How Sweet It Is
Page 10
When she was all set, she hesitated, unsure if she was ready to face everyone just yet. Her gaze was drawn to the stuffed bunny. Delphine walked over and looked at it more closely. The long-pile fur was worn in spots and the eyes were knots of frayed thread where button eyes must’ve been. It wore a faded calico dress with antique lace.
Unable to stop herself, she picked it up and buried her face in the soft toy. She closed her eyes and inhaled the faint hint of fabric softener. Somewhere downstairs, the sound of a door closing made her jump. She quickly put the bunny back and took a shuddering breath.
Knowing she couldn’t avoid the inevitable, Delphine opened the bedroom door and peered down the sage-green carpet runner lining the wood-floored length of the hall. One end of the hall opened up toward a landing. She followed that direction and came to the top of the staircase. She heard muted voices as she descended the stairs.
At the bottom step, Delphine paused. She saw Brad leaning against the wall with his back to her, at the entrance of the living room. As if sensing her presence, he twisted around.
Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw his expression. Brad no longer wore his perpetual grin. New lines etched the edges of his mouth. His eyes were a deep, solemn blue. He walked up to her and took her in his arms, murmuring words of solace.
Delphine savored his nearness, his solid strength.
Brad stepped back and looked at her. “I was so worried about you, Delphine. How’s your head?”
She reached up to touch the tender spot on her forehead. “I…I noticed a bruise this morning.”
“You don’t remember?”
She shook her head.
“Last night you fainted, hitting your head on the table. I felt terrible. I should’ve caught you, but I wasn’t fast enough.” He touched her shoulder. “I guess I’m not much good in an emergency.”
Delphine lowered her hand. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
Before Brad answered, his mother came into the room and hugged her. “Delphine,” she said in a soothing tone, “please join us for lunch.”
She pushed her hands into her pockets. “Oh, thank you, but I couldn’t possibly eat.”
“Nonsense,” she said, putting a hand on her arm and drawing her into the dining room. “Your mother is in the kitchen waiting for you.”
As Mrs. Larsen led her away, Delphine shot a glance over her shoulder at Brad. He gave her a worried look and followed.
Clarice stood at their entrance. She kissed Delphine’s cheeks before returning to her seat. She looked pale, but composed. Giving her mother a wan smile, Delphine joined her at the table. Brad sat next to her while Mrs. Larsen bustled about the kitchen.
She sensed Brad’s quiet gaze upon her, yet she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Somewhere in the knowledge that her father was gone lurked a residual shame for her ridiculous behavior at the shop.
Mrs. Larsen soon served a steaming quiche from the oven, along with fresh fruits and a melon salad. Brad said a prayer for the food and for the D’Arleux family’s comfort. At his words, Delphine felt a fresh lump rising in her throat. She stared down at her plate as black waves of sadness washed over her.
Brad looked over at Delphine before glancing at his mother. She sent him back a look confirming her own worries about her. He stifled a sigh and silently prayed for wisdom. How could he help? He’d never seen Delphine so stricken, so bowed down before. Having never lost anyone close to him, Brad felt unsure how to comfort her.
Another peek at her rigid form made him wonder if she’d accept any real comfort from him. Her confession of love, followed by words they’d exchanged at the shop the night before troubled him.
He reached under the table and took her hand. Her fingers felt like ice. Delphine didn’t look up at his touch but weakly squeezed his hand in response.
Brad held onto her tightly, hoping to impart some warmth, hoping that even though she seemed a million miles away, this tenuous link that connected them might be strong enough to withstand the days ahead.
After mostly pushing onion quiche around on her plate, Delphine tried very hard to listen to what her mother said about funeral arrangements. She answered in monosyllables, just wanting the whole ordeal over with. Her father was gone. Nothing could change that.
For once, Delphine just couldn’t be strong. She was thankful when her mother and Mrs. Larsen appeared to be handling all the details. She didn’t want to think about the here and now, much less the future. Where she’d find the money for the arrangements she had no clue.
She experienced a stab of guilt at the thought. Now wasn’t the time to worry over finances. Delphine could only hope that somehow God would provide. She held onto Brad’s hand, so thankful for his touch.
After breakfast, her mother and Mrs. Larsen left the house to handle the funeral preparations. Delphine begged off, only wanting respite in sleep. While Brad cleared the table, she slipped up to the yellow bedroom.
Avoiding looking at the stuffed bunny, she stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes. Images from the night before whirled around in her brain, renewing the sharp edges of grief. Delphine rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, as tears dripped into her ears.
Sleep eluded her. She got up and paced around the room, rubbing her arms to banish the cold, despite the balminess of the day. Finally, she admitted to herself she wanted to be with Brad. She made her way down the stairs, only to find the house empty.
Stifling a stab of disappointment, Delphine wandered through the main floor of the house, pausing to look at framed family photos on the wall. Seeing Brad as a small child squeezed her heart. It reminded her of his sweet, endearing qualities, along with the fact that she’d treated him badly at the shop.
As she turned to make her way upstairs, Delphine caught sight of him walking in the backyard. She made a move to join him, then feeling unsure of herself, decided against it. She trudged up the stairs, grabbed the rabbit and went to sleep with it in her arms.
****
Dark shadows filled the room when Delphine next awoke. She propped herself up one elbow and rubbed her eyes. Switching on the bedside lamp, she saw the time was after midnight, making her wonder if her lunch had been spiked with a sleep aid. She couldn’t remember ever sleeping so much in her life.
Her dreams had been filled with images of her father. Memories, good, and painful, shimmered in her mind and renewed the ache in her heart. Fresh tears filled her eyes. She sent up a silent prayer for her mother. Delphine realized she’d been neglecting her. Now it was too late at night to be of any use. Everyone had probably gone to bed.
Tossing back the light blanket, she got up from the bed and stretched a little. She picked up the bunny, intending to return it to the chair, and noticed the little dress was wet from her tears. Embarrassment at holding it while she slept made her quickly replace it.
Her stomach rumbled. Delphine felt impatient with her physical needs. How could her body be so demanding in light of such a crisis? Hunger seemed so mundane. But that hunger drove her to head downstairs.
In the kitchen she found a fruit basket on the gleaming tile countertop. Hoping it wasn’t for display only, she took an apple and bit into it. She stared at the dark neighborhood through the kitchen window. Once Delphine finished the apple, she was still hungry, but couldn’t find the confidence to go searching through someone else’s cupboards or refrigerator.
Tossing the apple core into the trash can under the sink, she rubbed her hands on her arms, feeling strung up, edgy, and lonely. Delphine took silent steps to the den, hoping to find a book to take her mind off her grief. Instead she found Brad, sprawled on the couch asleep, his head lolled to one side.
She paused to watch him for a moment. He’d changed from the more formal clothes she’d seen him in earlier into his ubiquitous faded jeans and tropical shirt. She wondered why he hadn’t gone to bed. He’d probably dozed when watching TV—except the TV wasn’t on.
The room s
at in darkness, aside for some slight illumination coming through the drapes from the pool lights. As much as she desired to seek him out, she knew she couldn’t disturb him. She turned to go.
“Wait,” said a groggy voice.
Delphine started at the sound. Turning back, she saw Brad struggling upright, blinking sleepily. He patted the cushions. “Come here.”
Heart hammering, she crossed the room and perched on the couch next to him. He studied her from under heavy lids, and for a moment, she wondered if he was going to fall back asleep.
He scooted toward her until they were touching, and slung his arm along the back of the couch. Delphine angled her head so she could face him.
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” she whispered.
Brad yawned and shook his head. “No problem. I’m glad to see you up and around.” His gaze swept across her face. “How are you feeling?”
She shrugged, the action sapping her depleted strength. “Okay, I guess. What else can I say? I can’t do anything to change what happened. I just have to try to cope.”
Although his face was shadowed, she could feel his concern for her somehow emanating from him.
“We missed you at dinner. Are you hungry? My mom tried to wake you up, but you were out.”
“I’m okay. I ate an apple from the kitchen.”
“You should’ve checked the fridge. My mom has a plate made up for you. All you need to do is pop it in the microwave.”
Moisture burned her eyes. “You and your family have been so kind. I can never repay—”
Brad held up a hand, a frown settling on his brow. “Don’t even say it. People help people. You need to accept it without guilt or argument, okay?”
Lowering her eyes, she traced the pattern on the arm of the couch. “I…I want to apologize for my behavior at the shop. I don’t quite know what got into me.”
Brad reached over and took her hand in his. His grip felt warm and reassuring; his voice, forgiving. “Don’t worry about it. I think you were just totally stressed out.”
“I’m so sorry for doubting your friendship.” She looked up at him, wishing she could read his mind. “And I said some terrible things.”
He ran his thumb lightly over her knuckles. “What did you call me? In French, I mean.”
Delphine let out a little groan. “Do I have to tell you? You won’t like it.”
“I’ve been called a lot of things in my day. It’ll be interesting to hear your version.” He tugged on her hand. “Well?”
“Um, I think it was something like scoundrel and oaf.” She felt herself color up under his gaze.
Brad raised a brow. “You wound me, Delphine.”
“I did apologize,” she pointed out, feeling a small lift of spirits at his gentle teasing.
“I think more than an apology is in order. Those are some pretty strong words, and let me tell you, they sound a lot worse in French.” He leaned his head close. “Shall we kiss and make up?”
Delphine’s smile faded. All her insecurities about him came rushing back. “I—”
Brad let out a ragged sigh and shook his head. “Now it’s my turn to apologize. I don’t think I could be more insensitive. I’m so sorry.”
The true contrition of his tone erased her reservations—at least for the moment. She only wanted to be in his arms, to have his embrace assuage her raw and frayed emotions. Delphine brushed the side of his face with shaking fingers. The moment she touched her lips to his, some of the turmoil in her heart eased. Brad’s arms slid around her and held her tight.
Delphine pressed her face into the hollow of his shoulder, realizing she’d never felt so sheltered, so cherished before.
And it was addictive. A part of her thanked God for this experience, another part braced for the inevitable moment when it would end.
Brad pulled back a little and nudged her chin up with his hand. His gaze seemed serious and tender at the same time. “I don’t know if this is the right time to say this, but I want you to know that I love you, too.”
Her eyes widened, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird within her. After all that’s happened? Impossible! When she started to speak, he interrupted her.
“You didn’t give me a chance to tell you when we were at the shop.”
Delphine swallowed, unable to believe what she was hearing. “But, I thought—”
Brad caressed her cheek with his knuckle. “I know what you thought. I didn’t respond right away because I couldn’t believe you said it.” His mouth tipped in a sheepish grin. “I was pretty sure you liked me, but even my ego isn’t so big that I could assume more than that.”
He inclined his head, his gaze serious. “And just to make sure you understand, I’ll say it again. I love you, Delphine.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks. From the hell of losing her father, to the heaven of Brad’s words, Delphine’s heart and mind tilted in a dizzy whirl. She leaned close and pressed her lips against his, allowing for the moment, the honeyed sensations of his kiss to sweep away all that was dark and bitter in her world.
Eleven
At the reception following her father’s funeral and internment, Delphine leaned into Brad’s side. When his arm tightened around her waist, she sent him a grateful smile. The look in his blue eyes reaffirmed his words of love. How she would’ve made it through the past few days without him, she didn’t know.
The funeral had been a simple affair, held where her parents had married twenty-five years earlier. The church was constructed of mellow, golden stone and an abundance of stained glass windows. The reception hall, lined with oak paneling and edged with hall tables, sported vases of fragrant flowers. Brocade upholstered chairs, mostly empty, save for a few neighbors, dotted the room. A long table at one end of the room held several trays of finger foods. Ornate brass floor lamps with amber glass shades illuminated the area in a soothing glow.
Delphine wished her parents had been more committed to fellowshipping with other worshippers. Perhaps they could’ve been guided to make better decisions throughout their lives.
She bit her lip, inwardly chastising herself for her critical attitude, yet frustrated at the lingering sense of resentment she felt for her upbringing. She reminded herself that for all their faults, her parents were congenial, loving people. Besides, who was she to be critical of others when she had her own issues?
The thought made her think about her spiritual condition. She read her Bible and prayed, though more in anxiousness than in praise. And wasn’t she following in their footsteps with her own sporadic church attendance? What negative patterns in her life developed because she struggled along on her own without the support of a church family?
Delphine decided she’d attend with Brad the following Sunday. With the decision came renewed worry that again she was relying too much on the Larsens.
Stifling a weary sigh, she tugged on Brad’s hand and approached where her mother stood rattling away in French to her sister, Josephine Du Bois who had flown in for the funeral. It was the first time Delphine had met her aunt.
Josephine and her sister were similar in size, but where her mother tended toward frailty and flightiness, her aunt appeared a grim and staunch lady. Delphine knew she’d never approved of her sister marrying and staying in America.
Clarice turned to Delphine, her dark eyes glittering with a hectic light. “Ma chèrie, my sister has offered to take me back home to France. I have decided to accept.”
Delphine felt the air leave her lungs in a sudden rush. She struggled to form coherent words. Brad squeezed her hand.
“Maman, what is this? You’re not leaving?”
Clarice lifted her shoulders in a Gallic shrug. “I have been too long from my homeland. And Josephine is a retired nurse so you may be easy about my health.”
Delphine glanced at the stern visage of Mme. DuBois and shuddered to think of having the woman as a nurse in a hospital. She sighed inwardly, trying to absorb the implications of her mother’s words.
Clarice pressed her hands together. “I shall see the Loire Valley, the rivers, and chateaus…” She dabbed delicately at her eyes with a handkerchief pulled from her pocket. “Beside, with my Leone gone, there is nothing here for me now.”
The words hit Delphine like a blow to the mid-section, leaving her dazed and sore, and hardly able to believe she heard her mother right. Brad put his arm around her.
“Excuse me, Maman, Aunt,” she said faintly, allowing him to lead her away.
Across the room, Delphine pressed her hands against her cheeks, blinking the tears away. “I know she didn’t mean it the way it sounded,” she whispered. She glanced up at him, hoping for affirmation.
Brad’s dark brows had settled low over his eyes, his lips compressed in a firm line. She sighed, wishing he hadn’t witnessed her mortification.
“You okay?” he whispered.
When she nodded, he drew her hand to his lips and sent her a sympathetic smile.
Delphine studied his face, wondering what he really thought of her and her family. Her mother had earlier whispered in her ear that the Larsens had graciously covered the expenses of the funeral. Instead of being thankful, Delphine felt an even greater weight of despair. Brad could airily tell her to stop worrying about money, but she’d learned early in life to despise the lack of it.
Soon the reception ended, and Delphine left with Brad’s family, her heart full of anguish at having to say good-bye to her father for the last time.
****
At the Larsen’s home afterwards, Delphine hugged Mrs. Larsen and thanked her for everything. She shook Mr. Larsen’s hand, unable to stifle a feeling of dread at that awful debt she owed him. Brad then drove her, her mother, and aunt over to the apartment.