What Dreams Are Made Of

2.

*Calvin's POV*

I'm not ready.

Today is the day where we officially say goodbye to the woman who made me, and I'm not ready.

It's been a week, and it's been so hard for me to even leave my room, let alone my house.

Between Tuck, Shay, Lane, Colt, Ricky, and Delilah, each of them have spent a night with me, other than last night because of the funeral today.

I was all ready, suit on, face painted with a smile, and then the knock came.

Dad opened my door and peaked his head in. "Just checking in."

"I'm good." I nodded.

"No you're not." He shook his head. "And no one expects you to be." He walked in and sat on my bed with me. He took a deep breath. "This has been the week from hell. I know that. I know you're not ok. But I wanted to come in, check on you. Brayden's been pretty vocal, but you've only came out to eat."

"Theres nothing to be vocal about." I shook my head. "My mom died."

He nodded. "Yes, your mom died. And to add on to that, you've got friends coming in and out of the house making sure you're alright, then your best friend is leaving for the summer tomorrow and is dreading it because she'd rather be here with you, Tucker and Shay have been fighting back tears because this is bringing up a lot of their mom, and Lane, Colten and Ricky just simply don't know how to help you and it's showing."

I sighed. "A part of me just wants to sleep away the summer." I nodded.

"I know. And that's understandable kiddo. But I'm not going to let you do that. Which is why, when Tucker and his family go on vacation next month, you're going to Barbados with them."

"I need to be here for Brayden." I shook his head.

"Buddy, I love you. I understand you want to help take care of B, but I am putting a stop to that right now and I am telling you, that is not your job, it's not going to be your job, and I will be damned if you feel it's your responsibility to take care of a 10-year-old. It's not. I'm sending you on vacation with people who love you like their own so you don't hole up in your bedroom for months. I am your father, I am a grown man, and I have been handling things around here just fine since she was hospitalized. I have my mental health in check, it's my job to make sure you and Brayden's is too."

And here it comes, the burning sensation, the eyes watering, the lump forming in my throat.

"You're allowed to do that." Dad nodded. "I don't understand why you think you have to hold it in. You don't."

"Boys shouldn't cry." I choked out.

"Who in the hell told you that?"

"You don't cry." I shook my head.

"Yes I do." He rubbed my shoulder. "Calvin I have cried every day, since we found out about moms cancer. But I do it in private, or with parents, just because I don't let you and your brother see me cry doesn't mean that I don't cry. You being a boy, does not mean you don't get to have emotions or express them. You get to be vulnerable. I am just very good at controlling my emotions because of my job, but I do let them out. So if you need someone to be vulnerable with, be vulnerable with me. Ok?" He wrapped his arms around me. "God kiddo, you're such a strong kid for 13, but you don't need to be."

And honestly, my dad just held me for a while.

I meant what I said, my dad doesn't cry.

Or at least I didn't think he did because I have never seen him.

It felt like 4 hours when in reality is was only 20 minutes, and the only reason I know that is because the knock on my door and then Delilah peeking her head in.

She told me when she would be here.

"Hey." She gave me a small smile.

My dad pulled away, grabbed both sides of my face. "She's one of the people you can be vulnerable with too." He nodded and stood up.

He walked over to her, hugged her, and kissed her forehead. "Hi baby. I love you, I appreciate you. Thank you for being here for him." He nodded.

"Always Papa John." She nodded.

He gave her a small smile and walked out.

She closed my door behind him, leaned against it with her hands behind her back and gave me a sympathetic smile. "You're not ok." She shook her head.

I sniffled. "No. I'm not."

"Do you want to talk before we go?"

I scrunched my face and completely broke. "I miss my mom." I choked out.

And I swear, as fast as she could, she dove on to my bed, wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. "I know bubba." She kissed my cheek and just held me.

I feel like something that's going to stay with me for the rest of my life if the funeral being a blurr.

It feels like the majority of this week is a blurr.

All I can even remember at this current moment laying in my bed is the boys being there with Shay, telling me they were behind me every step of the way.

I know Delilah's mom spoke, but I don't remember what she said.

Just the feel of Delilah holding my hand every single minute we were there.

Her letting go just to jump up again because I couldn't bring my self to put a handful of dirt in her grave.

Delilah got me through today.

I probably wouldn't have been able to leave this house today if it wasn't for her.

Which is why when I woke up this morning, after actually sleeping, I got up, threw on shorts I could run in, and I literally sprinted to the air port.

It was an hour run from my house, so I made it just in time to see Delilah heading to where she was boarding.

"Li!" I yelled as I ran right passed her parents.

She shot around, dropped her carryon, and met me right in the middle, jumped in to my arms and squeezed. "What're you doing here?"

"I needed to come say goodbye."

"Where is your dad and B?" She shook her head.

"I ran." I squeezed her harder. "Thank you. For everything. I love you."

"I love you too dude." She kissed my cheek as I set her down. "3 months." She nodded.

"Call, everyday." I sighed.

She smiled. "You know it."

They called last boarding call, and just like that, she left, and I made my way back over to her parents.

"Calvin Truitt." Her mom wrapped her arms around my shoulders. "Please tell me you did not actually run here."

I nodded.

Her dad sighed and rubbed my back. "We'll take you home kid. How're you feeling?"

I looked up at him. "Like I just lost my saving grace for 3 months."

Delilah Martin, really is my saving grace.

What am I going to do without her this summer?