~1~
Delilah Murphy slides a Mountain Dew from the refrigerator, taking a quick sip before making her way up the stairs. She hears yelling coming from her parents’ bedroom. She ignores it, entering her bedroom to check her bag and make sure all the items for a weekend with her best friend, Tiffany, are accounted for. She walks over to the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. She smiles at her reflection, running both hands down her custom-made shirt from CJ Marley. She makes sure everything is in place.
“I’m too sexy for myself,”
Delilah sings, before blowing a kiss to herself. She looks at her watch,
realizing her ride will be there any moment. She drops her bag by the door and
takes a quick glance out the window. The Johnsons must be running a little
late.
Delilah hears yelling again. It
is getting louder, and she doesn’t know if she should interrupt or not. So, she
places her ear to the door to eavesdrop, groaning, “Not
this crap again.” Her parents’ arguing
has been going on for the last couple of months.
She
leans closer to the door. “What could possibly be wrong this time?”
“I am sick and tired of you
always questioning me, Desmond.” Denise’s voice rises
in volume, filling the room.
“I have to question you, Denise,
because you’re never home.” Desmond’s face squinches in anguish as he clenches
hands at his sides. “For the last five years, you have been completely absent
in this household, and I’m tired of it.”
“I do not have to answer to you,
and I’m not going to feel guilty for working hard to provide for my family.”
Desmond cannot believe Denise’s
attitude and defensive behavior.
“I will be damned before I give up my business
to pacify your feelings and ego!” Denise finishes her statement and heads
toward the door.
Desmond grabs his wife’s arm
forcefully, swinging her around to face him. “Damn it, Denise, don’t walk away
from me!”
Looking alarmed, Denise pushes
her husband, trying to get him to release her arm.
“No,
I am not getting in the middle of this again.”
Delilah remembers the last time she tried to intervene in one of her parent’s
arguments.
Delilah had walked into her
living room to catch her favorite television show, Law and Order: SVU. She had just placed her drink and chips on the
table when she noticed her mother heading towards the front door with her
father right on her heels.
“Desmond, I am going to
Tennessee. This trip is essential for releasing my clothing line.”
Delilah’s father grabbed his wife
by the shoulders, slightly shaking her. “I don’t care. For the last two weeks,
you have not spent any time with me or Delilah. We come before that damn
boutique.”
When he released her, Denise
slapped her husband. “Don’t you ever manhandle me like that again!”
Delilah came out of the living
room, running over to stop the situation. “Mom, what are you doing?”
Desmond reacted by swinging to
hit Denise, but the open-handed slap sent his daughter reeling backward to the floor instead.
Denise ran over to Delilah to
help her. “Damn you, Desmond! Look what you have done!”
Desmond froze, realizing he was
out of control. He attempted to comfort her. “Baby girl, I am so sorry.”
Delilah backed away from him.
“I’m so tired of you two arguing. I can’t take it!” She ran to her bedroom,
slamming the door.
Denise waved her hand, stopping
Desmond from touching her. She walked out the door.
Now, the pressure Desmond applies
to her arm makes Denise wince. “So help me, God, if you don’t let me go, you’re
going to regret it.”
Desmond knows she isn’t playing.
Denise’s piercing eyes burn into his soul, causing him to release her and plead
his case. “I miss you at home. It seems like Delilah and I don’t fit into your
world anymore.”
Denise’s jacket starts to
vibrate. She pulls out her cell phone, glances at it, and silences it. “Don’t
bring Delilah into this.”
Desmond rubs the top of his head
and exclaims, “What else do you want me to do?! She is seventeen years old, and
I haven’t seen you spend any time with her.”
Denise rolls her eyes.
“I’m serious, Denise. When was
the last time you two went shopping? Or had a mother-and-daughter day?”
Denise can’t answer, because she
knows deep down that her husband is right. She has been paying more attention
to her business than her family, but she won’t let Desmond know it. She can’t acknowledge that she has missed Delilah’s last
four birthdays, their wedding anniversaries, and the holidays because of
business conferences, workshops, and fashion shows. She is tired of him always
bringing up past issues in every argument. Heck, she’s also tired of the
arguing itself.
Her cell phone rings again,
displaying her assistant’s number, and this time, she answers it. “Hello,
Cherie, how can I help you?” She turns away from her husband for some privacy.
“Mrs. Murphy, your car will pick
you up at four o’clock this evening. You will arrive in Evansville at seven. I
have arranged for a late check-in at the hotel. The conference is a few miles
away.”
“Thank you. Will you be joining
me tomorrow before the presentation?” Denise asks.
“Yes. I will be there before
lunch, and I will have your presentation materials set up before you go on at
one o’clock.”
“Sounds great,” she replies,
looking at her husband’s disapproving facial expression. She shrugs and hangs up
the phone.
Desmond
holds his palms up and out, hoping his wife can feel his defeat. “What the hell?”
“I’m done discussing this with
you. My driver will be here to pick me up in two hours, and I don’t want us to
say or do anything we will regret.” Denise walks around him, trying to get to
the bedroom door.
“Fine, go ahead and run from our
marriage and our daughter. I want you to remember one thing, Denise: I’m not
always going to be waiting for you when you come back.” Desmond storms out of
the room and right into his daughter.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Delilah
apologizes, then looks at her mother, who has appeared in the doorway with her
suitcases. Delilah tries to read her father’s expression as he speaks.
“Hey, baby girl, you all ready
for your big weekend with Tiffany?”
Delilah stands with one hand on
her hip. “I’m not stupid, Dad. What’s going on now? I heard both of you
arguing!”
He tries to distract her by
pulling her into a hug.
“Dad, don’t ignore me. I know you
and Mom were arguing,” she says, pointing at her mother, ready to take her
father’s side in the disagreement.
Delilah believes her father can
do no wrong. This is mainly because he is there to listen to her and spends
time with her. She takes his side in everything.
She can still remember the first
time Mother Nature arrived and her mother was not available to take her to the
store. Her father, as brave as he
could be, made his way to the feminine aisle and helped her pick out supplies.
She wasn’t mortified, because her father had a way of making embarrassing
moments seem small when he was around.
She smiles, remembering her first
encounter with the tooth fairy, whom she believed was her dad. She did not
believe the fairy would be able to lift her head to place any money under her
pillow. So, her father showed her an alternative with the drawer in the
kitchen. They placed her first tooth there, so the fairy could find it. The
next morning, her father led her to the drawer, where the fairy had left a
dollar.
The drawer became their way of
sending each other secret messages. He leaves her notes with cash if he is not
going to be home. She always checks the drawer when arriving home.
Desmond sighs. “Your mother and I
did have a little disagreement.”
She gives her father a look that
says: Here we go again. Delilah has
little interaction with her mother, especially after hearing the way she speaks
to her father. Delilah realizes it’s happening again, and this is not good.
“For reals? You guys have been arguing a lot lately.”
Denise gives her daughter a look
that says: No, you didn’t. “Don’t
question your father; a child should know their place.”
Delilah glares at her mother,
rolling her eyes while showing her the palm of her hand. “Whatever!” She walks
away, heading toward her bedroom and slamming the door.
Then, she looks at her bedroom
door and whispers, “I wish you would leave for good.”
She picks up a book to browse
through on her bed while waiting for her ride. She straightens the black, grey,
and teal bedding before sitting down. The black canopy bed sits in the middle
of her room, contrasted by the teal walls that surround it. The grey and teal
bathroom suite is large enough for Delilah to host her many clothes, shoes, and
tote bags. She loves only a few things besides
her father: Shopping, books, and spending her parents’ money.
She recently received a couple of
books by one of her favorite authors, S.E. Green, a young adult suspense
thriller writer who incorporates psychological twists into her stories.
Back in the hallway, Denise turns
to her husband, expecting him to correct their daughter. “Are you just going to
stand there and let her talk to me like that?”
Desmond smirks. “You brought that
on yourself.” He turns away from his wife with no desire to correct Delilah.
The way she behaved toward her mother was somewhat his fault. Once, she’d heard
him on the phone when Denise left for a business meeting without telling them.
She’d heard him yell at her mother that she was being a bitch.
He shakes his head at his wife.
He just wants to keep Delilah on his side, in case their marriage comes to an
end. He looks at her one more time before descending their cherrywood staircase
and walking out the door.
As soon as Desmond shuts the
front door, a horn blows and startles Denise. Delilah looks out her window,
grabs her bag, and heads toward the door. She stops to take a deep breath
before having to deal with her mother
since she’d already seen her father get into his car.
“She’d better not say anything to
me,” she mumbles to herself while opening her door. Delilah breezes by her
mother, looking forward and bumping her mother’s shoulder as if she wasn’t there. She doesn’t give her mother time
to say anything before heading down the stairs with her overnight bag in tow.
When she reaches the door, Delilah finally hears her mother calling her.
“Delilah, did you not see me
standing here?”
She answers without turning
around. “I saw you.”
And with that, she walks out of
the house, leaving her mother at the top of the stairs.
I really want to win this book; to read both of them .
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