“Come on, Delaney. Let’s get you home,” he said as he lifted me out of the chair. He knew I wouldn’t be able to walk somehow, and I was internally grateful.
Only I didn’t have a home. Not anymore. Yet another thing I needed to get settled sooner rather than later. There was no home without Trenton. No reason to stay in bright and sunny California. Dark rain clouds loomed over top of me, and I didn’t see any other way out. My future was bleak when I thought about Trenton not being in it. There was no way I could go back to that apartment. A place that we shared together. The thought of leaving him here. Alone. In the ground. Caused me to want to scream.
Decisions would need to be made. Ones I didn’t think I could make alone. But had no other choice than to try. I had to face the music: I was now all alone in the world. With no one. Just as I was before Trenton came into my life. The way I swore that I was doomed to be.
Chapter 13
The day after the funeral I woke to find Delaney gone. There was no trace that she’d ever been there either. I knew that losing Trenton was hard on her, but I didn’t understand why she just vanished. Out here it wasn’t an easy task, and no one would admit to being the one to assist her in leaving. My mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that she left, let alone left without saying goodbye. She left no number or way of contacting her. Hell, I had an address, but there wasn’t a landline listed so it was a dead end.
That was four weeks ago. Thirty days of pure torture with feeling like I’d failed my brother. My best friend. What’s even worse, I woke up with more rage than I had before. Anguish over the fact that I couldn’t help Delaney and anger toward the woman who left my daughter and me. I thought by now that my feelings would diminish since so much time had passed, but they grew. Fiercer by the second. I’d always been told that I was a passionate man, but these feelings went beyond passion. It was almost like I was obsessed with the rage. Like I needed the anger to continue moving forward.
The only good outcome that’d occurred within the past month was that I finally got to move into my own place. Grace and I could finally begin adjusting to this new life with our own surroundings. I loved my parents’ dearly for taking us in, but I needed to be out on my own. Needed a way to hide the way I’d been feeling about the situation Grace and I were in. The only bad thing was that I had to put the punching bag in the garage because this house didn’t have a basement set up like my mom and dad did. Which meant that anyone could potentially walk in and see me letting out the rage that consumed me day in and day out. I didn’t want anyone to know how mad I was that she’d left us. I wanted them to continue assuming that I was fine when I was anything but.
Within the past three weeks, I’d gotten the house almost the way I wanted it with some help. Davis needed the distraction and I needed the company, so he, along with my parents’, offered to come over in the evenings and help me unpack and get situated. The most fun was having the two-year-old terror in the middle of the chaos popping out of empty boxes and out from underneath furniture. She’d scared all of us at least once and got a kick out of it every time one of us jumped or screamed. At least it kept her occupied while we got things done. By the end of every day, I looked forward to rocking Grace to sleep as I read her a story. It was my relaxing time. My way to enjoy spending time with the most precious thing in my life. Her nightmares and anxiety had gotten better, but if she weren’t kept busy or moving, she’d have a setback. Those were the hardest moments because nothing calmed her. She just had to work it out of her system. That’s when the rage grew. When I had to clench my fists together just to make sure no one saw me lose it. When she would go to sleep, then and only then, did I head to the garage and beat the punching bag until my arms could barely move. It was better than the alternative. Taking the pent-up emotions out on someone else was my fear. And I hadn’t had any altercations with anyone. Yet. That’s not to say it wouldn’t ever come. That’s why I needed the bag. Needed to get the emotions out.
Today at work, business was booming. And it was my favorite day of the week. Friday. The weekend was upon us, and I couldn’t wait to take Grace strawberry picking tomorrow. I barely had any time to think, let alone allow my mind to wander. It seemed like the whole city of Charlottesville needed their oil changed or a state inspection. But I welcomed the busy times because I remained distracted. Focused on something other than the problems I had at home.
Finally, it was time to leave and I couldn’t wait to get home to my baby girl. My mom was meeting me at my house with her since Magdalena, Andrew, and Liam were coming over. I’d put off her visit since seeing her after Trenton’s death. I couldn’t put her off any longer. And truth be told, I liked having them around. It’s like we were all meant to be in each other’s lives. The kids got along like they’d known each other their whole lives. And Magdalena, Andrew, and I just clicked. We all had so much in common that we never had a dull moment when we were in each other’s company. I missed seeing them, plus I needed as much normalcy in my life right now as I could get. The normalcy would help me remain distracted from the fact that I’d yet to hear from Delaney. I’d checked with Trenton’s parents’ and brothers and they hadn’t heard from her either. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Make sure she was adjusting to life without him. I knew I wasn’t. Plus, I hated feeling like I’d broken a promise to someone. Trenton knew what he was doing when he asked me to promise him because he knew I’d never break it. Not intentionally anyway.
The forty-five-minute drive passed by quickly and before I knew it, I pulled into the driveway to my mom’s SUV awaiting my arrival. Grace was running around the front yard. That girl couldn’t sit still if her life depended on it. The smile on her face caused a smile of my own to form. Seeing her happy was one of my main goals in life.
I parked my truck and got out, prepared to be attacked by the toddler running toward me. No sooner than I got both feet on the ground, she leaped into my arms.
“Daddy, you finally home!” she screamed with excitement, throwing her tiny arms around my neck to give me the biggest hug she could muster.
“Yes, I’m finally here,” I beamed, and all of my worries and anger disappeared the second I saw her smiling face.
“She was a doll today. No issues at all,” my mom informed me as she gave me and Grace both kisses on our cheeks.
“Thanks for watching her, Mom. I’m glad she was good for you today. You gonna stay for a bit?”
“Nah. This old lady needs to get home and feed your father. And you know I love having our little pumpkin. Have a good night, you two. Call me if you need me, son,” she said as she hugged me goodbye.
I hugged her back and held on a little tighter and longer than usual. She seemed like she needed the hug so I wanted to give her anything to reassure her that she was still needed even though I was in my late twenties. Hell, I’d always need her.
“Will do, Mom,” I said when she finally let go and walked toward her car.
“Alrighty, you. Are you ready to get some dinner in that little belly of yours?” I asked in a cheerful tone as I tickled her stomach.
“Yes,” she said through her fits of laughter.
“Then let’s go get it started. I might even have a surprise for you in a little bit if you can be good while I cook. Can you do that for me?”
“Ooohhh. You have a prize for me? I be good, Daddy. I promise,” she said as she nodded her head up and down and clapped her hands together. We’d just have to see about that.
“You better or you don’t get the surprise,” I said as I threw her up in the air and walked toward the house.
Thirty minutes later, the aroma of spaghetti and garlic bread filled the house, causing my stomach to protest and voice its hunger. I picked up the pot of boiling noodles and emptied them into the strainer. Turning back toward the stove, I picked up the wooden spoon and put it into the meat sauce that I’d left to simmer and tasted it. The garlic, onion, and tomato flavors hit my tongue and caused me to moan out and my stomach to growl agai
n. It was ready to go. I then added the noodles into the plastic serving dish and poured the sauce on top, mixing the meat sauce and noodles together. I didn’t like adding the sauce on top of the noodles for some reason. I wanted it all mixed together since it would end up that way anyway.
The timer went off for the garlic bread, and I grabbed an oven mitt and hurriedly went to take it out before it burned, sitting the steaming hot cookie sheet on top of the stove. I picked up each piece of bread and put it into the serving basket, then carried both the basket and bowl to the table.
I was setting the table when the doorbell chimed, alerting me of the surprise visitors that I had in store for Grace.
“Daddy, someone’s here,” she called out from the living room. She pulled her dolls into the room when we’d gotten home and kept true to her promise. I’d checked on her several times while cooking and she was just chatting away with them each time I peered into the room.
“You ready for your surprise, pumpkin?” I asked as I walked toward the door.
I checked the peephole to make sure it was who I thought it was, and sure enough Liam’s little face stared back at me through the hole.
I pulled the door open and held my finger to my mouth to get them to keep quiet and ushered them inside.
“Come see who’s here, Grace.”
She barreled around the corner full force and came to a stop. She looked up at me and then back to Liam, a smile forming on her lips as she began to jump up and down. Liam mimicked her actions and before long we were all jumping up and down acting crazy right along with our children as we all laughed.
Once the kids had gotten the excitement out of the way, we left the entryway to the house where they sat Liam’s bag and I guided them toward the kitchen/dining room. The kids slowly lagged behind as they whispered to each other.
“Did you find the place okay?” I asked, hoping they didn’t get lost on their way here.
“We were led right here. You’ve got the place looking great,” Andrew said as he turned to see where the kids were.
“Thanks. If it weren’t for my family’s help, it wouldn’t look like a house right now,” I joked as I motioned for them to sit at the table, and I went to the pantry to get out the booster seat and plastic bibs I stored there.
I came back and handed it to Andrew so he could secure it on the chair.
“Up, Daddy,” Grace demanded in true Grace form. I loved how she was so adamant about letting everyone know what she wanted, but I’m sure I’d regret it when she was older.
I picked her up and put her in the highchair and put the plastic bib around her neck, handing one over to Andrew once I was done.
“You’ve done this a time or two,” Magdalena said as she chuckled.
“I’m sure you’ve cleaned up your share of spaghetti messes. They seem to get it everywhere. I’ve learned my lesson on that front.”
We sat down and ate, and the more time that passed, the more I felt like they were meant to be here. Meant to be a part of my life. I kept waiting for the awkward moment to come where all of this would end, but it hadn’t. Instead, a true friendship had formed. Between all three of us. And most importantly, the kids loved each other from the start. They acted like they’d known each other their whole lives instead of that shyness most kids get when they meet new people.
Once we were finished eating, I looked back and forth between Liam and Grace and wondered how they could get spaghetti everywhere, other than on the bib. It was in their hair, all over their faces, down their arms. You name a place on their bodies, and there was spaghetti. I couldn’t help but laugh because this was always the case. I swear more spaghetti made its way on their bodies than in their stomachs, but they had that full look in their eyes.
I started to remove the dishes and Magdalena stopped me.
“Why don’t you and Andrew go get the kids cleaned up and I’ll take care of the dishes. That way we can all sit back and chat for the rest of the evening and the kids will be ready for bed,” she suggested, sounding way too much like the loving mom and wife.
I just shook my head and walked over to Grace. Carefully, I removed the tray to the highchair and stood her up, brushing off the small remnants that I could see into the seat, while Andrew did the same with Liam.
“There’s baby soap and shampoo under the sink in the bathroom in the hall. I’ll take Grace into the master bath,” I said as we both walked down the hall to wash off the spaghetti-covered toddlers. I showed him where the towels were and set off to clean off my pumpkin, which is what her cheeks resembled right now due to the orangeness from the sauce. I walked into her room and quickly grabbed her princess pajamas and a pair of socks, then walked into my room so I could give the terror her bath.
Grace got more water on the floor as usual as she splashed and bounced around in the tub, barely sitting still long enough so that I could wash her hair and body.
“Alright you. It’s time to get out,” I said as I held the towel up so I could pick her up. She proceeded to defy me and laid on her stomach and moved back and forth into the water causing some to splash out onto the floor.
“Grace,” I warned, and she pouted out her lip. She hated my stern voice, but it was needed to get her to do what I asked sometimes. She got out and came to my arms so that I could dry her off. I tried to get her in a better mood by ruffling her hair with the towel and succeeded by getting her to laugh. I dressed her quickly and grabbed the brush off the side of the sink. I’d learned all too well what happened when you didn’t brush her hair directly after getting her out of the shower. Knots. And lots of them. Which led to a pissed off Grace. Not repeating that mistake. Ever.
She tilted her head back and let me brush her hair. Unlike any other toddler I’d seen, she loved getting her hair brush, asking me often just to brush it out of the blue.
“You ready to go watch some cartoons with Liam before bedtime?” I asked, getting my answer as she ran out of the room ahead of me.
I cleaned up the water off the floor and put the laundry in the hamper, stopping in my room to change my sopping wet shirt courtesy of my daughter.
The closer I got to the kitchen, the better the smell became, but I couldn’t place what it was. I went into the living room first to turn on the television for the kids and changed the channel to one of the kids cartoon channels, then went to the kitchen where everyone had congregated.
“What’s that amazing smell?” I asked as I sat down at the table. Andrew had a cleaned up Liam on one knee and Grace on the other, bouncing them up and down causing them to laugh.
“Cookies,” Magdalena answered as she bent down, opening the oven to check on them. The chocolatey smell wafted from the opening and both turned their heads immediately and wrinkled their noses to the scent.
“Cookies, mama,” Liam said as he wiggled in Andrew’s lap.
She turned to face him, and I couldn’t contain the instantaneous laughter that escaped me. She had flour all over her face and in her hair, as well as on the front of her shirt. My laughter gained Andrew’s attention, and when he turned and saw his wife covered in flour, his actions mimicked my own.
“What the heck is so funny?” she demanded as she put her hands on her hips.
“Sweetheart, it looks like you’re the one who needs a bath right now,” Andrew explained through his continued fit of laughter.
“I was trying to surprise everyone with cookies. Looks like the cookies will be all mine since other people want to be mean and make fun of the cook,” she said. The timer to the oven went off, and Magdalena grabbed the oven mitt and pulled out two cookie sheets covered with chocolate chip cookies.
“You’d keep the cookies from the children,” Andrew goaded his wife and she fell for it, turning around and throwing the towel at him, sticking out her tongue in the process.
“No, but I’d keep them from the two of you,” she said causing us to laugh even more. The kids looked at us like we were nuts, but picking on her was too much fun.
The doorbell sounded, but I was in no shape to answer it because I couldn’t stop laughing.
“I guess I’ll get it,” she yelled out, both kids running behind her.
“Go into the living room and start watching cartoons, kids. I’ll bring you cookies once they’ve cooled off,” Magdalena said as she went to the door and answered it. The kids’ footsteps veered off and stopped shortly after, letting me know they’d did as she asked.
“I better go see who’s at my door before she scares whoever it is away,” I said to Andrew as I stood and started walking to the door.
“Knowing her, you’re right. You better hurry,” he replied, his laughter starting again as he followed behind me. He followed me closely then veered into the living room to sit with the kids.
I heard the gasp before I saw the person who’d made it.
I walked up behind Magdalena, making the picture look worse, as I stood behind her and held open the door.
The person standing on the other side was just as shocked as I was.
Delaney was here.
On my front porch.
I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that she’d returned, let alone ended up at my home because I was too shocked that she was here.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” she said as she continued to back up from the doorway. Toward the front porch steps.
Magdalena looked back and forth between the two of us, confused.
“Hi. I’m Magdalena. How are you?” she said, holding her hand out to Delaney. Only she continued to back up. Too close to the steps for my liking.
I moved past Magdalena, the boards creaking beneath me as I stomped toward the woman that left without a trace.
Reaching out with my right hand, I grabbed her just as she stepped back and almost lost her balance. I pulled her back onto the porch and close to me, not caring about how awkward it looked.
She looked down at the porch, her lip trembling. For what, I hadn’t a clue, but I was about to find out. I had way too many questions. Ones that only she could give the answers to.
Conflicted (The Existing Series Book 2) Page 13