CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Holden
Winter had finally broken, spring sweeping in to push buds out from the tree branches, a touch of color over what had been a bleak landscape when I’d buried my parents two years ago.
It was fitting that the day Delilah was laid to rest would bring warm sun and a comforting breeze, the snow having melted away as new grass blistered over the ground. Budding flowers touched the bushes that surrounded the cemetery, Michaela walking to my left while Deli stood in the distance.
No, the hallucinations hadn’t ceased entirely and I’d been honest with Michaela and my doctors that, at times, my sister still stared back at me despite having been gone for years. I didn’t acknowledge her openly. I didn’t believe she was actually there. But it was hard to ignore her when she called out to me, hard not to flinch at the sound of her voice begging me to promise her she wouldn’t be alone.
Perhaps seeing her so clearly was a consequence of my mind, the mental snapshots I’d always used to create my art now breathing life into a memory that was far too present and visible. I could only hope that burying her ashes beneath the ground would free me of the pain and sorrow that kept her tethered to me in the moments when my mind slipped across the veil from what was real to what was imagined.
Squeezing my hand, Michaela drew my attention in her direction. She didn’t have to speak to let me know she understood my sister was in view, she simply locked her eyes to mine in a show of encouragement that I would, one day, overcome. There was no room for doubt when it came to Michaela’s unwavering faith in me. She was cheerleader, support system and protector all in one - a woman so dedicated to the man she loved that she would become anything just to ensure I could reach the stars.
Her astute dedication wasn’t one-sided. I would fight for her as fiercely as she fought for me, our shared love not a relationship built on seeing to our own happiness, but to each other’s.
When you broke it down to the most basic part of the relationships that lasted despite the odds, you found two people looking out for the other’s needs, without having to worry for their own. She knew I watched her back, and I knew she watched mine, our perfect trust pushing us forward.
Where Michaela was weak, I was strong. And in the places where I fell down, Michaela was the person dragging me up again. And as long as neither of us ever lost sight of what was needed by the other, there would never come a time where one person failed while the other continued to move forward.
“Maybe she’s here to say goodbye,” Michaela whispered, our hands locked together as we approached the open grave. At the front, a preacher stood to lead the funeral, and to the side stood Dr. Silva and Angela, and a few friends that had been true to Deli in school. There weren’t many people who’d known her well. There weren’t many who were ready and willing to shirk the expectations of a town still mired in a refusal to accept the differences in others, but there were a few who cared enough to let go of past demands without caring what the town would think of them.
When I’d buried my parents, I’d stood alone. It felt right to have people with me now that it was time to bury Del beside them.
“Maybe,” I finally answered. “But if she’s just a figment of my imagination, there’s always a possibility she’ll never leave. Not fully.”
Michaela lifted my hand to place a soft kiss on my knuckles. “Of course, she’ll never be fully gone. She’ll always be in your heart. In your memories. In the places that matter. I like to think when we lose someone, they live on in the people who loved them. Parents live on in their children. Siblings live on in their families. Friends live on in the lives they touched, even if it was only briefly.”
We stopped walking before reaching the grave, Michaela turning to me before placing her palm against my cheek and directing my eyes down to her.
“Delilah lives on, Holden. Her legacy. Her memory. Her beauty, both inside and out. Just because she’s no longer physically here, it will never mean she’s truly gone.”
Leaning over, I kissed her softly. “Thank you.”
She grinned. “Now if you could only convince her to stop calling me small, perhaps we can just learn to live as one big, happy family.”
Her eyebrow arched and I laughed, the levity easing the sorrow.
After taking our places, the preacher went through the standard funeral dialogue, the words lost to me as my eyes continued to drift to where my sister stood in the distance. She didn’t appear to know she was attending her own funeral - but then a memory wouldn’t know, would it?
I’d chosen not to speak at the funeral, not to risk losing my composure in front of a group of people. It wasn’t that they’d judge me for the loss of control, but I still couldn’t find the right words that needed to be spoken.
As the funeral came to a close and a cool breeze blew past, Delilah’s eyes widened in the distance, her gaze no longer locked to me but something behind me. Turning as much as I could without drawing attention, I saw nothing that would have stolen her focus. Shaking my head, I inwardly chastised myself for even responding to the actions of a hallucination.
My eyes drifting back to the memory that wouldn’t leave, I watched as her lips pulled into a broad smile, the expression stretching her cheeks as pure radiance beamed from her eyes. My brows drew together, my jaw dropping as Deli opened her arms.
I almost dropped to my knees when my parents came into view, both embracing my sister before the three of them turned to look at me.
Tears were dripping from my eyes when Michaela’s voice broke through the hallucination. “Holden? Are you okay?”
Forcing myself to look away from the vision of my family, I glanced between the concerned expressions of Michaela, Angela and Dr. Silva. I hadn’t noticed that the funeral had ended, the other attendees walking off while the people who mattered the most remained nearby.
Without speaking, I lifted my gaze to look out to where Deli had been standing to see that she and my parents were waving goodbye. My legs weakened beneath me, three sets of hands locking to me to keep me from falling forward.
“Holden! Talk to me!”
Drawing a breath was damn near impossible.
My family faded as they walked away, my mouth falling open to whisper, “I - I think she’s gone.”
Dr. Silva’s deep voice sounded next. “Who’s gone? Holden? Are you seeing Delilah?”
Shaking my head, I cried as my mouth pulled into a smile I couldn’t help. “Not anymore, doc. At least, not at the moment. My parents just came and took her away.”
Michaela gasped, her hands locked to mine. When I finally turned to look at her face, I saw that she was crying.
Releasing her hold, I reached to wipe the tears for her cheeks. Pressing my forehead to hers, I whispered, “I think Delilah finally said goodbye.”
. . .
The back door of the moving van slid shut, Michaela dusting the dirt and grime from her hands as she turned to face me. Both our bodies were drenched in sweat, a black bandana tied around her head to hold her hair back and out of her face. “I think that’s the last of it. We should probably get a shower and get dressed or we’ll be late for the closing.”
Wiggling her brows, she stepped closer and tugged me to her by my shirt. “As soon as we have that fat check in hand, we’ll be heading to New York! Aren’t you excited?”
It had been two months since Deli’s funeral and I hadn’t seen or heard from her since watching her walk off with my parents in the cemetery. Dr. Silva credited the rehab and medications, but I still couldn’t stop wondering what had occurred that day. Glancing back at the house where I’d grown up, I was both excited and sad to leave it behind. “I’m happy we’re leaving, Michaela. Of course, but it’s just weird how much we’re getting for the place. The buyer paid three times the asking price.”
She wrapped her arm around my waist, ignoring the sweat that soaked my shirt. “Well, the houses around here are being bought and remodeled by developers. Maybe because yours wasn’t trashed by squatters, it’s worth more?”
“Doubtful. What developer would pay more than what I was asking? It’s not like they approached me.”
Her face tipped up at me. “Stop worrying about a good thing, Holden. Just accept that fate was kind for once. Race me to the shower?”
The wicked grin she wore forced a jolt of lust through my body. “Only if I get to wash every part of you.”
“Deal.”
Michaela took off at full speed, my steps heavy as I chased behind her. We spent a good hour beneath the spray of the water ensuring that every square inch of our bodies was clean. It was a mad dash to get dressed and make it to the closing on time, but the cheap car we’d worked long hours to purchase got us there with five minutes to spare before the closing started.
Practically running to the door, we burst inside, the receptionist looking up with astonishment as we barreled through the door.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “We didn’t want to be late.”
Staring at us from over the rim of her wire framed reading glasses, she smiled. “You must be Holden Bishop. The buyer and agent are waiting in the conference room already. Can I get you two something to drink before you join them?”
Shaking my head, I wanted to get the closing over with, return to the van I’d left at the house and start the long drive to New York. “No, we’re fine. We’ll just get this over with.”
Nodding, she extended a hand toward a closed set of doors. “The conference room is through there. Congratulations on the sale of your property.”
“Thanks,” I said, tugging Michaela toward the closed doors.
Opening the door, I stopped mid step to see who was seated on the other side of the table. My eyes narrowed on the stubborn woman, my heart thumping in my chest as a question tumbled over my lips. “Can I ask what the hell it is you’re doing here?”
Angela grinned, her hair pulled back in a bun and her black button down shirt struggling to remain fastened over her chest. “Buying a house? What the hell does it look like I’m doing?”
Michaela was notably silent at my side.
“Stepping in further, I closed the door behind me, held a seat for Michaela to sit before taking mine. My eyes never left Angela’s.
“I was under the impression a developer was purchasing the house for three times what it’s worth.”
Her grin stretched wider. “Yeah, well, you kids need a fresh start and I’m diving into the real estate business. It’s a win-win. Now shut up and sign on the dotted line.”
“Actually,” the older male agent said from where he sat beside her, “I believe that’s my line.”
Reaching across the table, the man with silver hair and a black suit offered his hand. “My name is Mark Holt. I’m Angela’s agent. You must be Mr. Bishop.” After shaking my hand, he shook Michaela’s, their introductions being made while I continued glaring at a woman who wore a shit eating grin.
Glancing away from her, I caught Mr. Holt’s gaze. “You’re a horrible agent. She’s buying the property for more than it’s worth.”
Laughter shook his chest. “Yes, well, I attempted to explain that to her, but my client is ridiculously stubborn. That being said, this closing should be short and sweet. I’ll need both your signatures where indicated on several documents and then we can call the transaction complete.”
It didn’t take long to sign the documents, and within a half hour, we’d said our goodbyes to the agent as we walked out of the building. Turning to Angela as soon as we were out of earshot of the agent, I said, “You shouldn’t have done that. We could have made the move with what I was asking for the house.”
Tears welled in her eyes, her attempt to hide them pathetic. “Yeah, I know. But I want you two to have the best start possible. And I can afford it. You’ve been through too much, Holden. You deserve a helping hand.”
Sorrow flooded me, the happiness of leaving Tranquil Falls mired by the regret of having to leave Angela behind. “We’ll come and visit every chance we can. And we’ll stay in touch.”
She swiped the tears from her eyes. “Damn right, you will. Just know if you try to keep from calling me, I’ll hunt you down.”
My lips were trembling, the emotion too much. Opening my arms, I pulled her into a tight hug. My cheek pressed to her head, I whispered, “I’ll miss you, Angela. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
Stepping out of the hug, she craned her neck to look up at me. “Just promise me you’ll do something good with it, Holden. That you won’t give up. You deserve more than you’ve been given so far. And I want an invitation to your first art show, you hear me? I’ll even dress nicely for your first big, fancy event.”
Nodding my head, I couldn’t speak around the lump in my throat. Angela turned to Michaela and the two women said their goodbyes, the tears flowing freely as they whispered back and forth.
It was difficult to walk away from a woman who had saved me after the accidents that had shattered my life, the same stubborn woman whose tenacity had been enough to pull me from the shadows and kick my ass back into the light.
But that’s how it goes when you’re moving forward. You never truly leave people behind even if you’ll rarely see them. I assumed this is what it felt like to leave the nest as a child turned adult. Whether leaving for college, or marriage or a job, you walk away toward a new horizon, knowing full well you left a piece of yourself back with the people who helped push you to a future they believed you deserved.
I was leaving a town that had done nothing but hurt me, but I was also leaving with a woman who loved me more than I had loved myself. A piece of my heart would always remain behind with a family buried beneath the earth, and with another kind of family that would always be in touch.
It was bittersweet to pass the diner on my way out of town. To pass the cemetery and the curve where the car accident with Jack had started the domino effect of an unfortunate life. But after leaving the town I’d wanted to escape for so long, I realized it wasn’t the locations of where I’d been and where I was going that mattered the most - it was the experiences that helped shape me, and the experiences that would come.
You can live your life regretting the misfortune you’d suffered, or you could do what I was doing now: Pick yourself up from the heaping piles of suffering, dust yourself off, and fight to continue living on.