My Heart for Yours

10. Delia

10
Delia

I miss the way Tobin smelled when he'd come home from work. Like metal, sweat, and fire. I loved what his welding job did to his arms, shoulders, and back. Kelly, Rachel, and I would walk in front of the welding shop a hundred times a day just to smile, or wave. That was the summer Tobin and I got together. The summer that forever changed my life. The last year I spent in Crawford. And I spent as much of it with Tobin as I could.

My favorite time to watch him work was when Tobin couldn't see me, and I was alone. I'd just watch for a few moments. Even with his mask on, I could tell he was deep into his work. He was an artist as much as he was a builder or repairer. Something I don't think most people recognized about him. I know my dad didn't.

I thought once we got back to town, it would seem more real, but even being here, it still seems impossible that Eamon's gone. I hate that he's gone. I hate it for young men everywhere, and for me and for Tobin and for the people who Eamon helped find strength, even when they didn't think they had any.

Tobin did that for me. I was never stronger, happier, and more alive than when I was with those two—even though I don't think Eamon had any idea what to do with the way Tobin and I felt about each other.

Eamon took me in like one of his own, because even though he thought we were crazy, he could see how much I loved his brother.

Tobin was the only thing I ever stood up to my dad for. Even if I only did a crap job of it, I tried. Until suddenly Dad seemed right, and I was just too tired to fight anymore.

~ ~ ~

"The only time we've been at odds, Delia, was over that boy." Dad stood in the doorway of my new room in D.C. as I laid in bed, my whole body aching. It wasn't just the move, all of it was too much for me to deal with.

I wiped more tears, but didn't say anything.

"I want you to think about how that turned out, Delia. Think about it long and hard. I want you to know that taking over Senator Lyle's seat was an honor I was chosen for, and I'm not going to be one of those men making excuses for my kids because I expect you'll damn well do what I tell you to." Dad's jaw was set, his dark hair greased back, and his three-hundred dollar custom shirt was pressed and heavily starched to perfection.

I wanted to scream at him and tell him I hated him and that I'd do whatever I damned well pleased, but Tobin wasn't there. Tobin hadn't called.

Tobin broke my heart before I broke his, he just didn't see it that way. He said he couldn't answer when I'd called, that he needed space, time to process what was going on with us. But I needed him. For him to finally decide to be there after I was gone was too little too late. I figured he would be relieved. He was finally rid of me.

"We understand each other, Delia?" I swear Dad grew a foot taller as he leaned into my room.

"Yes sir." I wanted to snap out the words, but instead I sounded weak. Just like he wanted me to. Damn Tobin. I'd needed him to fight, and he'd just let me go. He had to know that I couldn't be strong anymore. That I didn't know how to stand up to my dad without him by my side.

Mom stepped through the door, not meeting's Dad's glare. She patted him on the arm. "I'll talk to her."

"Delia and I have already talked!" His voice boomed. "And she knows damn well what I expect. We have a dinner tomorrow night, and she needs to be cleaned up and ready to go."

I wondered if by 'clean up' Dad meant that he'd noticed that I was wearing one of Tobin's shirts. I stole it from his room the day before we left town. It was the only thing I'd ever taken without permission from anyone. The soft, button up plaid shirt was old and worn and smelled deliciously like Tobin.