Discovering Delilah(59)

“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.”