Filfthy(65)

I bring her plate over and take a seat beside her, watching her tear off soft pieces of waffle as she’s engrossed in some online article about the psychology of advertising.

Two weeks from now, Delilah will sit here for the last time.

Three weeks from now, she’ll be gone.

The reality of that smacks me across the side of the head, weighs me down, and zaps my appetite. I don’t want to eat now. I just want to sit here, watching her, irrationally trying to hold on to the beauty of this present moment before it turns into a future unknown.





Chapter 31





Delilah



“I don’t trust packers. I never have.” Rue tosses some books into a cardboard box Thursday morning, and I hand her the packing tape. “When I moved across the country, they put my stuff in storage in Denver, Colorado for three months, Delilah. Three months!”

I’ve heard this story dozens of times, but I smile and nod and continue carefully wrapping her knick-knacks and placing them in a padded box.

“I appreciate your help here,” she says. “I really do. I just don’t trust many people to handle my things with same kind of love and care.”

“It’s fine, Aunt Rue.” I fold the box corners together and drag the packing tape across until it’s all sealed. This is the tenth box we’ve packed today and we’ve barely made a dent. Aunt Rue’s entire life is scattered about this big house, and we’ve both decided tackling each room one-by-one was the best plan of attack. “This is why I’m here.”

“How are things with you and the boy?” she asks, peering at me from the top rims of her glasses.

“He’s been busy this week. Charity events with the Cougars. Team meetings. Physical therapy. Personal training. There really isn’t an off season for those guys.”

“You sound sad.” She pouts her lower lip.

“Yeah, well. I’ve had fun with him. And in less than two weeks, I’ll be back home.”

“All good things come to an end.” Rue sighs. “Oh, to be young again. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to miss somebody who isn’t even gone yet.”

Rue rises, knees cracking, and claps her hands together.

“I think we’re done for the day,” she says. “You ready to take a load to the new place?”

My hand goes to my phone in my back pocket. I pull it out and check the screen for any missed calls or texts from Zane – not that they could have slipped past me. I’ve been clinging onto this thing lately, desperate not to miss another moment with him as our days together dwindle.

I know he’s been busy, and it’s not like I’m his girlfriend, but I was hoping we could spend time together tonight.

Rue’s doorbell rings, and I pop up. “I’ll get it.”

Seconds later, I’m peeking through the peephole, heart lit when I see who’s standing on the other side.

“Hey.” Zane stands before me, hips wide, wearing navy basketball shorts and a tank top. “I’m going on a jog; you want to come?”

“Oh.” I glance down at my yoga pants and bare feet. “I was just finishing some packing. Rue and I were going to drop off a load at the condo tonight.”

“You guys need help?”

“It’s a three-hour drive. We won’t get home until late.”

“That’s fine. I just want to spend time with you.” He flashes a boyish grin, and I melt on the spot. “Even if that means being stuck in a car with Rue Rosewood for a six-hour road trip.”

“Delilah, who’s at the door?” Rue calls from behind me.

“Just the boy next door.” I smile at him. He smiles back.

God, I’m going to miss this.

“Hi, Zane.” Rue comes out from behind me. “Having a nice afternoon?”

“Was just about to go on a jog, but Delilah mentioned you’re taking a load to the new place. Mind if I tag along and help?”

Rue gives him a side-eyed glance and then peers down her nose at him. “You really want to move my stuff?”

“If I’m being honest, I just want to spend time with your niece before she leaves. These are precious hours we’re burning up here.” Zane pulls his shoulders back, unshaken by Rue’s eagle-eyed stare. He lifts a bicep, curling his arm until the muscle pops out. I giggle. “I’ll do all the heavy lifting of course. You ladies won’t even have to break a sweat.”

Rue tries not to smile. “No sense in me tagging along. I’d just be the third wheel. You two run along. Take your little road trip. Delilah, the keys are hanging up in the kitchen. The address is programmed into the navigation system in my car.”