Desiring Dylan - Suzanne Jenkins Page 0,14
car.”
“If you want cheesesteaks, I can order them for us. Come in! I’m so happy you’re here. I was settling in for a long boohoo.”
“I had a feeling you might be getting it full force today. Like second-day onset. After the funeral, after the sympathizers go back to their lives. It’s difficult.”
“The key, girly, is to reach out. Don’t be sufferin’ out here in the burbs when you got a ton of friends in the city.”
“Charlie, this is not exactly the burbs,” Calista said. “It’s still Philly.”
“Papa, it’s weird, but I don’t want to hear from them. I don’t want to share my pain, either. It’s too intimate.”
“She’s right, Charlie. Sometimes it’s safer to hide with momma and papa.”
“Do you like coming here, Pop?” Landon asked, handing them cups of coffee.
“I love it. This is like my dream place with a view of the river and the town on the other side. It’s warm and cozy in here.”
“What about you, Momma?”
“I like it, too. It’s all clean and modern and new. I always feel like we need to gut our place after I’ve been up here.”
“Our place is over a hundred years old,” Charlie said, laughing.
“I like it, don’t get me wrong. It’s home.”
“When you were a little girl, you liked staying home. Did I ever tell you that?” Charlie asked.
“Um, maybe ten or twelve hundred times.”
They laughed about it, but Charlie was serious. “It’s the sign of a true introvert. You hated anything out of your routine, even as a tiny baby. We had to be so careful about keeping to your schedule. I myself loved it because it was an excuse I could use when I didn’t want to disrupt my own agenda.”
“Aw, Papa, I’m sorry I was a party pooper. I’m about the same now. I like staying home.”
“But how are you really doing?” he asked, worried about his girl.
“It comes in waves,” she said, leaning back in the chair. “I’m sure it will get worse. Once I get back to work and when I have to face the loneliness, then it will become real.”
They didn’t ask how she was dealing with the horror of it. Pictures had surfaced in the Philadelphia tabloids of a distraught Landon cradling the body of her bloodied lover. Her quick action had prevented any gruesome photos of his wounds. But her parents read the article and looked at the pictures of her, one where she was looking over her shoulder terrified.
The reporters wrote about her tackling the shooter, who could have blown her face to bits, too. It was why they’d decided to visit her, unannounced.
Sitting in her living room, listening to her speaking of normal things like the upcoming holiday, emphasized that she was still in shock. She didn’t fully understand the process she was about to embark upon, but she wasn’t deluded and knew it would be tough. Wishing they could protect her from the future pain, the only thing in their power was to do what they were doing now. Sitting with her, bringing her treats. Showing her love.
At about two she yawned. Calista elbowed Charlie. “Maybe we’d better go before traffic gets too bad.”
She didn’t argue.
“Take your sandwiches,” Landon said, standing. She’d ordered cheesesteaks as promised. “I’ll never be able to eat all this deliciousness.”
Helping her pack up the rest of their lunch, they got promises from her to get in touch if she needed anything.
“If you want to come around the old neighborhood, we’d love that.”
“I’ll definitely spend the holidays there,” she said.
It would be the first time in three years that she’d spend Christmas at the home of her youth. Taking a deep breath, she tried not to think of the Christmas traditions she’d miss with Kenny, the music, the things that she’d already associated with him.
Instead, she’d retreat to the comforting traditions of her childhood. They were probably the only family in South Jersey who left hot toddies for Papa Noel, or had a bonfire so he’d find their house.
It was time to do what she wanted to do, too, not what the guy wanted to do. She should have done it when he was alive. She couldn’t very well blame the men in her life because she didn’t do what she wanted.
Her mother smoothed her cheek. “It’s okay not to be okay, sweetheart.”
“I don’t know if I have a choice.”
“No, maybe not,” Charlie added.
“I’ll come to you next time,” Landon said. “Maybe Wednesday. I’m already looking forward to it.”
When they were gone, she