A Letter to Delilah

by Jaxson Kidman

  I shouldn’t have been there.

  I shouldn’t have put myself into this position.

  I wasn’t chasing down some hardened criminal.

  I wasn’t chasing down the biggest story of the decade.

  Hell, it wasn’t even the biggest story of the night. I was sure of that.

  All the words I felt like writing about him could have been posted online, but the opinion would have been biased, and I was sure that wouldn’t have gone over well.

  And the truth…

  I didn’t even want to be here.

  That’s why I went around back after leaving. To slip away into the night and be forgotten. Take everything I had with me and go home to write up something so cliché it would only serve to prove why I stopped writing a long time ago.

  The only thing I had was a note I found on the ground.

  This folded up piece of paper that was none of my business but had been just sitting there. The one corner slowly trying to unfold with the softest of a breeze.

  I picked it up and kept walking.

  I unfolded it to see if it was something important. Money. Credit Cards. Something with someone’s name, so I could return it. Or maybe I was hoping for a story. Something to save the night for me.

  As I turned the corner, I opened the piece of paper all the way.

  I saw handwriting.

  And it was very clear that this was an actual letter.

  To Delilah,

  No matter how hard I try to forget, each time I close my eyes, I see you. I see you standing in a blue dress at the top of a hill on a spring afternoon, surrounded by daisies. The way you reached down and gently touched them, not wanting to touch too hard. Your heart floated around you faster than the clouds that made the wind grab your hair.

  I looked up.

  This was… a love letter.

  Right?

  A love letter to someone named Delilah.

  I then had two choices.

  Put the letter back where I found it in case someone retraced their steps to find it.

  Or keep reading the letter.

  And find out what happened to Delilah.

  Chapter 2

  A Bridge to the Secrets

  NOW

  (Josh)

  I watched the sun climb from the horizon while the rest of the town seemed to be sleeping. From my apartment window, I watched as lights came on one by one. Those waking for work or for school, families coming back to life for another day of being a family. If I shut my eyes and imagined it, I could smell the coffee, bagels warming up, the smooth cream cheese, even a hint of peanut butter in the air.

  To my right was a blown-up photograph of a back alley. Dirty brick walls with a crooked ladder that was supposed to be a fire escape. A dumpster with one side of the lid propped open thanks to an old TV resting on top, filling it over the brim. My job was to take that photo and add my touch to it. Meaning just above the dumpster there was a window. Through that window was a clear blue sky. And at the top of the photo I added a pull chain light. The kind with a big, old bulb dangling from a twisted wire.

  It was part of my sleepless night.

  Getting that picture ready, along with several others.

  At the same time, there was another reason for my sleeplessness.

  I looked over my shoulder and grinned at the sight of the figure in my bed, curled up in my sheets.

  The sun had finally flooded through the entire apartment and I shuffled to the bathroom to grab a quick shower.

  By the time I was done and dressed, my bed was empty.

  She stood at the same window I had been standing at, wearing a black button-down shirt of mine and nothing else. I knew that because of the pile of clothes on the floor. My fingertips had been all over those clothes, along with the smoothness of her skin. Not to mention other places that would leave her blushing.

  “Morning,” I said.

  She turned, showing me that the shirt wasn’t buttoned at all. She wore it masterfully to keep her chest covered yet showed enough skin to keep my full attention.

  “No coffee?” she asked in an almost purring voice.

  “I can give you five bucks and tell you where to get some,” I said as I walked to the bed and sat down.

  I reached for my black boots and yawned.

  “Is that your gentle way of telling me to get out of here?”

  My hair fell in front of my face. I never liked it going beyond my eyes, but lately I had really lost the urge to care or worry about stuff like that.

  I ran a hand through my hair and looked back at her.

  “Shelly,” I whispered.

  “Michelle,” she corrected.

  “You didn’t mind me calling you Shelly last night. Or earlier this morning.”

  “I was a different person then,” Michelle said.

  “Yeah? Me too.”

  I stood up and Michelle walked toward me with the intention of getting right back into bed.

  She touched the scruff on my face and pouted her lips. “Fucking artists. The best in bed. The hardest to understand in the morning.”

  “You knew what you were getting into,” I whispered.

  “Yeah. I did.”

  I peeled her hand off my face and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  “When I get back, you’ll be gone?” I asked.

  “Of course,” she said. “But I’m keeping this shirt.”

  “Deal.”

  I turned and set my sights on the door.

  Michelle was comfort, not love.

  She knew it. Even when she tried to push the line a little.

  Women like Michelle thought I was heartless.

  Truth was, nobody knew what love really meant to me.

  I scribbled on a napkin as Aaron paced outside Joey’s Roast. He was in a heated conversation with someone and I wasn’t sure who I felt worse for. Served me right for showing up on time to meet him. Aaron had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We went all the way back to kindergarten when a kid named Scott made fun of his underwear and I punched Scott in the nose. I wasn’t allowed to go to school for a couple of days, but when I did get back, Scott was much quieter and Aaron brought me an extra snack from home as a thanks. When Aaron realized I had no snack with me, ever, he started bringing one every single day for me.

  Our friendship was built on chocolate pudding.

  And now it was sustained by him running a construction company even though he could barely use a hammer. He was book smart. Money smart. Geeky smart in a way that I never understood why he didn’t take off to some place like New York City, make tons of money and live a crazy life.

  I guess that answer came in the form of Rae and Toby.

  Rae was his girlfriend and Toby was his son.

  Aaron had always wanted to be a family man.

  I finished my little drawing on the napkin as two coffees were brought to the table.

  A pretty blonde girl slid them gently on the table “Here you go.”

  “Thanks, love,” I said and smiled at her.

  Her cheeks went a dark shade of red.

  “I think I know you,” she said.

  Ah, shit. Did I sleep with her?

  Maybe that wasn’t the proudest question to mentally ask myself, but whatever.

  “Do you now?” I asked.

  “You do those pictures and paintings together,” she said. “I’ve been to one of your shows.”

  “Did you buy something?”

  “No,” she said, her cheeks turning even redder.

  “Thanks for the support then,” I said with a wink.

  “I… I’m…”

  “I’m just playing,” I said. “Here, take this.”

  I handed her the napkin.

  It was a picture of a woman holding a heart like a newborn baby. A stupid scribble, but an idea in my head thanks to my surroundings.

  “Are you serious?” she asked. “I can have this?”

  “Sure. Why not? I would have
left it on the table anyway.”

  “Thanks. I guess.”

  “Not a fan of art?” I asked.

  The barista-slash-waitress laughed and tucked the napkin away.

  Aaron suddenly appeared like a stealthy ninja.

  “Thanks for bringing these,” Aaron said.

  “Of course,” the barista-slash-waitress said as she started to walk away.

  Aaron sat down and slipped a hand around his coffee. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “With what?”

  “Always trying to find love in the wrong places.”

  “That’s not trying to find love, brother,” I said with a grin. “You and I know that.”

  Aaron laughed. “You didn’t get her name, did you?”

  “Why would I? You know that’s a conversation for the next morning.”

  “You talk a tough game, Josh,” he said.

  “Just the truth.”

  “You ever think about settling down?”

  “I am settled. I’m doing what I want, when I want. Maybe not in the same way you are, but that’s what makes this friendship work. Did you want to meet me to bust my balls on my relationships?”

  “No,” Aaron said. “Just wanted to see if you were excited about the show, man.”

  “Excited?”

  “You know what I mean. It’s awesome. You really get to do this stuff.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do. Who were you talking to on the phone?”

  “That was Daniel. We got outbid on a project over on the Eastside. Bullshit stuff. I’ll work it out. I always do.”

  “Still such a dork,” I said.

  “Hey, we did this together,” he said. “You were the hands-on guy and I was the finance guy. We had a good run.”

  “You’re still having a good run,” I said.

  “And you’re more than welcome back anytime. Some of these projects could use your… how do I say this nicely… your asshole attitude.”

  “That was nice?”

  “That was really nice,” Aaron said.

  “How’s the kid?” I asked.

  “Oh, check this out,” he said as he dug for his cell phone.

  He was already smiling as he started to touch the screen.

  I was happy for him.

  He and Rae had been going through some rough stuff. Well, they were always going through rough stuff. Nothing came easy for them. The pregnancy was a surprise, but something they both wanted. They were told there was a high chance the pregnancy wouldn’t last and that’s when Aaron came to me. Crying his eyes out and brokenhearted that there was nothing he could do. It left me feeling helpless too. But Rae was a fighter and refused to listen to anyone. She was too stubborn to be with Aaron, but it somehow worked.

  When she gave birth to Toby, I told Aaron he’d better marry her, and soon, because there was nobody like Rae.

  Toby was about to turn two and they still weren’t married.

  “Here,” Aaron said.

  He spun his phone around and slid it toward me.

  I laughed so loud everyone looked at me.

  It was a picture of Aaron and Toby sitting at the dining room table. Toby had a giant paintbrush in his hand and looked like he had more paint on his body than the piece of paper in front of him. Toby smiled, looking like a mini Aaron, except for the eyes. They were super bright and super blue, just like Rae’s eyes.

  “He wanted to be like Uncle Josh,” Aaron said.

  “Cute kid,” I said. “Great picture, too.”

  “Yeah, I thought you’d like that.”

  The one thing about Aaron that was great was that the conversation could go anywhere, and it didn’t matter. Time moved right along when hanging out with him. And even in silence, it was perfectly okay.

  That’s what made a true best friend.

  When I finally stood up to pay, Aaron waved a hand.

  “No way, man,” he said. “This is your big day.”

  “Big day?” I asked. “Cut it out. It’s just another thing for me. That’s all.”

  “Come on,” he said. “You know how cool this is. You get to hang up all your stuff and let people look, talk and buy. You get to do exactly what you’ve always wanted to do, man. Tell me you at least enjoy it.”

  “Of course I enjoy it,” I said. “I just don’t let myself get too emotionally attached. Things don’t always go as planned. So at the very least, I’m going to buy you your coffee.”

  I reached into my back pocket for some cash.

  I felt something else there too.

  Something I sometimes forgot about.

  A letter I had written a while ago but never got rid of.

  “You okay?” Aaron asked me.

  “Yeah,” I said. I put the money on the table. “I’m good.”

  I walked toward the door and saw a mother sitting at a table with a baby on her lap. Her leg bounced as the baby stared at her with a drooling, toothless grin.

  I hurried down the sidewalk but made it only half a block before a hand grabbed my arm.

  When I turned, I was ready to throw a punch.

  But it was Aaron.

  “You can’t lie to me, man,” he said.

  “I’m not lying to anyone,” I said.

  “You can’t still think of her. You can’t still get upset about her.”

  There was one downside to having a best friend like Aaron.

  He sometimes knew exactly what I was thinking and what I was going through.

  I took the last drag of my cigarette as I stood on the bridge and looked down to the river. We used to dare each other to stand on the railing of the bridge. I was crazy enough to sit on the railing and drink. My feet dangling, knowing one little slip and the drop was going to suck. I wasn’t sure if the drop would kill me, but it would hurt.

  Today was different.

  I wasn’t at the bridge to relive stupid teenage decisions.

  After I flicked my cigarette off the bridge with a final puff of smoke, I reached into my back pocket and took out the letter. I clutched it tight in my hand for a few seconds before slowly opening it.

  To Delilah,

  I shut my eyes and folded the paper.

  It was a bad idea.

  Writing the letter was a horrible idea. Writing the letter didn’t do what it was supposed to do because I never got rid of it. Writing the letter sent me into the arms of Michelle for comfort, and that had been lasting a little too long for both of our own good. Now she had my shirt and I hoped I didn’t have a dusting of her heart.

  A quick flick of my wrist and the letter could fly off the bridge and down to the water. It’d be gone forever. Nobody would read the words or know what it all meant.

  Instead, I put the letter into my back pocket and lit up another cigarette.

  All my secrets were hidden in my art and never actually told.

  Chapter 3

  Break the Seal and the Secret

  NOW

  (Amelia)

  I smelled like a delicious garlic pesto sauce, but there was nothing delicious about it clinging to my skin and clothes. The ends of my curly hair looked frayed to death and my reflection in the rearview mirror reminded me that I needed a hot shower and something with alcohol in it.

  I’d maybe count my tips tomorrow and then figure out the rest of my money, bills and all that adult crap. It was supposed to be so much easier than this. But somewhere the idea of my dream and reality separated, and I wasn’t paying attention enough to realize it.

  Even still, I could have a career anywhere doing anything I wanted.

  But I hid.

  That was the truth.

  My plan had been to take a few months to figure things out. A few months turned into six months then six months turned into sharing an apartment with Grace. She was a life coach with an addiction to all things cats, except owning an actual cat. That was a whole other conversation though.

  When I got home, I climbed the set of stairs to the second floor as though it were
a mountain somewhere with below freezing temperatures, snow and wind.

  I opened the squeaky door on my floor and almost instantly, the door to my right opened.

  Apartment 15

  “Oh, Amelia, you gave me a heart attack,” Miss Laura said.

  She was short, round, had big glasses, and thought she was the security for the entire building. I swore she sat at her door with her ear pressed against it, desperate to hear a noise so she could come talk to someone.

  Lucky me, I guess.

  “Miss Laura,” I said. “It’s just me. Just getting home from-”

  "Did you see this?” she asked and pointed to her lip.

  There was a large bandage across the top corner of her lip. It was kind of impossible not to see.

  “I see,” I said.

  “Do you know what this is?”

  “No.”

  “Cancer.”

  “What?” I asked. I stepped toward her. “Are you serious?”

  “Well, I thought it was,” she said. “Talk about a scare.”

  “A scare.”

  “Yes,” she said, her brown eyes going very wide. “I had been watching that thing for months. Growing. Changing. Then I started feeling off. Different, you know? Something was very wrong here.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding, trying to plan my escape from this conversation from hell.

  “So, I called Dr. Williams. Do you know him?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, he’s the best,” Miss Laura said. She touched my arm. “You need to call him.”

  “For what?”

  “Anything!”

  “I feel fine. Thank you though.”

  “You just call. Tell him I said to call. He’ll appreciate it.”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  “So, I go see Dr. Williams. He says to me, ‘Oh, Laura, you’re crazy. But you’re smart. Most people wouldn’t notice or care.’ So how about that, Amelia? A doctor thinking I’m smart?”

  “That’s really something,” I said. “I mean, you are observant.”

  “Oh, stop,” Miss Laura said with a laugh. “You’re just buttering me up for some of my famous oatmeal cookies.”