Discovering Delilah(83)

I shake my head. “No, but do you mind staying with me while I read it?”

She puts her arm around me, and a minute later I gather enough courage to read the message.



Delilah,

We can’t believe you’re all grown-up. Graduated! Dad and I are so very proud of you. Watching you and Wyatt walk across that stage was one of the proudest moments of our lives. You have both grown into such loving, strong adults. We love you so much, and we owe you an apology for reacting so poorly to your news. We are very sorry. Your father and I have been thinking about how much courage it took for you to tell us that you were a lesbian. (See? I can type it. I can even say it.) And that stunned look in your father’s eyes is fading. Mine, too, if there was one.

You’ve probably figured out that we’re not perfect. We have hurdles of our own to overcome in order to fully support you. Skeletons to deal with, harshly ingrained biases to try to navigate past, but we love you, Delilah. We’re going to try our best to be as supportive as we possibly can, and even if it’s hard for us for a while, please don’t take that to mean we love you any less than we did before you told us. You took us by surprise, but let’s talk about this after you celebrate your graduation.

Things are so different for your generation. Thank goodness for that, right? Know we love you and we’re trying.

Happy graduation! Drive carefully tomorrow (or today, if you read this in the morning).

Love Mom (and Dad)



I read the letter three times, soaking in every word.

They wanted to try.

“I need to go back.”

“To their graves?” Aunt Lara looks toward the graves.

“No. I mean, yes. I’ll come back here, but I want to see Ashley.”

Her brows knit together, and then her eyes widen. “Ash…Oh. Ashley?” She smiles.

I smile, and tears burn my eyes again, but they’re no longer angry tears.

“Oh, Delilah.” Aunt Lara embraces me and strokes the back of my hair, like my mom used to do. “They loved you so very much.”

I draw in a deep breath. “Thank you for coming, Aunt Lara. I think I need to apologize to Dad. I kind of told him I hated him.”

“I guess I don’t blame you. Want me to come?”

I shake my head. “I can meet you back at the house.”

This time I remember every step across the grassy lawn toward my parents’ graves. I notice the umbrella of trees to my left, the stone bench farther down the path, and the recently placed flowers at neighboring graves. As I sink to my knees, I feel every piece of dirt and grass pressing into my skin, and when I read my father’s headstone, I don’t think the word conditionally is missing.

You wanted to try.

I need to try, too.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I guess our bubbles were in different places, but I’m a good person, and I hope you really did know that. I love you and Mom so much.”





Chapter Twenty-Eight


~Ashley~

THANKS TO BRANDON, I find Delilah’s parents’ house without getting lost. He programmed the address into my GPS. My heart is jackhammering as I drive down her road. The houses here are monstrous compared to my parents’ house. It’s kind of intimidating. Delilah isn’t pretentious at all, but as I pass the manicured lawns, expensive cars parked out front of stone Colonials with massive pillars running two stories high and yards bigger than three of our neighbors’ yards put together, I can’t help wondering what she thought as she drove down our street. I recheck her address, and my stomach sinks when I don’t see her Jeep in the driveway.

What if she’s already left Connecticut?

I park in front of her house and grab my phone from the passenger seat. There’s a text from Brandon. Text me so I know you arrived safely.

Good timing.

I respond quickly. Just rolled in, safe and sound.

His response comes in a few seconds later. Good luck!

I press Delilah’s speed-dial number and listen to it ringing, hoping she isn’t upset that I came without calling. I hear loud music and turn as Delilah’s Jeep pulls up alongside my car.

“Hey!” Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying. “You’re here.” She looks down at her passenger seat and turns down her radio, then holds up her ringing phone. “And you’re calling me.”

I end the call, happy that she’s not upset with me. “I had to see you.”

“I was just going to get my stuff and drive home to see you! Let me park. Hold on.”

I scramble out of the car as she parks and remind myself not to jump into her arms. This is her neighborhood, and a very conservative one at that. I’ll only make things more uncomfortable for her if I’m too eager. She comes around the side of her car and—my heart swells with emotion. She’s so beautiful, and she’s smiling. Smiling! Her hips sway with newfound confidence, and she’s wearing her boots, which makes me so happy, given where we are right now. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her.