Remember to Forget, Revised and Expanded

by Ashley Royer

We get the tree cut down (by a worker, of course, because I don’t trust myself with something like that) and we nearly break the car trying to get it into the back.

  The whole car ride home, I’m afraid the tree is going to smash through a window whenever we hit the slightest bump. Being in a vehicle without a tree in the back makes me nervous, and this is just adding to it. Thankfully, nothing goes wrong, and we get home safely.

  “I think your dad will love this,” Delilah tells me as we pull into the driveway.

  “I hope so. Do you think Lucy would wanna help decorate?”

  “She probably would, but she’s at her friend’s house today.”

  “Oh, all right. Tomorrow, do you wanna help me go Christmas shopping?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I have to get something for my parents, Caleb, Aiden, you, Lucy, and Mitchell.”

  I was debating whether or not to get something for Mitchell, but I figured I would. He seems like he could use a friend.

  “You don’t have to get something for me.”

  “Of course I do!” I tell her, getting out of the car.

  “I don’t need anything.”

  “Sure you do. What do you want?”

  “Nothing.”

  “But you’re my best friend,” I pout. I instantly regret saying it.

  “I’m your best friend?” she asks quietly.

  “Well, yeah,” I say softly. I open up the back door and start to pull the tree out, trying not to scratch the car.

  “You’re mine too,” she whispers, helping me pick up the tree. I feel butterflies in my stomach from knowing that I’m her best friend too.

  We’re able to get the tree into the house without damaging anything except for a lamp. Neither of us have any idea how to set up a tree on our own, so we have to look it up. It takes half an hour, but it’s finally up and standing.

  “Where are the ornaments?” Delilah asks.

  “Ornaments? I didn’t even think of that,” I say, nervously rubbing the back of my neck.

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “Maybe the attic? Is there even an attic in this house?”

  “Let’s check downstairs,” Delilah says, running into the basement. I follow after her, and we search through all the shelves. We can’t find anything Christmas related. I’m starting to wonder if my dad ever did anything for Christmas.

  “It’s probably in the box marked ‘Christmas Ornaments,’ ” I say after a few minutes, laughing and pointing to a box on the floor. I don’t know how we didn’t notice it sooner.

  “That would make sense,” Delilah says.

  I bring the box upstairs, and, thankfully, I don’t break or drop anything. I open up the box and take out every single ornament. Surprisingly, my dad has many nice ornaments and decorations.

  “Wait! We need music!” Delilah yells, plugging her phone into the speakers. She starts to play Christmas music loudly and smiles widely. I roll my eyes, but I have to admit, it’s putting me in the Christmas spirit.

  I pick up an ornament and hand it to her. “Wanna put the first one on together?”

  She nods and holds on to it with me. We put it in the center of the tree, and I watch it hang on the branch. It looks so small all alone on the big tree.

  We continue to place the ornaments, trying to cover the whole tree. Delilah can’t reach the top parts, so that’s my job. I hum along to the music, quietly singing some of the songs.

  “You sing well,” Delilah says, looking at me from behind the tree.

  I shake my head.

  “And you say you don’t like music,” she whispers.

  “I don’t! I promise, this is the only time you’ll ever hear me sing.”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it,” she says, smirking.

  One of the ornaments I’m holding slips out of my hand—lucky for me, it lands on the carpet, so it doesn’t break. It bounces a little and rolls into the kitchen. I chase after it and put it on the tree.

  Once we’re out of space on the branches, it’s time to put the star on the top.

  “Here, you put it on,” I tell Delilah.

  “I need a chair to stand on.”

  “No, you don’t.” I pick Delilah up by her waist until she can reach the top of the tree. She puts the star on the top, and we both stare at it.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

  “Isn’t it?”

  I keep holding her in the air, despite the fact she’s begging me to put her down. I squeeze her sides and lift her higher. She laughs and tells me to put her down, but I put her over my shoulder.

  “Levi!” she yells “Put me down!”

  “Nope.”

  “C’mon!” she yells, giggling. She gently hits my back and kicks her legs. I toss her onto the couch and sit beside her.

  “It looks good, don’t you think?” I ask her.

  She nods. “It looks great! Your dad will love it.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Levi?” she whispers as we both look at the tree.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s nice to see you happy like this. It’s nice to see you getting better.”

  I shrug, not really knowing how to respond. There’s too much that I could say. For instance, that it won’t last long, but I could be wrong. Maybe I actually am getting better.

  We end up putting up Christmas lights and little snowmen around the house too. It’s very Christmasy. It really feels like Christmas now.

  It’s also the first Christmas with snow outside, which makes it even better. It’s strange having Christmas in the winter, since it’s summer in Australia now.

  I just try not to think about the fact it’s the first Christmas ever without my mum.

  I heat up some pizza for us while we wait for my dad to get home. I’m anxiously pacing the kitchen while Delilah sits on the counter.

  “Relax; he’s going to love it,” Delilah tells me.

  “I know. I just really wanna make him happy. I was so rude to him for months. This is kinda my way of apologizing, I guess. I just want him to like it.”

  Delilah hops off the counter and puts her hands on my shoulders. “Your dad will love you no matter what. He knows what you’ve been going through. He’s your dad—he’ll always forgive you.”

  I hug Delilah tightly, which is quickly ended by the oven beeping.

  “The pizza’s ready,” Delilah mumbles into my shoulder.

  “I know.”

  I take the pizza out, and while we’re eating I hear the front door open. I anxiously stand up and run to the stairs. I wave to my dad while he’s taking off his coat.

  “It’s cold out there! How was Aiden’s? Did you—” My dad stops talking when he sees the tree, and his jaw drops. “Did you do this?” he asks quietly.

  I nod and nervously rub my nose.

  He hugs me tightly, and I feel like he’s never going to let go. “It’s beautiful,
Levi. Thank you so much,” he whispers. He walks over to the tree, gently touching some of the ornaments. “I haven’t had a tree for two years,” he says. His eyes fill up with tears, and I’m afraid he’s going to start crying.

  Delilah comes over and puts her arm around me. I know she can tell that I’m still nervous, even though I know my dad is happy. She knows what I’m going to do. She always seems to be one step ahead of me.

  “This is the best surprise. I love it. Thank you so much,” my dad says, wiping his eyes.

  “Merry Christmas, Dad,” I whisper, hugging him again.

  I hear him start crying while we’re still embraced.

  “You talked. You’re talking,” he whispers.

  “I know. I’m sorry for being so awful,” I mumble.

  “Don’t be sorry, Levi. I love you. You have no idea how proud I am.”

  “I love you too, Dad.”

  “I never thought I’d hear you call me Dad again.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  DELILAH

  I found some extra Christmas decorations at my house, so I decided to bring them over to Levi’s and see if he’d like them. He was so excited about the Christmas tree and decorations the other day, I figured he might want some more.

  I go over to Levi’s right after school. I ring the doorbell, but no one comes to answer it. After a minute, I walk inside since the door is unlocked and head down the hall to Levi’s room. His dad must not be home, and I’m not sure if Levi is home either.

  Before I even step inside Levi’s bedroom, I see him sitting on the floor in front of his bed with a calendar in front of him. I put the bag of decorations down quietly.

  “One hundred twenty-seven, one hundred twenty-eight . . .” he’s whispering to himself. He has tears streaming down his cheeks. He doesn’t even notice me standing in the doorway because he’s so focused on what he’s doing.

  “Levi, is everything okay? What are you doing?”

  “One hundred thirty-two . . .” he continues, completely ignoring me.

  I sit down beside him on the floor.

  “Levi?”

  “One hundred thirty-six . . .”

  “What are you trying to do?” I ask, patting his hand to try to get his attention.

  “I didn’t count . . . One hundred forty . . .” he mumbles, wiping his teary eyes.

  “Count what?”

  He flips to the next month on the calendar and continues counting.

  “I can help if you just tell me,” I say, putting my hand on the calendar.

  He pushes my hand away and shakes his head. “Just let me do it, okay? One hundred fifty—fifty-two? Or was it fifty-three? You made me lose track!” he says, raising his voice. He looks up at me, his eyes frantic and wide.

  “Track of what? What is going on?” I ask.

  He flips back through all the months in the calendar, seeming panic-stricken.

  “Levi, just tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help,” I say again, calmly.

  “You’re the reason this happened!”

  “What happened?” I ask, confused. How do I have anything to do with this?

  “I’ve lost count of the amount of days since Delia died, okay! I stopped right here,” he says, going to November and pointing to a day toward the end of the month. He forcefully jabs his finger onto the paper and looks at me. Every day has a blue X written across it, up until the twentieth. “I don’t remember anymore. I forgot to keep count. I have to figure it out. I don’t know how I didn’t realize sooner.” He’s talking quickly and frantically, like he can’t catch his breath. He looks back down at the calendar and starts again.

  “One, two . . .”

  “Levi . . .”

  He continues to count and ignore me.

  “You can’t keep count of the days forever,” I whisper.

  He snaps his head and looks at me sternly. “Yes, I can. And I will. I need to. How else will she be remembered? I can’t forget—I can’t.” He shakes his head and tugs at the ends of his hair.

  “Just because you don’t know the number of days since she left doesn’t mean she won’t be remembered,” I tell him, reaching for his hands.

  He pulls his hands away. “No. I have to! I need to know the days she’s been gone!”

  “Levi, just listen—” I reach for his hand again, but this time he pushes me away from him. He’s not forceful, but it’s enough to make me move away. I’m taken aback by the fact he’s like this. I’ve never seen him so upset and frantic.

  “Delilah, no. I won’t listen. I want you to leave. I lost count because of you. You distracted me this whole time. I was too focused on you and didn’t keep track. This is your fault.” He starts sobbing and leans his head against the edge of the bed. “Just please leave. Please.”

  “I’m not leaving you home alone like this. You’re not okay.”

  “I’m fine,” he snaps, turning away from me. “I just need to count the days, and everything will be fine. It will be okay.”

  “Why is keeping count of the days so important?” I ask. I don’t understand how knowing the amount of days since Delia died will make him feel better. If anything, I would’ve thought it would make him feel worse knowing how long it’s been. I remember when he first got here, he ran away because it had been two hundred ten days since Delia died, and he was a mess. I thought after that, he might stop because it was making him so sad.

  He doesn’t turn around to look at me. “No reason.”

  “Then why do you have to know?”

  “I just do,” he mumbles. He sniffs a few times.

  I don’t say anything.

  “Please leave. I need to get back to counting, and I can’t do it with you here,” he says harshly.

  “Okay, fine.”

  I get up and walk toward the door. He doesn’t stop me like I thought he would.

  “C’mon, go!” he says loudly, still not turning to look at me.

  I take a deep breath. “I can’t leave you like this,” I say once more.

  “Yes, you can. I can handle this on my own. I don’t need you every step of the way. Delilah, just go!”

  His words sting. I remain standing in the doorway.

  Levi stands up and walks over to me.

  “I said go,” he says, glaring at me. His cheeks are stained with tears and his eyes are red.

  I shake my head.

  He rolls his eyes and exhales a shaky breath. It’s like when I first met him. He’s trying so hard not to cry.

  He clears his throat and won’t make eye contact. “I don’t want you here right now. I can figure this out on my own. I need you to leave.” He grabs his door and leans against it like he’s ready to shut the door in my face.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” I tell him. I reach for his hand and bring it away from the door. “I’m not leaving you alone in this state. We can either count the days together and I will help, or you can step away from it. You need to let go.”

  He whips his head away f
rom me and folds his arms across his chest. “I can’t believe you just said that! I don’t need to do anything! You’re not in charge of me, Delilah!”

  “I didn’t mean it that way! I meant you can let go. You know what I was trying to say.”

  “No, I heard what you said, and I know exactly what it meant. You think this is stupid and pointless. I’m just wasting my time doing this. You’re thinking exactly what everyone else has always said.” He pounds his fist against the wall and then drops his hand to his side. I flinch and nervously bite my nails. I have no idea what he’s capable of doing when he’s so upset.

  “Levi—”

  “Leave! Look, I’ll even put the calendar away,” he says angrily, shoving the calendar into his desk drawer. “See? It’s over with. You don’t have to be concerned. I’m fine. Now go.”

  I shake my head and start to leave. I stop for a second and look over my shoulder. “I know you’re going to pull that calendar back out the second I leave. Call me when you figure it out, and you’re back to being the Levi I know. Enjoy the Christmas decorations I brought you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  LEVI

  It’s two o’clock in the morning. I’ve been trying to fall asleep since midnight but all I’ve been doing is crying and thinking and crying some more. This has been happening way too many times, and I can’t stand when I do this.

  Sometimes I feel like when things finally start going great for me, I overthink everything, and it all comes crashing down. Lying here alone in the darkness, I recall everything that’s happened to me, whether it was yesterday or last week or last year or five years ago. I just keep thinking and thinking until I regret every single thing I’ve ever done and realize that my whole entire life is one big mess. I hate it. I feel so alone everywhere I go, especially at night.

  Tonight, I’m thinking about Delilah and how rude I was to her earlier. I don’t know what came over me. I realized I’d lost track of how long I’d been without Delia, and I was distraught. My mind became frantic, and it was like I couldn’t control myself. For over an hour, I was back to how I felt when I first moved here. Delilah looked afraid and nervous, like I was some sort of monster. I was a monster. I would be scared of me too.