I applied to every teaching job I could find in nearby states, desperate for a way out. That’s how I found the opening here in Canyon Creek, buried on some job website. It was far from home, but I needed toget away. California had nothing but ghosts and heartache. I had nothing and no one but myself.
When I got the job after a phone interview with Mrs. Abbott, I packed what I could fit, picked up my new old car, and drove here with barely anything in my bank account.
Thankfully, Rose’s daughter had listed the studio online just days before I left. If she hadn’t, I would’ve slept at a hotel until I found a place to live. I was so desperate to leave, I would’ve slept in my car if I had to. My final goodbye to Daniel was leaving the lacy white thong—or the remains of it, on the kitchen counter, right next to my apartment keys and credit cards.
Yes I burned it.
It was very cathartic.
Shaking myself out of the awful memories, I pull myself back into the present. I lay out the blanket we brought to the pond, and Delilah hurls her backpack onto it, unzipping it and unceremoniously dumping its contents out. I unpack our lunch as well, spreading out the turkey sandwiches, sliced strawberries and yogurt tubes.
“Where do you live?” Delilah asks as she starts making quick work of her yogurt tube, her curiosity never slowing.
“In town, in an apartment,” I reply before taking a bite of my sandwich.
“Alone?” Her eyes bug out of her head, like the idea of an adult living alone is horrifying.
“Kind of,” I say with a laugh. “But I live right next to my friend Rose. She rents the apartment to me. You’d like her. She’s cool like you.”
I grin around another bite, and she smiles right back.
Wes buys the real deli turkey. Like, when they put the chunk of meat on the slicer and shave it right there in front of you. It's delicious and way better than the uniform, paper thin slices I get from the cooler section. This is a flex he doesn’t even know he has. This shit isn’t cheap.
God, do I think it’s hot he buys premium cold cuts? Get a grip, Ivy.
“Can I meet her soon?” Delilah asks, snapping me out of my deli induced daydreams.
“Sure, if your dad’s okay with it.” I smile at her, watching her as she inhales her food. For some odd reason, it gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling seeing her devour her sandwich.
“I thought you were going to live with us, cause Daddy bought that stuff for your new room when you stay with me when he works late,” Delilah says, stuttering over her sentence.
I feel the lines form between my brows. “I don’t think that stuff was for me, babe. It was already in there when you first showed me the room, remember?”
The guest room is nice, if not a little bare. It’s just meant for me to sleep in, so it really only needs the bed that was already in there. The ensuite is nice and basic, with a decent sized walk-in shower, sink and toilet. It’s nothing fancy, but clean and spacious. Theroom was practically empty compared to the rest of the house, but that’s fine with me.
The rest of Wes and Delilah’s home has that warm, inviting, cozy feeling. Dark hardwood floors run throughout, with a deep brown leather sectional that looks lived in and covered with throw pillows and blankets. Persian style rugs adorn the entryway, living room, and hall. Plants are everywhere, filling corners and windowsills, and Delilah’s toys are tucked away here and there. There’s framed family photos, and crayon masterpieces hanging on the walls. It looks lived-in. It looks like love.
Ilove it.
“No,” Delilah says, shaking her head. “After you left, we bought stuff at the store so you can be more comfy when you sleep here.”
I let out a low hum and nod at her, not wanting to show my shock or my currently short-circuiting brain. Shock might be an understatement. I haven’t stepped foot in the guest bedroom since Wes and Delilah gave me a tour, but I’m suddenly fighting the urge to grab Delilah and run as fast as I can back to the house to see what “comfy stuff” he allegedly bought for me.
The Wes I’ve interacted with all week doesn’t seem like the guy to go out of his way and decorate the guest room just forme. I can’t help but wonder if Delilah is mistaken.
After lunch, we dig around the pond in search of worms. Delilah finds seven, I find four. We name them all, naturally, then safely return them to the ground and bury them back under the dirt.
Once everything is packed up, we start our trek back to the house. I let my eyes take in the land, the trees gently swaying around us, and can't help but marvel at the view. A small lump catches in the back of my throat as the thought hits me like a ton of bricks.
My parents would’ve loved it here.
Are you guys seeing this?I think to myself, closing my eyes and breathing in a lungful of the pine and earth scented breeze.
A small gust of wind picks up, blowing mine and Delilah’s hair around in what I justknowis a response. I squeeze Delilah’s hand in mine, and with the wind at our backs, we walk home. And I feel like maybe, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
————
I glance over at the clock and see that it’s just after five, so Wes should be home any minute. My new sidekick and I are at the kitchen table, elbows deep in Play-Doh. I’m basically only here to make the snakes Delilah requests and open the colors she wants.
