A Letter to Delilah by Jaxson Kidman

Author:Jaxson Kidman [Kidman, Jaxson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-10-26T16:00:00+00:00

I had no idea where he was taking me. I made a small list in my head. But a cemetery wasn’t on that list. My mind and body were still reeling from what had happened in the shower. The hottest part of it (besides Josh touching me) was the way he acted as though nothing had happened. He was the same Josh, but I was certainly not the same Amelia.

That moment… his touch…

It had played through my mind so many times for so many years.

Josh parked his SUV on a dirt path and turned it off. He reached for my hand before I could get out.

“This is me, love. The pieces you’ve always wondered about and wanted. All the moments that collected together to make me into me.”

“You don’t have to do this, Josh.”

“I do. Because it’s the only way I’ll understand you. And what your life was really like. He hurt you. I know that. I know he hurt your mother. He really hurt her. But did he hurt you in the same way?”

“No,” I said, my heart squeezing. I looked around at the cemetery and gritted my teeth. “No. I fought back. I always fought back. She never did.”

“You were always strong, Amelia.”

“She was too,” I said. “Just not when it came to him. Ever. Even after he was gone, she was the same. No. Worse. She grieved him. She grieved him so hard and I never understood it.” I looked at Josh. “That’s what finally made me drive her away.”

“She’s still alive?”

“Somewhere.”

“Damn. That’s heavy.”

“No. It’s not. We did what we had to do for each other to survive.”

“See? That right there, love. That’s strength. If that were me, I’d be halfway through a bottle, looking for something to relieve the thoughts.”

“Like that woman at the restaurant?”

“Ah. Right. Michelle. You know she left. And I’m never going to lie about who I am. Or what I want.”

“I have to say, being sweet talked in a cemetery is a first for me,” I said.

“Come on.”

We walked side by side, but we didn’t hold hands. Not that I expected it.

As we weaved through the stones - new and old - the part of my brain that demanded writing, storytelling, the complete ending to everything wondered about all these lives that were lived. Birth to death, the moments in between. Life and family. Love and hurt.

“I don’t know why I brought you here,” Josh said as we stopped. “You know the story. I just… I haven’t been here in a while. To see her.”

It was his grandmother’s headstone.

An angel cut in the stone, praying, large wings. Inside the wings were splashes of emerald green.

“Joshiphene,” I said.

“I was named after her,” Josh said. He put a hand out. “Before you get mushy on that, my father did that to get on her good side.”

“It’s a great name. A strong name.”

“That’s who she was. Great and strong.” He rubbed his jaw. “Ah, fuck, love, I’m still connecting all the dots. Right over that mountain was where you used to find me.

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