Dating Delaney (14 page)

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Authors: K. Larsen,Wep Romance,Wep Fiction

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense, #Romantic Comedy

BOOK: Dating Delaney
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Jake

It’s amazing how someone can be a stranger one day and weeks
later be effortlessly entwined in your life. A fixture. It seems strange to
think there was a time before I knew Laney. A time before I knew that she
doesn't drink soda because every time she takes a sip, she hiccups. It’s the
most ridiculous thing, but lo and behold, every single time she takes a sip it
makes her hiccup or how Claire hates tomatoes but loves ketchup. How is that
even possible? One’s made from the other. How did I never know that they both
are hellacious in the mornings. Claire is Laney’s mini-me in almost all ways,
including the way she’s taken to me. I love her spirit and the glint in her eye.
She’s sweet and a drama queen all in one.

Summer’s beginning to give up her fight and Claire’s in her
second week back at school. Laney and I have been almost inseparable for the
last two months. After a month of coming over after Claire went to bed I finally
convinced Laney to let me in a little more regarding Claire. She was hesitant
at first but it all worked out and the three of us are happily rolling along
together. Even Owen has come around to Laney
and
Claire. He’s generally
not someone parents want to subject their kids to but he’s my best friend and
he genuinely likes Laney so he tries extra hard to behave when Claire is
present.

 

I’m waiting at Starbucks to meet a new client who was
referred to me. The door swings open and in walks Ana. “Hi, Jake!” she calls to
me. I drag my hand down my face. I don't have time for this. Ana is my
ex-girlfriend. The girl I followed from South Carolina to Maine. The girl who
broke my heart eight years ago, just months after moving here together, citing
my dreams and goals weren't ambitious enough for her.

“Ana,” I clip. She pulls out the chair opposite me and sits.
“Now isn't a good time, I’m meeting a client,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I know, it’s me,” she smiles. Shock stuns me. Bob had set
up the meeting. I knew I was meeting a Ms. Jones, but Jones is a common last
name. I never would have agreed had I known it was
this
Ms. Jones.

“Ana. I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I tell her.

“Oh come off it, Jake, it’s been years and I have a rather
large addition I want done and done right,” she argues with pleading eyes.
She’s changed a lot in the last eight years. Her hair has silver streaks in it
that glisten in the sun and she’s got little wrinkles at the corners of her
eyes. She looks tired but as always pulled together.

“Fine,” I resign.

“So, how’ve you been?” she asks.

“Great. Let’s talk about what you want done and keep this
professional though okay?”

She sighs at me but nods her head. We sit and have coffee,
talking about the project at hand for an hour. When we’ve worked out a
walk-thru, tentative timeline, and I’m confident I have all the details that I
need for now, I let her know that I need to get going. We stand together
chitchatting as we make our way outside.

 

Delaney

Can't I just find one goddamned parking spot!? I’m supposed
to meet Amelia for lunch in ten minutes but finding a parking spot in the Old
Port is like finding a nugget of gold in a mountain. I put my blinker on and
decide to make a left onto Exchange Street to see if there’s a spot there. I’m
sitting at the stop sign waiting to make my left-hand turn when Jake walks out
of the Starbucks on the corner. All the frustration over parking leaves my
body, replaced by a smile. I’m about to honk and wave when a tall slender woman
follows him out. He turns to her and she gestures to her car and they start
walking together. I try not to jump to conclusions, I really do.

 

But over the last few months, I’ve met all his friends and I
know he has no family. So, who is this woman? A horn honks behind me, jarring
me out of my thoughts and I make the left onto Exchange before the road-raged
idiot behind me does something terrible. They are walking only a few feet in
front of me when they finally stop. I stop the car in the middle of the one way
street, unable to tear my eyes away from them. She reaches her arm around his
neck and pulls him close into a hug and to my surprise he wraps his arms around
her waist. I put the car in park, unable to catch my breath. She pulls back,
taps his nose while laughing, and then kisses him quickly.

 

My car door is opening and my legs are moving but I don't
recall my brain telling my body to do any of this. I get two steps away from
Jake’s back and I know I can't take one more step towards him because all
that’s waiting is hurt. The tall, beautiful woman stares at me for a moment
before Jake catches her gaze and turns to see what she does.

“Laney?” He sounds like everything's fine or normal. What
the fuck.

“How…how could...why?” I’m stuttering and I can feel my eyes
welling up with tears. My legs are shaking. I’m terrible at confrontations like
these.

“Laney, no…it’s not what...” he starts but I cut him off.

“STOP! I don't want excuses. I really don't. I just thought
you were mine. I thought we were something,” I weep at him.

Before he can say anything, I turn and start to jog to my
car, leaving him stunned on the sidewalk.

“Laney, stop!” he yells, moving now. But I don't stop. I’m
almost to my car. I’m almost away. He grabs my arm and twirls me around into
his chest.

“Goddamnit, Laney, let me explain,” he growls. His eyes are
scared and desperate.

I rip out of his embrace, take the two steps needed to get
in the car, and slam my door shut, locking it. He’s banging on the window like
a crazy man. I want to hear him out, kind of, but the rational side says don't
believe the lies, you witnessed with your own two eyes, trust that. He’s a
cheater. I throw the car in drive and punch the gas, leaving him in the middle
of the street. It feels like someone took a knife, edgy and dull, and cut a
hole in my chest. I’m gasping for air but I can't seem to catch my breath. I
text Amelia that I can't make lunch and go home, curling up in the room that
Jake built. “FUCK!” I scream out as fat tears roll down my face.

* * * * *

Please don't say we're done when I'm not finished

I could give so much more. I've been waiting too long to
give this up-

to give you up. Please Laney just hear me out.

 

Jake’s text pushes me over the edge emotionally. I can’t
deal with this. I just…can’t.
Fuck off.

 

Laney don't do this.

 

I know what I saw Jake. Please just leave me alone now.

 

 

I promptly delete his number from my phone in an effort to
make myself feel like I have any sort of control over the situation. His
absence is suffocating. It feels like I’m drowning, my heart torn from my
chest, chewed up and spat out, leaving nothing but a scar in my chest cavity.

 

It’s been two weeks since our confrontation in the street.
He’s sent flowers twice and he’s stopped by three times, begging me to answer
the door and let him in. One night he even sat out there for four hours
promising me that he wouldn't leave until I heard him out. I had called my dad
and asked him to get Jake to leave then promptly put my ear buds in and cranked
up some music to wash out my feelings.

 

He keeps texting me, trying new approaches to try and get my
attention. Little things like, “I miss the way you hiccup when you drink soda,”
“I love your smile,” “You’re beautiful,” and “You’re my heart.” If he was
trying to woo me, it would have been some great woo, but he’s not. He’s trying
to make me forget what I saw and glaze over it with a lie. As the month goes
on, I learn to live half a life. I wish I had missed the first time we met.

 

Jake

Laney won't talk to me. I can't get her to even listen for
five minutes. I’ve tried everything I can think of: flowers, texts, calling,
showing up at her door, and none of it works. She thinks she saw Ana kiss me
and she did. But she thinks it was me cheating on her and it wasn't. Why she
won't let me explain who Ana is and what exactly happened makes no sense to me.

 

After that day, I told Ana there was no way in hell was I
going to take the job and referred her to someone else. She even offered to
call Laney for me and explain but honestly I can’t imagine that going over well
at all, so I passed. I pace around my house at night without purpose. My chest
constricts, making it hard to breathe. Owen thinks I’m losing my mind and maybe
I am. I thought I was broken-hearted over Ana eight years ago but this, this is
far worse. I stare at the picture on my mantle from the Fourth of July and try
not to cry. How did we fall apart so quickly?

 

I had Ginny morph our two sparkler pictures together so that
it’s one picture and it looks like Laney and I are standing near each other
both drawing hearts in the air. The two hearts intersect, overlapping,
entwined. It came out great. Laney was right, Ginny is a genius with the
camera. I was saving the picture for the holidays, to give to Laney, but last
week, when it was clear she was done with me, I unwrapped it and put it up on
the mantle as a reminder of why I keep trying. I will not give up. I will find
a way back in to make this right. I have to, life doesn't feel whole without
her in it anymore.

 

“Come on, man, come out with me tonight,” Owen pleads.

“I don't feel like it,” I clip.

“You can't stay home and harass Laney by text all night.”

“Fuck you, Owen,” I spit.

“Sorry. But come on…you need to get out. You can pine Laney
tomorrow night.”

In anger or maybe just because of depression, I kick Owen
out and spend another night wallowing in loneliness and dreaming of Laney.

* * * * *

Text exchange between Owen and Amelia:

We have to do something Jake has been reduced to a sandy
vagina

 

Laney’s not much better

 

Any ideas?

 

Maybe....

 

Meet me for lunch? Tomorrow?

 

Deal

* * * * *

I decide it’s time to get Laney’s stuff to her and I can’t
bring myself to just leave it at her doorstep without a word, so I shoot a
message to Ame to see if maybe she will bring it to her.

 

Hey

 

Hey how are you?

 

Shitty, listen I have some of Laney’s stuff can I get it to
you?

 

Bring it to her.

 

I tried. She won't even yell at me from the door now.

 

Shit. Yeah. When and where?

 

I can drop it at your house, tomorrow?

 

Ok. Six?

 

Sure. Thanks.

 

Delaney

“Amelia, I can't,” I choke out.

“Laney. Honestly, you are being the biggest asshole I know.
Why wouldn't you at least hear the man out? It’s OBVIOUS he loves you. Jesus,
look around, you look like you live in a florist shop!” She’s trying to be
encouraging, I know, but sometimes I don't want encouragement, I want my sister
to commiserate with me. “Laney, it’s been over a month, a miserable month, and
the man hasn't given up on you yet...what more do you need?” she pleads with
me.

“What more do I need? How about someone who means what they
say, how about someone who doesn't cheat, someone I can trust!” I snap.

“Laney, all I’m saying is to give him a chance to explain,”
she petitions.

“Why, Ame? Why should I?”

“Maybe what he has to say is worth hearing,” she argues.

“And you would know why?”

She sighs and looks away from me.

“I talked to him,” she admits.

“Traitor.” I carry the box that Jake’s returned upstairs to
my room. It sits packed on the floor of my bedroom. I can't open it. I don't
want to admit that he’s really returned my things. I kick it on my way back
downstairs.

 

“Laney, do you remember that really ridiculous guideline we
wrote for you? The one about the principles of dating Delaney, what makes
Delaney tick, and dating Delaney?”

“Yeah, I still have it somewhere,” I tell her.

“Go get it,” she urges. I search through an old photo album
until I find the page where the infamous “Delaney’s School of Hard Knocks”
lives and bring it to Ame.

“Let’s revisit this,” she declares.

 

In a brilliant moment on our parts we’d written this
ridiculous course offering as a joke, to remind me of what I want and deserve
in a relationship. This of course was written fresh on the heels of my divorce.

Delaney’s School of Hard Knocks - Summer Course

Dating Delaney 301

The Principles of Dating Delaney

Prerequisites include:

 

Honest

Attractive

Faithful

Smart

Affectionate

Funny

Responsible

Family oriented

Go-with-the-flow kinda person

 

 

Dating Delaney 302

What Makes Delaney Tick

Prerequisites are that one must:

 

Be good with money

Love movies

Love music

Love kids

Like travelling

Like eating out

Be willing to wash silverware

Be willing to pamper me

Be good in the sack

Be willing to dance

Like going out

Like staying in

Love good friends and cookouts

Be taller than 5’10”

Resemble Jason Statham

Be a good friend

Sing in the car

 

 

Dating Delaney 303

Maintaining the Relationship Through Bettering
Yourself

By the end of the course you will:

 

Own your own home

Have a nice vehicle

Have a steady job

Have a decent salary

 

In these courses, you will learn that Delaney is 90%
right in life and you should just submit to that fact. Also, you will gain
deeper understanding into the needs and desires of her life. It will help you
progress forward with her, and let’s face it--the only important relationship
you maintain in life is with her (something you learned in Dating Delaney 101).
By the end of this program we expect that you will know what makes Delaney
tick, how to avoid pushing her buttons, and how to truly make her happy--which
in turn will make your life better, because when Delaney’s happy, you’re happy.
Your grades will be based on midterms and finals.

 

 

** The fall semester will offer such classes as Learning
When to Shut Up, Asking for Directions, Chick Flicks 101, and The Art of
Loading the Dishwasher (Lab Fee Extra)

 

 

When she’s finished reading it all out loud to me she hands
the sheet to me, still giggling.

“I think you will find that, although we devised this as a
joke, Jake totally meets all the qualifications of your dream man, which
honestly neither one of us actually believed existed.”

“He looks nothing like Jason Statham,” I state definitely.

“And you aren't right 90% of the time, either,” she glares
at me.

“Asshole,” I mutter.

 

 

After Amelia leaves, I sit and write for the rest of the day
and well into the night. By the end of the week, I’ve managed to throw myself
so far into my work that I finish my book and start a new one. I’ve run so hard
and so much over the last two weeks that I’ve lost four pounds and my head
still isn't clear. The dull ache in my chest won't subside. My anxiety won't
let me rest. I keep thinking about the box in my room and that stupid guide to
dating me and Amelia’s words.

 

My heart breaks over the course of this week again as the
flower deliveries have slowed down and the texts have lessened until one day I
realize that I haven't gotten a text from Jake in a full forty-eight hours.
Panic rips through me. This is what I wanted, but it feels final now. Is he
really gone? Do I really want that? Do I have a choice, even? My heart cracks,
if possible, even more.

 

At three-thirty, Claire gets off the bus and I slap on my
happy face as I see her come up the driveway.

“Hi, Mum!”

“Hi, babe, how was school today?” I ask.

“Good good. Can I have TV time before homework?” she asks
and gives me her best pout.

“Sure, babe,” I relent. I have no fight in me anymore. She
starts for the couch then abruptly stops and turns back to me. “Mail,” she says
as she hands me the stack and once again heads for the couch.

“Thank you!” I call out after her. I sit at the kitchen
island and sort through the mail: bill, bill, bill, junk, and a mystery
envelope. I slit the top open with my finger and pull out the contents.

 

 

Laney,

 

The woman you saw me with was a new client, who also
happens to be my ex-girlfriend, the one I moved to Maine with. She set up the
appointment with Bob and I only had the client’s last name. I had no idea I was
meeting her. I walked her to her car to be polite. I also gave her a hug to be
polite. She kissed me. I did not kiss her back. She surprised me. I would never
kiss her back. I hadn’t seen her in eight years since the week she dumped me.
Laney, I need you to believe me. I need you to know that I’ve been miserable
every second of every day for the last forty-nine days. That’s one thousand one
hundred seventy-six hours of wishing you were here with me, that I’d wake up
and find you lying next to me in the morning, that I’ve missed you and wanted
you and thought of nothing else but how to get you back.

I realize now that we’ve been apart now almost as long as
we were together but Laney, I need you. I want you. Nothing feels right without
you. Loving you is easy Laney, but not loving you is... impossible. I
understand that you want me to leave you alone, so I’m writing this to let go,
to free you of me.

 

I love you, Laney. I should have said it back that first
night we made love.

 

Enclosed is my picture from the Fourth of July.

Jake aka Mr. Attractive aka Magic Mouth

 

 

Fat tears drop from my chin and splat on the page. Am I
really stupid enough to believe what he says or am I stupid enough to
not
believe what he says? I look at the photograph and my heart disintegrates.
Somehow Ginny developed our two pictures into one. Jake and I stand next to
each other, both having used our sparklers to make a heart. Our hearts are
overlapping each other’s and the grin on Jake’s face is enormous. He and Ginny
knew what they were doing. This was before we slept together. This was after
two or three dates. He planned this picture as a surprise for me. It’s amazing
and romantic and perfectly done. The only thing not perfect is us not being
together.

I sniffle and wipe my nose on my sleeve.

“I’ll go over to Nanny’s,” Claire’s voice comes out of
nowhere.

“What?” I ask, startled that she caught me crying.

“I’ll go to Nanny’s,” she repeats.

“I heard you, Claire, but why?”

“So you can get Jake back,” she shrugs.

“What?”

“Mum. I’m almost eight, I’m not stupid. Plus, he kinda told
me it was a letter and a picture when he gave me the envelope.”

“What?! He was here?” I squeal.

“Yeah, he was at the bus stop. Don't freak out. I miss him
too,” she says with a pout.

I stare at my
almost
eight-year-old in astonishment
as she picks up her backpack and walks next door to my mom’s, leaving me
stunned.

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