CHAPTER FIVE HUNDRED and FIFTY-EIGHT
“So he could have his brother close to him?” Nash asked.
“I don’t think Seth ever dreamed that he would live in this house again,” Delphie said with shake of her head. “He brought them here for his mother.”
Nash nodded and felt like he understood.
Nash took a breath to ask another question but Delphie cut him off.
“Would you like to talk about what happened yesterday?” Delphie asked.
Nash swallowed hard and shook his head.
“You mean, ‘Would you like to talk about killing the only person in the world that loves you?’” Nash said with a sigh.
“She’s not dead,” Delphie said.
“If we lived in a normal house with normal people in it, she would be,” Nash said.
“If, maybe, might,” Delphie said. “Plus, she is not the only person who loves you.”
Nash looked at Delphie.
“I know, it’s just that …” Nash said with a sigh. “I … I mean … It’s all my fault.”
He put his hand to his chest and repeated, “My fault.”
“Teddy has a bit to do with it, too,” Delphie said.
“Teddy always wants to do what he’s told,” Nash said. “He’s so … good. I … He was …”
Nash took a breath to try to stop the storm of emotions. Think that he was winning, he took another breath and then another. Sorrow overtook him like a Tsunami. He began to weep.
Delphie sat with him. She’d sat with him any number of times when his mother had “forgotten” to pick him up. She’d listened to him rant when he’d argued with his father. She’d seen him through the rough nights after their mother had broken Noelle’s cheekbone.
She didn’t try to sooth him. That’s not really what he needed.
She sat with him in the middle of his emotions with showing him that she had great confidence that he would survive these feelings. When he stopped crying, she got up and went into the other room. She returned with a box of tissues and a large glass of water. Nash used the tissues and drank the water. They sat in silence for a while.
“What can you tell me about your phone?” Delphie asked.
“My … what?” Nash asked.
“It seems like you and your parents have been arguing over your cell phone,” Delphie said. “I wondered if you might talk to me about it.”
Nash took the cell phone out of his pocket and held it up to her. The screen was smashed. The plastic was bent. A putrid odor came from it.
“It’s fried,” Nash said. “Abi did it. I can’t even blame her, it’s just …”
Delphie didn’t respond. She knew that Nash needed to talk about this thing he carried around, even now that it wasn’t working.
“Tell me about it,” Delphie said.
Nash’s mouth opened and closed. He squinted at her and then shook his head.
“I know my dad says it’s bad, but what does he know?” Nash asked with a sneer. “He has no idea.”
“About what?” Delphie asked, keeping her voice neutral.
“About…” Nash scowled again.
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…
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