Page 67 of All of You

“I’m so sorry,” I say over and over again.

Finally, Anna pries us apart. “You have nothing to be sorry about. And if there’s one thing to remember, it’s that you come from good genes. Your father gave his life trying to save an entire family.”

“And Mom didn’t know.”

She nods. “And your mom didn’t know. She was devastated when I told her. But Delia, she’ll be back. She needs time, but she’ll be back. She loves you so fiercely. She could never abandon you. And until then, I’m happy to play substitute mom when you need one.”

I sniffle back another sob and nod my head. “I’m a mess.”

“We’re all a mess. Some of us are just used to faking it until we make it,” she says. “I have to get a couple things done, but you don’t have to go home if you don’t want. You look tired.”

I rub my hands up and down my face. “That happens when I have an anxiety attack, but add in punching a girl in the face and a whole lot of emotional family stuff, and yeah… I feel like I could take a nap for a couple of years.”

“You had an anxiety attack today, too?” she says.

I nod. “Yeah, in class, giving a presentation. I panicked and ran from the class to the bathroom and that’s when Hailie came in.”

Anna lets out a sharp breath. “Here, put on a movie, lay down, and take a load off. You’ve earned it. I’ll call Heath and let him know we need a bit more time.” She hands me the remote.

I pull both my lips between my teeth to keep my tears at bay.I don’t think either one of us can take any more crying today. I toe off my shoes, curl up on the couch, and hunt for a good movie to watch.

Thirty Four

Langdon

She kissed me after punching Hailie in the face. And all I can think is, if we’re a train wreck I hope we burn slowly. She’s curled up on my couch when I get home from school and I nearly have a heart attack.

What is she doing here? Mom ushers me into the kitchen from the front door and fills me in on, well, a lot. When she mentions Olivia a pang of grief hits me solidly in the gut.

“Room for one more?” I ask from the side of the couch.

Delia lifts her head, looking groggy, but smiles. “What time is it?” she asks.

“Almost three. Why? Got someplace to be?”

She shakes her head and starts to make room for me. She looks wrecked. She looks like I did in the weeks after Olivia’s death.

“Wait…,” I say. I lift her head and scoot under her so she can stay lying down. “here.” She hesitates a second but then plops her head on my lap and a hand under my thigh. I can feel her icy fingers through my jeans.

“Your hands are freezing.”

She wiggles her fingers under my thigh. “That hand has been under frozen peas for a while.”

Ah, the offending hand. The someone-gave-Hailie-a-dose-of-her-own-medicine hand. I love that hand.

“What’re we watching?” I ask.

“Spaceballs.”

“What the hell is that?”

“I cannot believe you don’t know what Spaceballs is. It’s an old cult classic. It’s a right of passage Langdon.”

“Umm, sure it is.”

“Just shut up and watch it. You’ll like it.”

I don’t want to ruin the moment. Delia’s in my house, on my couch, head in my lap and I never want anything to change. There’s an empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. Mom’s been good to her, I see.

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