heart like yours (jennifer jareau)

3. twenty eight

TWs:
mentions of blood and gore

•

"i've lost the knack of being a person. i no longer know how one is supposed to be. and an entirely new kind of solitude of not belonging has started invading me like ivy on a wall." - clarice lispector

•

The diary was left unread. Things were too chaotic with the move for Delilah to find time to sit down and let her brain read the memories of her childhood in the cabin she'd tried so hard to suppress.

So, she packed it up into a cardboard box and put it in the back of the moving van Dave had hired, then sat in the backseat of Liv's car as she drove them to their new house on Monday morning.

Delilah had Ziggy in the backseat with her, purely because he was still half asleep and had his casted ankle resting on Delilah's lap. But, soon enough, they were at their new house, and it wasn't really a house.

It was a fucking mansion; one of many in this gated community of even more mansions. How could there be so many mansions for as far as the eye could see? Why was Delilah not surprised that this was where Dave had chosen to buy a home for them to settle down?

The mansion was a huge white building, with white pillars holding up an upstairs balcony. The garden was fresh and green, even in November, and there were a few trees in the front yard, more visible around the back of the porch attachment.

Delilah could already imagine Dave stringing up the garlands and hanging wreaths for Christmas next month, would laugh at him while he made her stand at the bottom of a ladder while he tangled fairy lights in the outdoor trees, too.

And then it wouldn't be too long before Dave made Delilah help him build another tyre swing for in the front yard, just like he did when she was first living with him and Liv in their place in Boston. Maybe they'd even build Ziggy a treehouse, this time, too.

Dave's moving van was already pulled up in the four car driveway, movers unpacking things and taking them inside. Dave was stood on the end of the garden's grass, talking to a neighbour who had walked over with his dog.

"You know, considering I grew up with a home meth lab in the garage, this is..." Ziggy trailed off into a yawn, rubbing his face. "This is an upgrade. Is this what it's like to be rich?"

"You might wanna get used to it," Liv said, parking the car and opening the door. "Welcome home, guys."

"Home?" Ziggy murmured, looking at Delilah. "I'm gonna need a fucking map to get around here."

"Swear jar starts today, Ziggy," Dave called from where he was stood with the neighbour.

"How did he hear me?" Ziggy whispered. "Isn't he almost deaf in his old age?"

"That's a dollar!" Dave called.

"I didn't swear!" Ziggy called back.

"You called me old! Good enough for me!"

Delilah reached into her pocket, handing Ziggy a ten dollar bill.

"Might as well make the most of it," Delilah smirked at him, getting out of the car and looking around.

Bingo, formerly known as Sparky, raced over to join Ziggy as soon as he was out of the car.

"Are we still calling him Bingo?" Delilah asked.

The dog whined, moving so his head was resting against his paws and it looked like he was hiding his eyes.

"He doesn't like Bingo," Ziggy said. "I think it's B names. He hated Bowie, and Blondie, and Bowser."