Traces of Delilah

Twenty-Three

Our car ride down the street was easy-going, filled to the brim with the sound of Andrew's fingers drumming against the leather pad of his steering wheel. My car had been abandoned in front of his apartment complex.

It was probably best that he took the wheel and his own car, while I called the shots. This day was going to be a hassle. I could already tell. It almost reminded me of the first time him and I hung out together. I was just as awkward and he was just as comforting. Well, he tried to be. I was more on edge this time around.

Lucky thing, my fever hadn't gotten worse overnight. The boiling hot peppermint tea I drunk, on my way to work this morning, soothed my throat. For the most part, I'd slept as comfortably as I could without recreating the events of stumbling along Damon's body in my nightmares. The only thing left I had to worry about was a congested nose, that wouldn't clear up no matter what I did.

"Okay, there's only two Victoria Secret's in town. We'll try the one in the shopping center first. If she's not there, she might be in the other one," Andrew said, looking over at me, then back at the road, "it's not far from the shopping center. So, it shouldn't take long to get to."

"Okay," I said, glancing down at my phone for the time. 

So far, we'd been making good time. It was only going on two in the afternoon. It was hard to say whether she'd be working today or not. But it was worth a shot.

I removed my glasses from my face, cleaning the lenses with the bottom of my shirt. When I slid them back onto the bridge of my nose, my eyes were on Andrew's hands. Specifically, the glamourous ring curving over his skin.

"Hey, you know. All this time we've been spending together . . . I've never asked you about that."

"About what?" Andrew glanced at me in the mirror, eyebrows knitted together.

"Your soccer ring. The one around your finger."

"Oh, I uh, played soccer in high school before I fractured my ankle during my senior year. Definitely was a bitch to deal with after I graduated." He snickered.

"Oh, soccer huh? Didn't take you for a soccer guy. Didn't even think you played a sport."

Andrew's chuckle was light, almost faint. "Yeah, well my mom played when she was in high school too. She was kind of my inspiration to start playing."

"You take after your mom a lot, don't you?" I laid one of my hands, on top of one of his. He released it from the steering wheel, threading our fingers together. And he kept the steering wheel steady with the other hand.

"My dad has always been our rock. Tough, there when we need him, a shoulder to cry on. But my mother was always the sun. Courteous, sweet, the light in our lives. She kept the fun going. Every day was an adventure with her."

My heart broke at the sight of his smile. This was the first time Andrew had ever talked to me about his mother in detail. I was always curious, but I never pried. I didn't think we'd be this close so I never felt it was my place. Those were the kind of spots people reserved for those they trusted. A long-term friendship or partner maybe if that was your kind of thing.

I was almost jealous. Was it wrong to say I wish I had a mom like his? It felt wrong. But I didn't know anymore. I guess I was too hard on my mom, sometimes. She could do better, but I could do better reaching out.

I decided to change the topic. "Damn, I hope she's still there and we didn't miss her."

"Yeah, let's hope. . ." He sighed. "By the way, what's the big deal with Silvia? She hasn't been messing with you or anything, has she?"