chapter twenty-one

"I DON'T SEE no logic in Black Friday shopping. Bunch of people pitching hissy fits and trampling each other. What's fun about that? I say, go after the holidays and get all the clearance sales. Lot less dangerous that way," muttered Grandpa before shoving a forkful of green beans in his mouth.

Aunt Casey shook her head. "Papa, the clearance sales aren't the same as the Black Friday ones. Everything costs less."

"Bet you consider your life costs less too if you participate in something so asinine."

"You don't get it."

"Now that's somethin' we can agree on, darlin'."

Everyone had piled their plates full and scattered outside to eat, due to the cool weather and the fact that there wasn't enough room inside. We brought out chairs, and Dad had an old table stuffed in the shed that he dragged out as well. Some lawn chairs were falling apart, and the tables had dirt stains refusing to be cleaned off. People were too busy stuffing their mouths to complain about luxury, though.

Balancing the tightrope, I ate a piece of turkey or part of a bread roll if someone looked my way, simply to keep any potential questions being posed. The small amount of food was still enough to make my stomach churn and body resist retching it back up. This made me angry because I loved holidays, especially the homemade meals. I wanted so desperately to eat everything on my plate, but my mind would not let me do so.

When we ran out of chairs, some of us sat on the ground, including Harry and I, Nathan, and Uncle Robby's and Aunt Ruby's teenage girls, Brittany and Piper. The twins kept to themselves while Nathan and Harry engaged in a heated conversation.

"Dude, Titanic wasn't even all that sad," said Nat.

"All I'm saying is I'm not an emotional guy, but that movie made me bawl like a baby," said Harry.

"Look." Nat leaned over. "The trick is, when you start getting sad, just laugh. It makes you look like an asshole, but you won't shed a single tear."

Harry laughed. "Mental note made."

And they bumped fists.

Mom walked by with her empty plate and smiled at Harry, hopeful. "I hope the meal didn't disappoint."

Harry peered up at her, squinting against the sun with his near empty plate sat on the grass in front of him. "Not at all. It's exceeded expectations."

She chuckled. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it."

"Thank you very much for letting my sister and I come over."

"Of course."

When Mom was gone, Nat elbowed Harry. "You're an ass-kisser, man."

Harry smirked, giving an innocent shrug. "I got a good meal out of it."

Nat laughed then.

I looked up and saw Mom had moved on to talk to Gemma, Zac, and Des, who were all grinning at her genuinely. I bit my bottom lip, glancing back down at the food I'd barely touched and fiddled with the piece of turkey. My mind shouted at me; my stomach growled intensely. The two were fighting, and my mind had won. I withdrew my hand and clasped it with the other, placing them in my lap. I hadn't noticed Harry was watching me, but I wasn't surprised at the fact, either.

Harry knew better than to say anything, knowing it'd get him nowhere, but Nat had not picked up on the skill yet. "You doing okay, Delilah?" The concern was thick in his tone and his eyes studied me, welling with worry.

I smiled, the breeze blowing my hair in my face but I didn't bother to move it. "Yeah, just not very hungry right now. My stomach feels kind of weird," I lied, playing it off like I might have a touch of the bug. "Don't eat all the leftovers."

I couldn't tell if he bought my fib when he smiled, but he nodded. "Better not wait too long, though, or I might just have to eat all of them," he said teasingly, however I knew that he also very much meant it. Nathan loved to eat, especially holiday meals.

Tuning back into Grandpa and Aunt Casey, who had now moved onto the debate of turkey or ham, I closed my eyes. The sun was warm on my face but the chilled air made it a comfortable temperature outside. I heard the kids beginning to shriek again, signaling that they had finished their food and couldn't sit still any longer. I absorbed their laughter, and I absorbed Grandpa's and Aunt Casey's argument that was laced with loving banter. I tried to let these things tranquil me to get my mind off the pain I felt everywhere else.

Startling me to where my eyes open, Harry's hand had pressed onto my knee. Out of instinct, I turned to look at him but he was enthralled in another quarrel with Nathan. My eyes fell down to his hand on my leg, and I hesitated only a moment before slipping my hand under his, closing the gaps between his fingers with my own. In response, he gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

I couldn't take avoiding him any longer, or sitting here by myself when I was surrounded with amazing people. I scooted a little closer to Harry where our thighs were touching, then rested my chin on his shoulder so I could attempt to be apart of the conversation. Harry's thumb ran over my hand, and his body relaxed a little.

Nathan didn't take long to include me. "Okay, okay, Delilah. What would you choose? Would you rather be invisible or would you rather fly?"

Harry looked at me the best he could with my face practically in his neck, but I could see he was smiling. "Pick flying," he whispered.

Nat scoffed. "You can't cheat, okay. There is no boyfriend-girlfriend team right now. I stand for individuality!" He punched the grass dramatically, making Harry and I laugh.

"I don't know," I admitted. "That's a tough one. Both would be cool."

"Yes, but think about the all the possibilities for pranks if you were invisible. You could haunt people, rob a bank, take a kid's lollipop--you can do whatever because no one can see you."

"Why would you take a kid's lollipop?" I asked.

"That's cruel," Harry added.

Nat rolled his eyes. "I'm proving a point."

"But," Harry said, "if you could fly you could go anywhere you wanted. Traveled wherever without expenses of an airplane or boat."

"You could do that invisible too. You don't have to pay if they can't see you."

"Y'all are getting intense with this," I laughed.

"You have to get intense during a debate, D," said Nat.

"Or you could be civil," said Harry.

"Being civil is for people with weak spines."

"Gotta remember, he's a military man," I told Harry.

"Ah, right."

"So, D, what would you choose?"

I hummed to myself, pursing my lips. "I really don't know."

"You're no help."

"Sorry."

"Bet you could choose between chocolate or vanilla, though," joked Nathan.

"Chocolate," I said instantly. "Unless it's cake, then I like vanilla cake more. But anything else, chocolate."

Harry poked my cheek. "Speaking of cake, you said you'd make one."

Nat's eyes bulged. "You were going to make a cake?"

"I forgot."

"Unacceptable, D."

"I'm disappointed in you, love."

"For God's sake, I'll go make a cake then." I went to stand up, but Harry hadn't let go of my hand yet. I raised my eyebrows at him. "Well, do you want a cake or not?"

He smiled up at me then, dimples cratering as he batted his lashes. "Chocolate, please."

I rolled my eyes at him, but smiled to myself nonetheless. He and Nathan dove into another random debate while I picked up my plate and headed to the kitchen. Mom was already there trying to clean up, so I helped her after explaining that I started to feel a bit nauseous and that's what I hadn't eaten. She didn't look too convinced, but I distracted her from the topic by asking where she kept Grandma's cake recipe.

Mom had gone back outside while I stood at the counter, mixing the batter together. She'd only been out for a few minutes when the door slid back open, and I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong when I saw it wasn't Mom at all. Gemma had come inside with a sheepish smile on her face, but had no trouble stirring up chit-chat.

"Need any help?"

Trying not to make things awkward--like I had a tendency to do--I said, "Sure. You can get me a pan out of that cabinet, if you don't mind." I pointed with the chocolate-batter covered whisk.

Gemma glanced at how much mixture was in the bowl before rummaging for the appropriate pan size. "Harry brought Des over a slice of the cake you made before. She absolutely devoured it."

I laughed, my cheeks flushing a little. "Aw, well, I'm glad she liked it. Family recipes are the best ones."

"I can't argue with that." She leaned her hip into the counter, watching me mix. She took me off guard when she asked quietly, "How are you doing, Delilah?"

"I'm fine."

"No, how are you really doing?" When I didn't answer, she continued. "I know it's hard. Believe me, I do. Harry was talking to me earlier about how scared he is for you. He's a good guy, yeah? I've never quite met anyone who has as much patience as he does."

"Yeah," I murmured. "He's kind of perfect."

She laughed. "Maybe a bit of an exaggeration. You know, he can't tell jokes for the life of him. Bloody awful, they are."

I smiled. "I've only heard a few, but they were so ridiculously stupid you had to laugh."

She nodded. "Exactly!"

I preheated the oven, then went to pour the batter into the pan. Gemma got a spatula to help me scrape all of it out in the bowl and spread it evenly. When we got the cake in the oven, I could sense a more serious topic coming. That feeling you get when you just knew something was about to take a turn downhill.

"He may be patient," she started, voice still quiet, "but everyone breaks sooner or later."

I looked down at my hands where I fiddled with my thumbs.

"What I mean is..." She sighed. "I've been exactly where you are. I know how devastating it can be, and I know what it's like to lose someone you thought you really cared about. But Harry really cares about you, and I can tell you feel the same. I know it's hard to try and let someone help you, but you should consider it. You don't want to lose someone like him."

"I'm tired of being this way," I whispered, the lump I thought I'd finally rid of swelling in my throat again for the first time in weeks.

Much like her brother, Gemma didn't reply with words. She pulled me into a hug and it took all of me to keep from getting tears on her shoulder. One escaped my eye, but it stayed on my cheek until we pulled away and I could dry it. She offered a gentle smile, grabbing my hands and squeezing them.

"Everything is temporary," she told me, "even when it seems like it's forever."

I inhaled a big breath, trying to calm my nerves before I got too worked up. I managed to return her smile with one of my own, and I wiped under my eyes even though no more tears had fallen. I took in Gemma's words and I held them close to my heart, keeping them as a reminder for when a situation didn't seem escapable.

As easily as she brought the subject up, she dropped it and moved onto another. She spoke of how great the dinner had been and how my mother and family had been so kind to her, and that she really missed her mom back in England and she hoped she could visit her soon. I told her I'd never been out of Florida, much less the United States, which made her gasp and say that I had to come with her and Harry if they ever got a chance to go home.

It was so effortless talking to Gemma, like she had been a longtime friend of mine. I held a conversation with her better than I ever did any of my old friends from high school, whom I had known for many years. She was much like her brother in that department--in almost every department, they were similar--and it was nice to have two people in my life I felt like I could tell anything to.

Somehow we'd talked for over half an hour, hardly noticing when people came in and out of the kitchen for seconds or a drink. The oven sounded, alarming me that the cake was done and I pulled it out, the smell of it lingering in the kitchen. Gemma breathed in, letting out a satisfied breath and acted like she fainted, which made me laugh.

"You should be a baker," she said. "Heaven's above, this smells delicious."

"Hope it tastes as good as it smells," I noted.

"It'd be hard to believe if it doesn't."

We chatted a bit more while the cake cooled, and I mixed up some fresh icing to go on top. Gemma went outside to announce that a cake had been made, and I'd never seen my family move faster. They lined up in the kitchen while I cut slices and set them on paper plates, then went on their way muttering through mouthfuls.

Harry had been a gentleman, letting everyone go ahead of him, but he licked his lips when it was his turn and held out his plate gladly. I had to stifle laughter at how much of a child he was acting, like his mother had just told him he ate a good dinner so he could have dessert. But then I couldn't even slice the cake because I was giggling to myself.

"Delilah, I know you're making fun of me, but I need this right now," he said desperately. "I've been too patient to be delayed any further."

"Okay, okay, you're right, you're right. Sorry, let me just..." I bit down on my bottom lip, but my cheeks were hurting from smiling. "You just... I just pictured a little boy and his mom telling him he had to eat all of his dinner before he could have cake. That's how excited you look."

"I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty excited."

Composing myself long enough to get his slice on his plate, I then noticed how much cake was actually gone. There were two, maybe three possible slices left. Everyone had gotten a piece, I'd realized, except me.

As if reading my mind, Harry got some on his fork and held it up. "Please," he said. "One bite."

I folded my arms across my chest. "You eat it. You wanted it."

He raised his eyebrows, like he was trying to be threatening. "I won't eat a single crumb until you've had a bite."

I threw my head back dramatically, groaning. But to appease him, and the grumbling in my stomach, I took the bite. He smiled triumphantly before getting a bite of his own, then giving me a thumbs up. I shook my head at him, chuckling. I had to admit, I'd outdone myself with the cake. However, my mind was disagreeing with my tastebuds. I tried to ignore it, but how could you ignore your own brain?

"You eat like a child, too," I commented, noting the mark of icing on his chin. He frowned, trying to use his tongue to clean it away but failed. I got a napkin, swiping the dab of icing off.

"Whatever would I do without you," he joked.

He had said it as a joke, but it genuinely made me think what I would do without him. Gemma's little speech came back to me, and I realized I needed to say it all now before I lost the nerve to do so. He was in the midst of putting the fork in his mouth with a big piece of cake on it when I grabbed his elbow, pulling him into the living room where no one else was. They had all filed back outside or milled in the kitchen.

He set his fork on his plate, then set his plate on the coffee table and gave me a confused look, yet somehow he seemed to know what was going on. Maybe he thought I wanted to continue the confrontation from earlier, and in a way I did, only this time I wanted to actually help solve it. To try and end this madness.

"You're right," I said. "I need to start being open with you because keeping everything to myself only makes it worse. But that's a big deal for me. I've never just been open with anyone, and especially not with Justin because he wouldn't have cared. And I know you care and I know you're really patient with me, and I don't want your patience to run thin because I don't want to lose you." I took in a breath, and he parted his lips to speak, but I kept going before he could. "I know I have a problem," I whispered. "I'll admit that now. And I don't want to have the problem anymore."

He didn't seem sure what to say at first, and he still didn't when he finally spoke. "I'm good with words and keeping promises. Words come easily to me, you know? So when I don't have any, I get frustrated. And just like earlier, right now I'm frustrated."

"What should I do?" I asked him, hoping that would help him out.

It did. "Honestly, you should probably get a therapist," he said gently, as if afraid I'd get angry. Deep down, I did, that part of me still wanting to deny that nothing was wrong. I tried to push the feeling even deeper until it was flattened out to nothing.

"Okay. I mean, I don't know how that'll help, but okay," I breathed, having to dig my nails into my thighs to keep myself from backing out.

He wrapped his arms around my neck, kissing my forehead before pulling me against his chest. I listened to his calm heartbeat and circled my arms around his torso. He was nearly a head taller than me, but I liked that because when he hugged me, he rested his head on mine and it made me feel invincible. Enfolded in security.

"You're taking a big step, Delilah. A good one," he said, giving me a little squeeze. "I'm proud of you."

I knew he was proud of me because I was doing this for myself and not for someone who didn't think I was good enough. He cared about my happiness, not my looks, and if anything that bit of knowledge filled me with more determination to be a better me.

(okay, so i was listening to alessia cara's new album--it's amazing, i highly recommend it--and one of the songs is called i'm yours--i attached it above if you want to have a listen--and i just think it fits delilah so freaking much. just wanted to throw that out there... that is all x)