Remember to Forget, Revised and Expanded

by Ashley Royer

  I’ve come to the conclusion that I have completely and utterly messed everything up with Delilah. I need to somehow mend things, because for a while, everything was going well.

  I stumble out of bed and head to my dad’s room, because I need someone to talk to. I slowly open his door, and he’s sound asleep. I quietly walk over to his bed.

  “Dad,” I whisper, poking his foot. He doesn’t move. “Hey, Dad.”

  He slowly moves, but then quickly sits upright.

  “Levi? Is everything okay?” he says, sounding worried.

  “Uh, I know we’ve never really done this. And, like, we’ve never really talked, like, actually had a conversation where I’m speaking, but, uh, I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t mind helping me right now. I’m just really confused.” I rub the back of my neck and awkwardly rub my feet together.

  “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says frantically, turning on his bedside lamp. He moves over on his bed and pats beside him. I slowly sit beside him, hugging my legs to my chest and resting my chin on my knees. “So, what’s wrong?” he asks.

  I don’t really know how to have a conversation like this or say what I want to say. I’m kind of new to this whole saying-what-I’m-thinking thing.

  I nervously clear my throat and take a deep breath. I have no idea how to put my thoughts into words. This was a stupid idea. I should’ve just stayed in bed. I don’t even know why I came in here; it’s pointless and awkward.

  “I made a mistake,” I mumble.

  “With what?”

  “Delilah.” I slowly look over to my dad, who is smiling. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  He smiles wider. “What about Delilah?”

  “I got mad at her for trying to help me with something,” I start. I don’t mention that it was because I lost track of the days since Delia died. Then he’d really think I’m insane. No one, besides Delilah, knows about the counting. “And I got really angry with her and told her to leave and she left and I didn’t actually want her to but she did and—”

  “Slow down. What were you mad about?”

  “It was stupid, really.” I sniff and rub my eyes.

  Thankfully, he doesn’t ask again. “Have you apologized?”

  “No, should I?”

  My dad nods. “If you were that mad, she’s probably not feeling that great either. Call her up in the morning and talk to her about it. Tell her you’re sorry for whatever you did.”

  “That’ll work?”

  “It should.”

  “Is that all?” my dad asks, tilting his head to the side.

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I think I like her,” I blurt out. I should not be having a conversation at two in the morning. I’m clearly not in the right state of mind, because I wouldn’t have told my dad that, ever. I feel my cheeks turn red, but thankfully it’s somewhat dark where I’m sitting.

  “That was kind of obvious,” my dad says.

  It feels like how things used to be with my dad years ago. Like suddenly, because we’re talking while the sun hasn’t even risen yet, everything is okay between us. Or maybe we’re both just exhausted.

  “It was?” I didn’t think it was obvious at all.

  “Yeah. Did your getting mad have anything to do with Delia?”

  I nod slowly.

  He takes a deep breath. “Levi, Delia was a part of your past. Sadly, she is no longer with us, and however sad that is, it is time to live in the present. It’s okay, though. You’re not leaving Delia, you’re just moving on. She will always be a part of your life—nothing can change that.” He takes a deep breath. “But I think Delilah makes you very happy, and I like that you’ve been happy and smiling. I think you need to do things and be with people who can help you get through a very tragic and sad part of your life, but they—we—can help you move on. You don’t need to forget your wonderful memories with Delia, but it is okay to start making new memories with Delilah. Levi, it is okay to be happy.”

  “Just because I’m smiling doesn’t mean I’m happy,” I cut in.

  “I think that’s how it used to be for you. But I know you. I know what you’re like when you’re happy. And that’s what you’ve been. It’s okay to admit it. It’s okay to feel it. I think you forgot how to actually be happy for a while, and now that you are, you’re not sure how to handle it. And that’s all right.”

  “I’m scared, though,” I mumble.

  “Don’t be scared of being happy. I promise that it’s not bad. It’s okay to laugh and smile.”

  “But it’s weird. I hadn’t felt like this in months. And suddenly, I move here and everything changes again. But I’m not changing back to who I was.”

  “I think that’s nearly impossible. Now you’re figuring out who you really are, not who you were. You’ve grown up, Levi. You have been through more than most kids your age. Change isn’t a bad thing.”

  “But I was happy . . . before. And now it’s a different type of happy. I don’t know how to explain it. Before it was like I felt excited and highly caffeinated all the time. But now I feel completely comfortable and safe. They’re totally different kinds of happiness, if that’s what happiness even feels like.” I sigh and bite on my bottom lip.

  “See, you just admitted to being happy.”

  “No, I didn’t,” I say quickly.

  “Yes, you did. Say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “That you’re happy.”

  “But I’m not.”

  “Levi.”

  “Dad.”

  “Fine. I’m happy. Okay?” I say, throwing my hands in the air.

  “Say it like you mean it.”

  I roll my eyes and sigh heavily.

  “I’m happy. I’m feeling happy, despite constantly thinking about Delia. But for the first time in months, I don’t feel like I’m carrying five thousand pounds on my shoulder, and I can finally breathe easily, and I don’t feel trapped anymore, and I’m not always anxious, and I’m laughing and talking, and I’m happy,” I say very quickly, and almost run out of breath. I inhale deeply and let the air out slowly. “But now I might have just pushed away the person who makes me happiest and ruined everything,” I whisper. I wipe under my eyes before I start crying. I have absolutely no idea where all that came from.

  My dad puts his arm around my shoulders and hugs me closer to him. “I’m proud of you, Lee. It’ll all work out.”

  “I thought I outgrew that nickname years ago,” I say, pulling away from my dad.

  He laughs lightly. “You never will.” He nudges my shoulder. “That was good dad advice, huh?”

  “It wasn’t awful.”

  Both of us smile and sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. I’m not sure when my dad suddenly became some wise father who is actually good at giving advice, but what he said actually helped. I feel a little better now. Maybe a lot better. We talk for a little longer about random stuff, and it’s actually really nice. It feels good to be with him
again, like how things once were. I start to yawn a lot and almost fall asleep midsentence.

  “I’m gonna go to bed now,” I tell my dad, slowly getting out of his room.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  I nod. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “If you ever want to do this again, I’m always here.”

  “I know. I just wish I’d realized it sooner. You’re not really that bad. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Goodnight, Levi.”

  “Goodnight. Oh, and Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for letting me move in with you and eat your food, and for not kicking me out for being such a jerk.”

  “That’s what dads are for. You’re not so bad yourself, Lee.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  DELILAH

  I’m woken up at three in the morning by the sound of my phone ringing. I reach over and see that Levi is calling. I sigh and pick up the phone.

  “Hello?” I whisper.

  “Did I wake you up?” Levi asks.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I don’t say anything.

  Levi speaks up after a few seconds. “I figured it out.”

  I sigh. “Okay,” I respond. I knew he would go back to counting the second I left.

  “What I figured out is that you’re right. I don’t need to know how many days it’s been. I can let go. I need to live in the now. And that’s with you. I’m sorry for yelling at you and getting so angry. I don’t know what came over me. I can’t help it sometimes. I promise I’ll try not to have it happen again, because I don’t want to lose you. I’m also sorry for calling while you were sleeping, but I needed to tell you now. I needed you to know. I get it if you don’t accept my apology,” he says.

  “Levi—”

  “Wait, I’m not done. I didn’t count the days. I still don’t know. When you left, I stood in my doorway for a really long time debating if I should go after you but then too much time had passed and I wanted to, I really did. But I wasn’t mad at you, I was mad at myself. None of it is your fault.”

  He stops and takes a deep breath.

  “Please say something,” he whispers.

  I smile a little. “Of course I forgive you. I get that you were upset. I understand. It’s okay. I appreciate you calling me. I regretted not staying with you, and I was really worried. You weren’t in a great state of mind; it happens to everyone sometimes. I’m happy you’re okay now too. Thanks for calling,” I tell him.

  I hear him exhale slowly. “I was so worried you would be mad at me,” he says quietly. He sounds like a little kid; the total opposite of earlier. He also sounds exhausted.

  I wonder if he tried to continue counting the days, or if he didn’t try again. Either way, I’m proud of him for making the right choice. It’s healthier for him to not be keeping track; it probably just made him more depressed. I can’t even imagine counting the days since someone’s death.

  “Go to sleep and we can talk later, okay? You sound like you haven’t slept,” I tell him, yawning. I need to sleep too.

  He laughs quietly. “I haven’t slept at all. Goodnight, Delilah.”

  “Goodnight, Levi.”

  Both of us wait a few seconds before hanging up the phone.

  “See ya,” he whispers, ending the call.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  LEVI

  I walk over to Delilah’s house the next morning. I want to make sure she really does forgive me, because I feel awful about how I treated her. I don’t want her to be mad at me. Over the phone, I can’t see her face and tell how she truly feels.

  I ring her doorbell, and she answers it after a few seconds.

  “Hi,” she whispers.

  “Hi.” I should have thought about what I was going to say before I got here.

  We both awkwardly stare at one another, not knowing what to say.

  “I’m sorry,” we both say in unison.

  “Why are you sorry?” I ask, surprised.

  “I should’ve just let you count the days. I know how important Delia is to you. I just hated seeing you so upset.”

  “No, no. You were right. I should’ve just listened to you from the start. It was just making me sadder. I actually feel kinda better not knowing how many days it’s been.”

  Delilah smiles. “I’m happy to hear that.”

  I nervously run my hands through my hair. “So we’re okay now?”

  “Yes, don’t worry.”

  “I can’t help it.” I don’t know what I would do if Delilah was mad at me.

  “Wanna come in?”

  I nod. “So does this mean you forgive me?” I ask, stepping inside.

  Delilah laughs. “I told you when you called that I forgave you, and I meant it.”

  “Okay, just making sure. It would suck if you didn’t forgive me.”

  I follow Delilah into her room, waving to Lucy when we walk past her.

  Lucy runs out of her room and grabs on to my leg.

  “Lila said you were mad at her,” Lucy says.

  I look up at Delilah, and she’s blushing.

  “Lucy, no, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did. I asked yesterday if Levi could come over and you said he was mad at you.”

  Delilah puts her head in her hands and I laugh.

  “Are you still mad at her?” Lucy asks me.

  “Nope.”

  “Why were you mad?”

  “Just a silly reason.”

  Lucy laughs. “Silly is a funny word.”

  I smile.

  “Lucy, why don’t you go draw us some pictures, okay?” Delilah tells her.

  “Okay! I’ll bring them when I’m done!” Lucy says, running into her room.

  “Sorry about that,” Delilah says.

  I shrug. “I wasn’t mad at you.”

  “You so were!” she says, laughing.

  “Only temporarily! Now I’m not,” I tell her, hugging her tightly to annoy her.

  She laughs and tries to squirm out of my hug.

  “Okay, I get it! You can let me go now,” Delilah says, hitting my chest.

  I laugh and stop hugging her.

  Everything feels back to normal. Yesterday was just a weird day for me, and I think Delilah realizes that. She doesn’t seem to be holding anything against me, which is good.

  I tell Delilah that I looked at all the decorations she brought over yesterday. I put some in my room, and some more around the house. It was really thoughtful of her to do that, and I was so rude to her. I didn’t even notice the bag of decorations until today. Even though she told me about them when she left, I was so concerned about counting the days that I must have forgotten.

  Delilah points outside. “It’s starting to rain,” she says, looking over at me and smiling.

  I stand in front of the window, l
ooking outside. “It’s not gonna be too much.”

  “How do you know that?”

  I shrug. “I was really interested in the rain when I was younger, I know all about the clouds. It’s super embarrassing,” I tell her, feeling my cheeks heat up.

  “That’s cute!”

  “No, it isn’t! It’s weird!”

  Delilah laughs. “It’s interesting. I remember when I had the interview for school and you said that your favorite thing to do was watch the rain.”

  I roll my eyes. “I couldn’t think of anything better.”

  “Wanna go outside?” she asks, looking out the window.

  “In the rain?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s freezing out!”

  “So what! Just go out for a little then come back. Like you said, it won’t rain too much.”

  Before I can make any decision, Delilah throws on her rain jacket and starts heading out. I pull on the hood of my sweatshirt and follow her.

  She stands outside in the driveway, smiling at me while I’m in the doorway.

  “C’mon!” she yells, waving me over.

  I laugh and run over to her.

  “Why are we out here?” I ask. The rain is gently hitting the pavement, leaving small spots everywhere. There are some raindrops on Delilah’s coat, which is a little too big for her.

  “Because you like the rain.”

  “That doesn’t mean I want to be outside in the cold,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around myself. “I’m not seven years old anymore.”

  “Pretend.”

  She jumps into a small puddle and laughs. Her hood falls off, but she doesn’t bother pulling it back on.

  It’s cute how she’s running around in the rain like a little kid. She’s so excited for some reason. I watch her stand under a tree, trying to keep somewhat dry. Her cheeks are rosy and her hair is damp. Some of her mascara has started to run.