Delaney James seems to have it all-a successful husband, a stylish Manhattan townhouse, and a thriving career in fashion journalism-until it all falls apart. Her husband leaves her, shattering the perfect life she once knew. Heartbroken and desperat...
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I forgot how much I love talking to Delaney. How much I love the sound of her voice. We discuss school – and her degrees as I quickly learn – and how big cities are different from South Grove. She talks about the time her friend Nico saved her from getting hit by a cab on her first day at NYU. She wore a pair of Manolo somethings that her parents gave her the day she moved into her dorm, and when she crossed the street, her heel got stuck in the hole of a sewer grate. She tried to pull herself free, but it was either her or the very expensive shoes, and she couldn't decide fast enough. Just as a cab came flying down the street, Nico saw her and pulled her out of the way. Shoe and all.
He was her Knight in a Louis Vuitton blazer – her words – and now she rarely goes anywhere without him.
Lucky fucking bastard.
She tells me about her internship in Manhattan, and we dabble on my minor league career and how I spent three years in the farm system before I was called up, but she lets me lead the conversation and doesn't pry for details. She knows without me telling her that it's a delicate subject.
She tells me about the article her boss offered her and how she got it the same day she found out about the affair. I agree with Nico that she's crazy for turning it down, but I understood her reasons once she said she caught Will and his assistant fucking in their bed, and how she couldn't focus on anything other than the fact that her life had done a complete one-eighty. She said if she couldn't put one hundred percent of herself into the job, she didn't want it, and I knew exactly what she meant.
"So, there's something I've been wanting to say," she says, turning toward me. "I'm so, so sorry about your dad."
I stiffen and take a long sip from my beer. "Who told you?"
"I ran into him the other day and he didn't look like himself. I was worried, so I mentioned it to my dad, and he told me everything. I'm so sorry, Grey. You have no idea how badly I wish there was something I could do."
"Thanks, Del. It's been hard, watching him practically decompose in front of my eyes, but he's been in remission for a while. We're all hoping it stays that way."
She places her soft, warm hand on top of mine and squeezes. "He's going to be okay. I truly believe that."
We talk for hours and it's effortless. We laugh about the naivety of our past. We reminisce and talk about how our ten-year reunion is coming up, and even though neither of us plan on going, we can't believe how fast the time has gone. We make fun of each other for stupid decisions we've made, non-existent wrinkles and gray hair, and as I sit with her, I remember how easy it is to be with her. Unlike girls I've come across in the past, there's no hidden agenda with Delaney. No expectations. I can be myself because she knows and accepts the deepest parts of me.
"Guys, I'm taking Hannah inside so I can clean her up before we head over to the fireworks," Jo says.
"I be wight back, Aunt Waney. Don't weave," Hannah says, as Jo carries her toward Delaney's house.
