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“So I stepped in. Anne too, now. Kind of grandparents. I tried as hard as I could to be their father as well. Anne, she watched the girls while Darla worked. Darla didn’t have no skills, not any great ones. But she could wait tables or work a cash register. We’d have the girls and see ’em off to school and get ’em when they came home. Feed ’em.
“Belinda graduated school with honors and got picked up by the Naval Academy. She’s off on some huge boat somewheres now. I think she’s a Lieutenant Commander. She missed her father’s bullshit responsibility gene. Good for her.
“Delilah was so precious. She was more into the popularity in school than her sister was. Delilah was there every mornin’ ’cuz it was social hour. She had a lot of friends. But you know how that works after high school. All your buddies peel away the day after graduation. Delilah squeaked by. She needed night school for a math class her senior year but she took it, passed it. Graduated.
“She bounced around for ’bout year, came in and out of our lives. Each visit was a snapshot. I could see she was maybe learnin’ the wrong things with every drop-in. Every snapshot was somethin’ a little concerning. Not so wrong that she was gonna be some hardened dope dealer or nothin’, just livin’ life a little fast is all. She was older than she should have been. We were sad.
“You know the type of thing. Bad boyfriends. Late nights. Maybe came to drunk a time or two wonderin’ what happened to the night. Probably smoked grass. She got her father’s bullshit responsibility gene.
“But then one day clear out of the blue she shows up. Says she’s been through the ringer and now she wants what Belinda’s got. Education. Career. Turning over a new leaf. Fresh start-kinda thing. Said she heard some commercial on the radio from a school sayin’ they’d teach you that IT stuff. In demand here in the city. In demand everywhere I suppose. I got my dad’s auto shop when he passed away—stroke—when I was in my twenties. I never stepped foot in no college but she wanted to in a bad way.
“I asked her ’bout scholarships and loans and all that. She said her credit was shit. Belinda told her there was no way the Navy Academy would take her but she could join up as a swabbie and get some education benefits. Delilah didn’t want to be a squid. If you ask me she just didn’t want to be in the military. Too much discipline. Strict rules, responsibility. She was bad about it. She’d have to wait her four years and then go to IT school. She never wanted to wait for nothin’.
“So, in the end, I gave her tuition money. I did with all my children. She was no different. I woulda done it for Belinda too, but the Navy beat me to it.
“I set up a plan with Delilah, an agreement. The IT school was a four-year degree from college, it wasn’t nothin’ specialized. No tech college. She didn’t want that either. She wanted a degree. Somethin’ her mom never had. But, bless her heart; Darla Boothe always would complain her employment choices and troubles were rooted in the fact that she didn’t have a degree. Benjamin did. Piece of shit.
“Delilah must have figured she could avoid those same problems with education. So our agreement stated she spend two continuous, full-load years at a community college. Then two years at the university over in Dunkirk getting her IT degree. And by God she buckled down. Must have drained every ounce of hard work and good judgment from her.
“She worked nights four days a week waiting tables at some chain restaurant in the suburbs. Lived with her mother. Cut her bills down to the bare minimum.
“She struggled, made C’s in everything mostly. Some B’s. Had a steady boyfriend by the name of Ted something for two years before she found out he had a steady girlfriend at his job and a third one over in his home town about two hours away.
“Got her degree from the university and Anne and I were never so proud. Our own kids did their accomplishments; we loved them and cheered them on. It just seemed Delilah had more adversity to tackle. I’d be lyin’ if I didn’t say we were proud even more because she was—let’s face it—a financial risk and we had our necks out.
“Right away she got a good job downtown. Some medical company.”
Mr. Derne huffs the kind of sigh an old pack mule will the moment it knows its heart is exploding. Giving it up.
“And then it started spiraling down.
“She saw a house over on Carolina, near Mason Avenue. For sale, nice older couple. Moving to a retirement pad. She just loved it. Not too big. Well-kept. I had no idea Delilah was even entertaining buying a house. She was sneakin’ Anne and I a few bucks here and there to pay us back for the education costs. I didn’t care myself—I never made Elam Jr., Tommy or Angela pay us back—but Delilah insisted. So we set it aside for her. She didn’t know.
“And Delilah wanted the house so bad. She could afford it too; but her credit was ruined worse than she ever told us by those years between high school and college. Apparently she got in a few of those triangle pyramid schemes—whatever—and took a bath. She got behind on her credit cards, floated checks, bounced checks, you know the deal. Took a bath. And another bath. And another bath.
“Well, that’s not wholly correct. Banks will lend to anybody these days so she could buy the place but the APR, closing costs, all that. She couldn’t afford all of it. Not with her blighted credit and non-existent bank account.
“Anyways, she asked for help.
“We bought the house for her. She paid me for the mortgage, insurance, all of it. I paid the companies. It didn’t help her credit, but we talked about credit cards, a car loan, that sort of thing. Steady payments, all that. Delilah started trying to be responsible.
“Then, she met Pierce White. Rat bastard. Some senior client rep over at the medical company. He was married, of course. Two kids. Naturally they start an affair. They couldn’t control themselves in the office and gossip started. They get asked about it; they say they were dating. The company’s image came first. I guess every employee of that place signs some agreement sayin’ if they have an office romance it’s gotta be disclosed, yada yada yada. People cheatin’ on spouses in office romances will not be tolerated.
“Pierce and Delilah got fired. Pierce had to go home and explain to his wife. His kids. Delilah broke up with him. She said he was flamin’ pissed off about losin’ his job. Called her somethin’ horrible like a sport fuck and Delilah said she felt so trashy and used, she just stayed depressed for months. Come to really think of it, I believe all this started goin’ really downhill then.
“Delilah went through the rigmarole of life: woke up, eventually got out of bed. Smoked a cigarette for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Drank coffee. Missed a few months’ worth of bills. Interviewed at another place for half the money. Got hired on.
“Then she met James Dobbins. Married, no kids. His wife, however, was a great white shark. Jesus, what a bitch. Delilah started seein’ this guy. It was a short romance before they both got fired but I’ll give it this: she started eating again. She wore make-up. Dressed in something other than sweat pants. You never knew she was so low until you seen her out of it.
“Anyways, she says they got caught kissin’ in a break room or somethin’—she didn’t wanna talk about it—and for whatever reason it was against the rules and she was canned. Dobbins too. He flipped out. His shark-wife took him for a ride in divorce court. I guess as soon as he told her what happened she was in a lawyer’s office. Fast-tracked his ass to the poor house.
“This was a little over a year ago. Delilah hadn’t made a payment on the house since. Anne and I moved into a new place about three years ago and while I can do some extra every month, I don’t have the bones to pay two mortgages. I kept tellin’ Delilah this but she never...never got back on her feet. Decide
d to rot in that house. Throwin’ parties, wakin’ the neighbors. Botherin’ the cops. They’d get called there so often they looked the property owner. Found me.
“I got calls at work and home. The cops thought it was a rental property. Finally I said to Delilah: Look, you’ve got to get a job and get back payin’ for this house. I don’t care if you wait tables, if you paint buildings or if you drive a semi through the Rockies. Get back on your feet. Or else...or else you’re out.
“I hated putting the ultimatum out there, but I had to. It was hard. No way would she dare to lose the house. But I’ll be damned. She called my bluff. I guess it’s fair to say she’s not used to hearing no and having it be firm. Real. She always gets more chances.
