My Heart for Yours (12 page)

***

“
You just missed Delia,” Nelson says.

With the mention of her name, my heart hammers in my chest.

“
She was here?” I ask.

“
Yeah, she schooled me at shuffleboard bowling! I’d been holding that record for the last two years. And that big city girl comes in and whoops my ass! You know what they say, you can take the girl out of the country and all that,” he laughs.

Even though it’s ridiculous, I feel myself swell with pride that she beat Nelson.

“
Where’d she go?” I ask. It doesn’t matter; I can’t go tracking her down like some lunatic ex-boyfriend, even though that’s exactly what I feel like.

“
Said she was going home, had to get up early for…you know…” he fumbles over his words and stares down at his boots.

“
Right,” I say. I finish off my beer and throw a couple of bucks onto the bar. “Well, it was good seeing you, Nelson.”

“
Hey, we had planned a bonfire out at my camp tomorrow night. Been having it planned for a while now, and just thought it’d be fitting to still do it in honor of Eamon.

Your girl said she’d be there, so I guess I’ll see you then,” he says.

I should tell him that Delia is most definitely not mine, but I let it go.

FOR GRANDMA

A woman is soft

Hard

The inbetween

The thing that saves

holds

binds

loves without question

teases without hesitation

Smiles without worry

and winks with reckless abandon

I miss you.

Twelve

Delia

The railroad tracks had been our meeting grounds since I could remember. It was a bit of a walk for both of us, but the stream that went under the tracks also led into the lake, and Tobin and I spent a
lot
of time in that lake together. It’s also the fastest way to get to town aside from walking alongside the road. I walked up the gravel mound the tracks rested on and started balance-walking on the rails.

“
Your hand in mine.” Tobin would tease, and we’d try to walk on the rails holding hands, but I know Eamon died on these tracks, and suddenly my legs feel weak. Eamon may have died along here somewhere, but this is also when I knew I’d lost my grandma.

My grandma, the
democrat.
The woman who fought with Dad for me when Mom didn’t, which was often. The woman who loved Tobin like one of her own.

***

I stumbled on the railroad tracks, knowing it was the fastest way to Tobin, but not being able to see through my tears. Our phone conversation had been short. Just long enough for him to know my dad was gone, my mom was asleep, and my grandma just died. My legs ran out of strength, and I just sat on the tracks and waited.

Gram had been the first person in my family I brought Tobin to meet. She’d loved him immediately.

“
You may be young, Delia, but you hold on to that boy. He has the kind of heart you don’t see in a man very often,” she’d said seriously.

I’d laughed, but I knew exactly what she meant. I’d felt it too.

“
I bet you two will make love with the same passion you fight with.” She snickered.

Tobin and I hadn’t gone all the way then, and my cheeks flushed hot. “I can’t believe you just said that Grandma.”

She’d winked and patted my back. That simple memory, pulled me into another round of agony over losing the only person in my family who understood me.

I heard his feet running toward me. Fast. Tobin never hesitated when he knew it was important.

“
Delia.” His arms came around me where I was crumpled on the ground.

I shook in sobs that I couldn’t control. Didn’t even
try
to control. My Grandma was my sanity. My safe place. My haven from my parents. She wasn’t allowed to die.

He kissed my head and whispered that he’d take care of me. That he wouldn’t leave my side until I was okay. His arms held me as tight as I needed them to. Tight enough to keep me together.

We heard the low rumble long before the train came around the bend in the tracks. Tobin stood up, keeping me in his arms. He lifted me like I was nothing and carried me home. No complaints.

He sat with me for two days. He stayed at my house holding me, even though it had to be miserable for him to be there. It was the first time he told me he loved me, and there was no way that I couldn’t believe him. Not then. Not in that moment. Not even now.

***

It’s so much harder being here than I thought it would be.

Instead of continuing to walk, I sit and pull out my phone. I have emails and messages stacked up so high I don’t know where to start.

The thing is, now that I’m back home, I don’t care about the fundraiser, I never cared about the signatures, and I wonder if I care what they think of me. Mercedes said that in an election year they always lose a few friends. I wondered how you can
lose
a friend, but isn’t that exactly what I’ve done in Crawford?

Kelly, Rachel, and I used to be tight. Really tight. But lately, anything to do with Crawford just hurt too much, and I’d been spending too much time trying to fit in there the way I’d fit in here.

I start typing an automated reply to my email, sort of amazed I even know how to do that.

Delia Gentry is unavailable due to the sudden loss of a close friend. She will begin returning phone calls and emails in…

How long could I get away with? Forever? I laugh.

…
two weeks. Thank you, Delia Gentry

I open the text messaging on my phone, pick almost everyone I know from D.C. out of my contacts list, and type in the same thing.

My thumb actually shakes as it hovers over the send button. This is for real. I’m taking two weeks off from being Delia from D.C. The release of weight off my shoulders feels incredible. Amazing. Like I could fly.

I hit send, and shove the phone back in my pocket. It feels good. Such a silly thing for me to stress over—telling people I need time. And not even to their face. But still, I never say no. I dig in and do.

Now that it’s done, and I’m free for a while, I take huge juvenile skips a short ways on the tracks just because I’m alone, and I can do whatever I want. My laughter fills the air around me, and I’m in disbelief that I didn’t want to come home before now.

The low rumble of a train sends me leaping off the tracks, and another fit of laughter hits me. And then I want to puke as the train flies by. Eamon. Stupid ass. I bet that boy died playing chicken, not whatever BS story that was probably fed to my parents. There was talk that it was suicide. Never. Eamon would never do that. I don’t know what exactly happened out on the tracks, but I know that for certain. He’d never leave his family—his brother, on purpose.

My heart breaks a little for Tobin, but I am so thankful that he wasn’t there with his brother that night. There was no limit to what those boys would do for each other, there’s no way Tobin would have stood by and watched his brother get hit, he may have very well sacrificed himself trying to save Eamon. I shudder thinking about losing Tobin,
really
losing him. And just that fast I feel like once again, maybe I shouldn’t have come.

“
Del-yuh!” Kelly shrieks as her laughter peels through the air. “Come ‘ere!!”

“
Delia!” Rachel’s behind her, and they’re holding one another like they need the support to stand up.

I laugh as I head their way. The air is practically flammable from all of the alcohol.

This situation isn’t likely to end well.

I trip on the rocks a bit as I jog to where they’re half-stumbling over each other.

“
Delia.” Rachel grabs my shoulders and puts our foreheads together. The smell of cheap whiskey burns my nose, and I try not to laugh. “I was such a bitch at the diner. I mean, seriously. Prom?”

“
Rachel.” I’m giggling as I put my hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay.”

“
She’s had too much to drink,” Kelly’s shaking in laughter.

“
What’s going on?” I ask.

“
Oh.” Rachel sighs before sitting directly in the middle of the tracks, letting her long, skinny legs stretch out in front of her. “It hurts.” She punches herself in the chest. “I miss Eamon.”

I glance at Kelly hoping for more explanation.

Kelly holds a hand next to her mouth like she’s about to tell me a big secret, and we lean toward each other. There’s a faint smell of beer on Kelly, but she looks to be pretty sober – at least she’s standing upright and leaning toward me without any problem.

“
Rachel. You’re in rare form tonight.” I shake my head, but am also a bit jealous of their freedom.

“
Rachel’s pretty sure she was the last one who was…uh…
with
Eamon before he died,” Kelly tries to explain.

“
But you were always such a good girl!” My eyes flash to Rachel, who might be gaining back a tiny bit of her sobriety. She’s swaying a little less anyway as she sits on the tracks. I can’t believe she’d sleep with Eamon. To say he had a reputation was putting it mildly. You’d get treated like a queen for the night, but he never made any secret that he didn’t do relationships. With Eamon, you got what you got. He wasn’t an asshole about it either. Just upfront.

“
I heard from Leslie that there were just pieces of him left.” She makes a sweeping gesture with her hand toward the forest.

Pieces. Yeah. That sounds more like what I thought when I heard the press version of the story. There’s a bigger mess behind a lot of what ends up in the paper. Or the paper prints a big mess when there’s nothing going on at all.

I feel bad for the girls, but mostly I ache for Tobin.

“
Think you could help me get her home?” Kelly asks.

“
Yeah. Sure.” The smile relaxes through my neck, into my shoulders, and spreads something warm through me.