook one finger with Ashley’s. She smiles up at me. I love that my touch means so much to her.

  “You seem like you’ve been dating a really long time. Come on. Let’s dance.” She grabs our hands and pulls us into the crowd.

  Ashley dances close to me, although it’s too crowded to put any real space between us. Carly’s a good dancer and makes us laugh when she does funky moves. When the music slows, Carly puts a hand on each of our shoulders and turns us toward each other.

  “Okay, lover girls. Your turn. I’m outta here.” Carly walks off the dance floor, and for a second Ash and I stare at each other.

  Ashley’s hair frames her face. Her head’s tilted gently to the side, and she arches a brow. I can’t stop myself from glancing around the dance floor. No one is paying any attention to us, and somewhere in my head I hear myself whisper, And so what if they were?

  I step closer and place her hand on my hip. Then I wrap my arms around her neck and rest my head on her shoulder. I feel her heartbeat speed up as we begin to move in perfect rhythm. I close my eyes, trying to ignore the nerves prickling along my skin. Getting lost in Ashley is easy, but pushing away the look in my parents’ eyes when I told them I was a lesbian isn’t. But I’m still trying.

  I try.

  And try.

  And try.

  And little by little, as Ashley’s perfume fills my senses and the chatter of the other people on the dance floor fades away, I sink into the moment. There’s only me and Ash. Her hands on my back, holding me close, her heart beating strong and stable against mine. When the song picks up its beat again, Ashley keeps me close.

  “Just for another second? Please?” she asks.

  I tighten my grip around her neck. One day this will be old hat to us. One day she’ll be able to take my hand and walk out on a dance floor without encountering my hesitation. But right this second, I’m thankful for this brief respite from the discomfort that’s been tethering my heart for so many years.

  An hour or so later we all pile into my Jeep, Ashley in the passenger seat, Bolton and Carly in the back. Carly sits pressed against Bolton’s side, tucked beneath his arm. She’s got a drunken smile on her lips, and if I didn’t know they weren’t dating, I’d wonder, because of the way Bolton holds her protectively and rests his cheek on the top of her head.

  “You okay, Car?” he asks.

  She nods. “I had a great time. Ash, I wish you came home more often.”

  Ashley turns in her seat so she can see Carly. “Maybe we’ll try to.”

  We’ll. She says it so easily and with such confidence, like we’re a given, that the word wraps around me like an embrace.

  When we reach Ashley’s house, Bolton hugs us both. “See you guys at the play tomorrow?”

  “Definitely,” Ashley answers. “Thanks for the invite tonight.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s great to see you.” He hugs her again. “And, Dee, I hope you had a good time.”

  “I did. I had a great time, thanks.” I watch him walk down to his house, and when Ashley reaches for my hand, I don’t do a quick sweep of the area. I take it and hold on tight. “I love your friends.”

  “I’m glad. They’re all pretty cool,” she says as we walk up the front steps.

  “Bolton reminds me of Wyatt. He even called me Dee.”

  “I call you Dee sometimes.” She unlocks the door and pushes it open.

  “But you’re my girlfriend. Almost everyone else calls me Delilah except Wyatt.” We walk inside and take off our shoes as quietly as we can.

  “Let’s get some ice water before we go downstairs.” Ash takes my hand again. We walk into the kitchen, where we find a note from her mom and a bottle of Motrin.

  Girls, drink lots of water and take two of these if you drank too much. Kenny will be up early! Xo, Mom.

  “Your mom is the best.”

  “Do you miss your mom?” Ashley fills a glass of ice water and sets it on the table.

  “Yeah, but she wasn’t accepting like your mom, so I know it could never have been like this at my house. But I still miss her.”

  She takes me in her arms and kisses me lightly. “I’m sorry, Dee,” she whispers.

  “I thought I heard you come in.” Her mother comes into the kitchen wearing a short robe, tied at the waist, and slippers.

  I step out of Ashley’s arms and mumble an apology.

  Her mother laughs, a softer version of Ashley’s sweet laugh. “Oh, sweetheart. Are you kidding? You’re sorry for showing affection to my daughter? Please.” She swats at the air. “I’d be more worried if you didn’t.”

  “You’re not bothered by us? Not at all?” I don’t know where the courage to ask this comes from, but as she fills a glass with juice, then settles into a seat at the table, I’m not embarrassed to ask.

  She pulls out the chair beside her and pats it. I sit, and Ashley sits on my other side.

  “Delilah, I’m sure there are lots of people who will look at you girls sideways, just as there are still people out there who take issue with interracial relationships. I can’t change them.” She presses her lips into a firm line. “I wish I could, but…well…I can’t. But as far as Ash’s father and I are concerned, if you’re lucky enough to experience love in this mixed-up world, then you’re lucky. Ashley’s the same person as the little girl I held in my arms and nursed. The same girl who was Annie in the spring play in elementary school and drew a beach on her walls using markers when she was Kenny’s age. All I’ve ever wanted was for my baby to be happy. You make her happy, and that’s good enough for me.”

  She leans forward and takes me in her arms as tears fall down my cheeks. I’m not sure why I’m crying, if it’s because I envy Ashley for her mother’s support, or I miss my mom, or if I’m just so thankful to be accepted that it pulls me under. Or maybe I’m crying because finally—God, finally—I can breathe without the weight of my parents’ stare hovering over me. If even for a few seconds.

  She draws away and hands me a napkin. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

  I shake my head and wipe my tears as Ashley reaches for me. “You didn’t make her sad, Mom. You made her happy.”

  That night when we crawl into Ashley’s childhood bed, I reach for her and I love her without holding anything back.
And I hope and pray that in the morning I still feel this confident and this free—because I know I’ll feel more for Ashley than I do right now, just as I have every day since our first kiss. And she deserves to be loved without the memory of my parents stealing one second of it away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ~Delilah~

  THE NEXT MORNING I’m sitting on Ashley’s bed looking at her photo album while she showers. The bedroom door flies open and Kenny leaps onto the mattress and scrambles up next to me. He leans his chin in his palm, and I wonder how he can go from moving so fast to being almost perfectly still. I’m glad I’ve already showered and dressed. I make a mental note to remember to always get up early when we’re here. I can just imagine how awkward it would be if he ran in when we were still in bed together.

  “Whatchya doing?” His hair is askew, and his breath smells like sugary cereal.

  I look from him to the album. “Looking at your sister’s pictures.”

  “She was a dork back then.” He points to a picture of Ashley when she must have been about his age, with two long pigtails, wearing a pink shirt and matching shorts.

  “She was cute.” I bump him with my shoulder.

  “You only think that because she’s your girlfriend and you have to. When I have a girlfriend, I’m not going to think she was pretty when she was a dork. But I guess dorks can be pretty, too. Ashley was a pretty dork. Do you like to play Minecraft?”

  I need a lot of coffee to keep up with this kid.

  “I haven’t ever played, but I’m not much of a video game person.”

  He frowns at that and shakes his head. “That means you’re a dork, too.”

  “Ah, so a dork is someone who doesn’t play video games? Good to know.”

  “I guess. Sort of. But you can be an ugly dork. But you’re not. You’re a pretty dork. Do you kiss Ashley? Do you kiss her a lot? I know you hold her hand because my mom said that you guys hold hands sometimes. I don’t care that you hold her hand. I like to hold her hand, too. She’s a good hand-holder.”

  Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.

  His mother appears in the doorway. She is dressed in a pair of jeans and a blouse and is carrying two cups of coffee. She hands me one and sets the other on the dresser.

  “I thought you girls would need these. Ash said you take cream and sugar. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Wow, yes, thank you. You didn’t have to do this.” My own mother didn’t deliver coffee to my bedroom.

  “We need to keep our guests fueled to keep up with this little powerhouse.” She reaches a hand out for Kenny.

  He groans as he climbs off the bed. “Wait.” He turns back toward me, and I hold my breath. I don’t know what to expect, but after the questions he fired at me a few minutes ago, I’m a little worried that he might ask me again if I kiss Ashley, and I’m not sure how Ashley and her mother would want me to answer that. Although I get the feeling that in this house, honesty goes a long way.

  Lucky Ashley.

  “Make it quick, Kenny,” his mother says with a stern voice and a smile. How do parents achieve that? “You still need to bathe and practice your lines.”

  “Will I see you after the play?” he asks.

  “Yes, definitely. We’re leaving today, but you’ll definitely see us before we go.”

  “Good.” He walks away, holding his mother’s hand. “I had to make sure I liked her.”

  “And? Do you?” his mother asks.

  “Nope. I love her, just like Ashley does.”

  My jaw drops open as Ashley steps out of the bathroom and sees me staring at the door.

  You love me?

  Ashley hurries over to the door, listening as Kenny’s voice—“Do you think they kiss?”—fades down the hall.

  I bury my face in my hands, embarrassed that Kenny is asking his mother about us kissing and mortified that a seven-year-old feels comfortable talking about us kissing when I’m such a chickenshit in public. I don’t hear her mother’s response.

  “Told you he has no filter.”

  I love her, just like Ashley does. That little boy overwhelms me, in a good way. He loves me even though I want to kiss his sister and my own parents couldn’t seem to.

  Ashley and I have a few hours to kill, so we go for a drive and she shows me the elementary, middle, and high schools she attended. We get out at the high school and walk around the brick building just to kill time.

  “What was it like being out in high school?” I know she won’t mind that I ask. Ash is like an open book, unlike me, whose true self has been kept under lock and key forever.

  She shrugs. “At first it was a little weird. Some people looked at me funny or avoided me for a while, but there were other gay and lesbian kids at school. And I had Bolton. He never acted funny around me. Now that I think about it, he is kind of like Wyatt. He would never let anyone say anything bad, and if anyone looked at me funny, he gave them hell. But I think even if he hadn’t been there, it would have been like anything else in life. After a few weeks it was no big deal. And I had my parents’ support. I think that made everything easier.”

  She stops walking and looks at me. “I’m sorry you didn’t have that, Dee. I wish you did, and not just so our relationship could be easier, but for yourself. So you weren’t so conflicted for all those years. I can’t imagine how hard that was for you.”

  “Thanks, Ash. I wish I did, too, but if there’s one thing I learned in counseling, it’s that I have to figure out how to move forward, because I can’t change the past. Talking to your mom last night helped. She helped me to remember how much I loved hugging my mom and hearing her voice.”

  “Well, I’m glad it helped, but if it’s too hard being here, just tell me.”

  “No. It’s just the opposite. I like it here. I loved my mom and dad, even though they were strict and even though their views were different from mine. I just…I guess it’s easy to forget the good when I’m wrapped up in the bad.”

  We’re walking again, and I don’t even realize I’ve reached for Ashley’s hand until our fingers connect. I wait for the rush of worry to swell in my chest, but it’s so faint I barely feel it, making it easier to push away.

  “I’m glad you invited me. Thank you.”

  “Me too. I think going home next weekend will be good for you, to gain some closure. Do you want me to go with you?”

  “I always want you with me, but this is…I don’t know. I think I have to do it by myself. Is that rude?”

  “No. I understand. And if you need me, I’m only a phone call away.”

  “Why are you so supportive of me?” I ask as we cross the parking lot toward the car.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she says lightly. “I love you.”

  I reach for the car to stabilize myself.

  “You love me?” I whisper. I heard Kenny say it, but I didn’t think it was real. Ashley never said those words to me before.

  Ashley steps closer and presses her finger against my lips. “I don’t need you to say it back. I just need you to know how I feel.”

  You love me.

  The words are still tying a pretty little bow around my heart as she continues speaking.

  “I’ve been falling for you every second since the moment we met, and I’ve been trying to hold it back because I didn’t want to scare you off, but…”

  “Scare me off? You’re so careful with me and protective of me.”

  “Seeing you with my family and being with you…” She shrugs again. “I don’t want to hold it back anymore, even if I can’t show you in public. I love you.”

  “Ash.”

  She shakes her head. “Please, don’t say it now. I know how you feel about me. I feel it every time you kiss me. But please don’t tell me until you can say it without worry of who hears you, because as much as I want your love, I want it free and clear of all the rest of the stuff we have to work through. I want to know that when you tell me you love me—whether it’s next week or next year—that you
would be just as confident saying it into a microphone as you would whispering it in my ear.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  ~Ashley~

  NEARLY EVERY SEAT in the small community theater is filled. Kenny looks adorable onstage, and Delilah and I take tons of pictures. My parents are positively glowing with pride when Kenny stands center stage and says his lines perfectly. At the end of the play, when Kenny and Patricia hug, he squeezes her with all his might, and the whole audience awws.

  When Kenny releases Patricia, she bends at the waist to catch her breath—I guess he really did hug her with all his might. Kenny walks to the edge of the stage and searches the audience.

  “What’s he doing?” my mom whispers.

  My dad shrugs. “It’s Kenny. Who knows?”

  Kenny puts his hands beside his mouth and yells, “I did it, Bolton! I hugged her and it didn’t stink!”

  The audience roars with laughter. My mother covers her eyes and shakes her head, but she’s laughing, too.

  My father rises to his feet and yells, “That’s my boy,” which leads to a standing ovation, to which Kenny bows about a dozen times.

  Delilah gets pictures of the whole thing.

  She stands beside me as we clap and presses her leg against mine. Ever since I told her that I loved her, she’s been stealing glances at me, like she’s trying to figure me out. I haven’t told her again, because she knows how I feel, and there’s no need to overwhelm her. I guess it was kind of selfish of me to say it out loud when she’s already dealing with so much, but when I’m with her, I feel so much. It was really hard to hold back. And I want her to know that I love her when she goes home to Connecticut. I have a feeling it’s going to be much harder than she anticipates, but I respect her need to do it alone.

  Delilah takes pictures of Kenny and my parents and Kenny and Patricia. She takes pictures of Bolton and the kids and my parents, me, and the kids. She takes so many pictures that I lose track of who’s in them.

  “Can I see your phone?” Kenny holds out his hand to Delilah.

  “Sure. Do you want me to show you how to take a picture?” She crouches beside him and he shakes his head.