“Oh, sweetie, I don’t think I’m going on that.”
Ruby’s face fell. “What? You have to!”
“I just think—”
“No, you have to go. You’re fun and I like talking to you.”
Delilah smiled, her chest warming. “Your mom is fun, right? Iris and Astrid?”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Yeah, they’re about as fun as a bag of rocks.”
Delilah laughed at that, but Ruby was smiling. On the porch, Claire leaned her elbows on the porch railing, the colored lights illuminating her face with blue and green.
“What’s so funny?” she called.
“See?” Ruby said, jutting her thumb toward her mother and lowering her voice. “Rocks.”
Delilah narrowed her eyes at the girl, a smile still on her lips. “We’ll see, okay? About the camping trip. But either way, we’ll work on your photo soon, okay? I promise.”
Ruby’s shoulders sagged, but she nodded.
Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Delilah’s middle. For a second, Delilah didn’t move. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged her. Years. Jax was probably the last person, and toward the end of their relationship, it was more mindless screwing than anything else. Stress relief for both of them. Lord knows, that’s all Delilah had done since—thoughtless touches, desperation for skin without any real heart behind it.
This, though. This . . . embrace. From an almost-teenager, no less, and everyone knew almost-teenagers hated everyone. It took the breath out of her. Literally, for a few seconds as Ruby rested her head against Delilah’s chest, arms tight around her waist, she couldn’t find enough air, her eyes stinging with a swell of sudden tears.
But then she moved her arms around Ruby, pressed her cheek to the top of her hair. She exhaled what felt like a decade’s worth of anxiety, and accepted the girl’s love.
Chapter Nineteen
CLAIRE WATCHED IN awe as Ruby threw her arms around Delilah. She’d come out here about ten minutes ago to tell her daughter that Tess’s mom had called and asked about a sleepover, but then she saw Ruby and Delilah talking, how the younger girl pressed her face into the air between them, eager and searching and fascinated. Ruby had taken Delilah’s phone and started circling around their old birdbath, the one Claire had been meaning to clean out for ages but, in the grand scheme of things, was relatively low on her priority list.
Now she was glad she hadn’t.
There was something beautiful in that leaf-filled bath, and Delilah was helping Ruby see it. Or maybe Ruby had already seen it and Delilah was just a guide. Either way, Claire felt breathless as the process unfolded, how Ruby bent and twisted with the phone, how Delilah quietly watched her with this look that Claire could only describe as pride.
And then . . . Ruby had hugged her. For the past couple of years, Ruby didn’t give away her affection easily. She loved lying in bed at night with Claire right next to her, snuggling and talking when her body was less alert and ready for rest. During the day, though, her kid was on the go, always moving, talking, observing, wondering, and whenever Claire reached out for a hug, Ruby would pat her mother on the back and then dart off like the Flash to the next thing. She barely even let Iris or Astrid hug her anymore.
And yet.
Claire felt an ache in her throat, watching her daughter reach out into the world and have the world . . . reach back. She took a shuddering breath as Ruby and Delilah broke apart, shook her head to clear it, wiped the sudden wetness from under her eyes.
“Hey, Rabbit?” she called.
Ruby turned and looked at her mother. “Yeah?”
“Tess called. Want to spend the night?”
“Yeah!”
Her daughter raced toward her, Delilah forgotten, but as she pounded up the porch steps, she stopped and turned back to the other woman.
“Thanks,” she said.
Delilah smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Then Ruby dashed inside, flip-flops loud against the hardwood. Claire watched her disappear around the corner to her room and then turned back. Delilah was ambling across the grass, her lithe limbs graceful, like she was moving over water instead of earth.
“Where’s Iris?” she asked as she approached the porch.
“Gone. She and Grant had a movie night planned.”
Claire might have imagined it, but she swore Delilah’s steps halted for a split second at the news. But then she kept going until she was right next to her on the deck. Claire’s stomach was in knots, and she couldn’t figure out why. Could be any number of things. Josh. This camping trip. Astrid.