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Forty-Six
DELILAH
It was the perfect situation, and one I’d dreamt of for several months now. Me, lying quietly in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Snuggled warmly by Rory on my left side, and Luke on my right.
Mmmm…
My little niece and nephew slumbered deeply, as children who played hard all day are wont to do. We’d stayed up late these past few nights, watching Disney and eating popcorn. Pretty much playing and having fun in all the rooms of the new guest house at the edge of the property, as they joined me for the mother of all adorable sleepovers.
Damn. I’d doanythingfor this.
It hadn’t surprised me that my sister’s home was beautiful, or that she and her husband were doing so well. What shocked me was that they’d built this place with me in mind. Without eventellingme they had me in mind when they built it.
That part wasn’t fair. Neither was springing this place on me, especially so wonderfully designed and decorated. Yes, it was only a guest house. And yes, it was a little too close to family — being on my sister’s property and all that. But it was also painfully close to Rory and Luke. If I were to actually live here, I could wake up and have breakfast with them every single day.
Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?
I mean yes… but also no. Sure there was a part of me that would’ve given up anything to bethatclose to these kids. But there was also a part of me that wanted a life of my own. A place of my own. And yes, ultimately children of my own, too.
“Of course it wouldn’t be forever,” Patrice had said earlier, while trying to convince me, “just until you got on your feet. But you could stay as long as you liked. Maybe until you landed a solid job, and saved up for an apartment of your own.”
It sounded good in theory. Especially since I’d neverhada place that was all my own.
“And you’d get to see the children too!” Patrice had said. “As much or as little as you wanted.”
I thought back to a few months ago, when we’d parted ways on Long Island. It had been painful letting go of Rory and Luke, especially after all the time we’d spent together. But this would fix all that. It would make it so that I could see them literally whenever I needed to.
Hell, I’d be right in their backyard!
At the same time though, I wondered if it were healthy. Taking them to the park once a week or to places like the aquarium every couple of months was all well and good, but maybe those trips would lose their luster if I actually lived on the premises. There would be nothing shiny and new about seeing aunt Delilah if you happened to see her each and every day, dragging her tired ass back and forth through the backyard.
And then, of course there were two other babies to consider.
Courtney and Jace were just warming up to me, and I’d been a tremendous part of their daily routines. I loved their little faces, their little noses, their hands, their feet! I loved the noises they made and the giggles they giggled and everything else about them, including all the old memories they brought up of doing the same types of things with Rory and Luke.
They needed me. Theylovedme! Possibly even like a mother, because I was the only motherly figure they had. In the end, could I really abandon them? Just fly away and never come back, with the images of their chubby fists opening and closing as they waved goodbye to me at JFK?
No, never!
And then there was the biggest decision of all: Liam. Duncan. Julius. They were three men I cared about, dated, even loved. Over the past few days I’d been shoving my feelings for these men to the back of my mind, in order to focus on my niece and nephew. But how long could I really do that, without going crazy?
I’d talked to the guys twice, and told them I was having a fun time. They’d been happy and supportive, even as they told me how much they missed me. But would they be happy and supportive of me leaving for good? And more importantly, could I be happy without them — and the twins — in my life?
Slowly I rose, being careful not to disturb the kids. They were so much older now, I realized. They slept more soundly. It was easy for me to pad across the floor of the guest cottage — and that’s really what it was, a magical little cottage — and peer through the moonlit windows into my sister’s yard.
It was beautiful here, the neighborhood quiet and magical. It was the perfect place to save up and get a place of my own — maybe start fresh in an all new city, an all new state. I was the last of my family still left in New York. When you looked at it in that respect, there was nothing for me there now.
Except that there is.
A few months ago, this decision would’ve been a no-brainer. I was missing Patrice, and John, and the kids terribly. Something like this would’ve been the sum total of everything I ever thought I’d need.
Only now… now I knew exactly what I wanted. It wasn’t someone else’s yard, or someone else’s house, or even my niece and nephew, as beautiful and wonderful as they both were.
I wanted a life of myown.
