Remember to Forget, Revised and Expanded (27 page)
“But it's weird. I hadn't felt like this in months. And suddenly, I move here and
everything changes again. But I'm not changing back to who I was.”
“I think that's nearly impossible. Now you're figuring out who you really are, not
who you were. You've grown up, Levi. You have been through more than most kids your
age. Change isn't a bad thing.”
“But I was happy . . . before. And now it's a different type of happy. I don't know
how to explain it. Before it was like I felt excited and highly caffeinated all the
time. But now I feel completely comfortable and safe. They're totally different kinds
of happiness, if that's what happiness even feels like.” I sigh and bite on my bottom
lip.
“See, you just admitted to being happy.”
“No, I didn't,” I say quickly.
“Yes, you did. Say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you're happy.”
“But I'm not.”
“Levi.”
“Dad.”
“Fine. I'm happy. Okay?” I say, throwing my hands in the air.
“Say it like you mean it.”
I roll my eyes and sigh heavily.
“I'm happy. I'm feeling happy, despite constantly thinking about Delia. But for the
first time in months, I don't feel like I'm carrying
five thousand pounds on my shoulder,
and I can finally breathe easily, and I don't feel trapped anymore, and I'm not always
anxious, and I'm laughing and talking, and I'm happy,” I say very quickly, and almost
run out of breath. I inhale deeply and let the air out slowly. “But now I might have
just pushed away the person who makes me happiest and ruined everything,” I whisper.
I wipe under my eyes before I start crying. I have absolutely no idea where all that
came from.
My dad puts his arm around my shoulders and hugs me closer to him. “I'm proud of
you, Lee. It'll all work out.”
“I thought I outgrew that nickname years ago,” I say, pulling away from my dad.
He laughs lightly. “You never will.” He nudges my shoulder. “That was good dad advice,
huh?”
“It wasn't
awful
.”
Both of us smile and sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. I'm not sure
when my dad suddenly became some wise father who is actually good at giving advice,
but what he said actually helped. I feel a little better now. Maybe a lot better.
We talk for a little longer about random stuff, and it's actually really nice. It
feels good to be with him again, like how things once were. I start to yawn a lot
and almost fall asleep midsentence.
“I'm gonna go to bed now,” I tell my dad, slowly getting out of his room.
“Are you feeling better?”
I nod. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“If you ever want to do this again, I'm always here.”
“I know. I just wish I'd realized it sooner. You're not really that bad. I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. Goodnight, Levi.”
“Goodnight. Oh, and Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for letting me move in with you and eat your food, and for not kicking me
out for being such a jerk.”
“That's what dads are for. You're not so bad yourself, Lee.”
I
'm woken up at three in the morning by the sound of my phone ringing. I reach over
and see that Levi is calling. I sigh and pick up the phone.
“Hello?” I whisper.
“Did I wake you up?” Levi asks.
“Yes.”
“I'm sorry.”
I don't say anything.
Levi speaks up after a few seconds. “I figured it out.”
I sigh. “Okay,” I respond. I knew he would go back to counting the second I left.
“What I figured out is that you're right. I don't need to know how many days it's
been. I
can
let go. I need to live in the now. And that's with you. I'm sorry for
yelling at you and getting so angry. I don't know what came over me. I can't help
it sometimes. I promise I'll try not to have it happen again, because I don't want
to lose you. I'm also sorry for calling while you were sleeping, but I needed to
tell you now. I needed you to know. I get it if you don't accept my apology,” he
says.
“Leviâ”
“Wait, I'm not done. I didn't count the days. I still don't know. When you left,
I stood in my doorway for a really long time
debating if I should go after you but
then too much time had passed and I wanted to, I really did. But I wasn't mad at
you, I was mad at myself. None of it is your fault.”
He stops and takes a deep breath.
“Please say something,” he whispers.
I smile a little. “Of course I forgive you. I get that you were upset. I understand.
It's okay. I appreciate you calling me. I regretted not staying with you, and I
was really worried. You weren't in a great state of mind; it happens to everyone
sometimes. I'm happy you're okay now too. Thanks for calling,” I tell him.
I hear him exhale slowly. “I was so worried you would be mad at me,” he says quietly.
He sounds like a little kid; the total opposite of earlier. He also sounds exhausted.
I wonder if he tried to continue counting the days, or if he didn't try again. Either
way, I'm proud of him for making the right choice. It's healthier for him to not
be keeping track; it probably just made him more depressed. I can't even imagine
counting the days since someone's death.
“Go to sleep and we can talk later, okay? You sound like you haven't slept,” I tell
him, yawning. I need to sleep too.
He laughs quietly. “I haven't slept at all. Goodnight, Delilah.”
“Goodnight, Levi.”
Both of us wait a few seconds before hanging up the phone.
“See ya,” he whispers, ending the call.
I
walk over to Delilah's house the next morning. I want to make sure she really does
forgive me, because I feel awful about how I treated her. I don't want her to be
mad at me. Over the phone, I can't see her face and tell how she truly feels.
I ring her doorbell, and she answers it after a few seconds.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hi.” I should have thought about what I was going to say before I got here.
We both awkwardly stare at one another, not knowing what to say.
“I'm sorry,” we both say in unison.
“Why are you sorry?” I ask, surprised.
“I should've just let you count the days. I know how important Delia is to you. I
just hated seeing you so upset.”
“No, no. You were right. I should've just listened to you from the start. It was
just making me sadder. I actually feel kinda better not knowing how many days it's
been.”
Delilah smiles. “I'm happy to hear that.”
I nervously run my hands through my hair. “So we're okay now?”
“Yes, don't worry.”
“I can't help it.” I don't know what I would do if Delilah was mad at me.
“Wanna come in?”
I nod. “So does this mean you forgive me?” I ask, stepping inside.
Delilah laughs. “I told you when you called that I forgave you, and I meant it.”
“Okay, just making sure. It would suck if you didn't forgive me.”
I follow Delilah into her room, waving to Lucy when we walk past her.
Lucy runs out of her room and grabs on to my leg.
“Lila said you were mad at her,” Lucy says.
I look up at Delilah, and she's blushing.
“Lucy, no, I didn't.”
“Yes, you did. I asked yesterday if Levi could come over and you said he was mad
at you.”
Delilah puts her head in her hands and I laugh.
“Are you still mad at her?” Lucy asks me.
“Nope.”
“Why were you mad?”
“Just a silly reason.”
Lucy laughs. “
Silly
is a funny word.”
I smile.
“Lucy, why don't you go draw us some pictures, okay?” Delilah tells her.
“Okay! I'll bring them when I'm done!” Lucy says, running into her room.
“Sorry about that,” Delilah says.
I shrug. “I wasn't mad at you.”
“You so were!” she says, laughing.
“Only temporarily! Now I'm not,” I tell her, hugging her tightly to annoy her.
She laughs and tries to squirm out of my hug.
“Okay, I get it! You can let me go now,” Delilah says, hitting my chest.
I laugh and stop hugging her.
Everything feels back to normal. Yesterday was just a weird day for me, and I think
Delilah realizes that. She doesn't seem to be holding anything against me, which
is good.
I tell Delilah that I looked at all the decorations she brought over yesterday. I
put some in my room, and some more around the house. It was really thoughtful of
her to do that, and I was so rude to her. I didn't even notice the bag of decorations
until today. Even though she told me about them when she left, I was so concerned
about counting the days that I must have forgotten.
Delilah points outside. “It's starting to rain,” she says, looking over at me and
smiling.
I stand in front of the window, looking outside. “It's not gonna be too much.”
“How do you know that?”
I shrug. “I was really interested in the rain when I was younger, I know all about
the clouds. It's super embarrassing,” I tell her, feeling my cheeks heat up.
“That's cute!”
“No, it isn't! It's weird!”
Delilah laughs. “It's interesting. I remember when I had the interview for school
and you said that your favorite thing to do was watch the rain.”
I roll my eyes. “I couldn't think of anything better.”
“Wanna go outside?” she asks, looking out the window.
“In the rain?”
“Yeah.”
“It's freezing out!”
“So what! Just go out for a little then come back. Like you said, it won't rain too
much.”
Before I can make any decision, Delilah throws on her rain jacket and starts heading
out. I pull on the hood of my sweatshirt and follow her.
She stands outside in the driveway, smiling at me while I'm in the doorway.
“C'mon!” she yells, waving me over.
I laugh and run over to her.
“Why are we out here?” I ask. The rain is gently hitting the pavement, leaving small
spots everywhere. There are some raindrops on Delilah's coat, which is a little
too big for her.
“Because you like the rain.”
“That doesn't mean I want to be outside in the cold,” I tell her, wrapping my arms
around myself. “I'm not seven years old anymore.”
“Pretend.”
She jumps into a small puddle and laughs. Her hood falls off, but she doesn't bother
pulling it back on.
It's cute how she's running around in the rain like a little kid. She's so excited
for some reason. I watch her stand under a tree, trying to keep somewhat dry. Her
cheeks are rosy and her hair is damp. Some of her mascara has started to run.
I have to admit that I still do like being out in the rain. For some reason, it relaxes
me. I like feeling the water cool my skin. The steady sound of raindrops is calming.
It's something familiar that I've always known.
“I'm cold!” she tells me.
“Told ya.”
I reach my arms out and catch some rain in my hands. I splash some of the water at
Delilah.
“See, I brought you out here and you're already happier.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You were tense when you got here. Now you're not.”
I shake my head. Even though she's right.
“Levi?” she whispers, walking close to me. We're both beneath the tree now.
“Yeah?”
“Why do you like the rain so much?”
“It reminds me that I'm still alive.”
She smiles and runs a hand through her wet hair.
“If you would've asked me what my favorite thing is now, I would've had a different
answer.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah.”
“What would it be?”
I feel my cheeks blush again. “Being with you.”
I realize that I stopped searching for the end of the rainbow a long time ago, but
I think I found one in Delilah.
H
-Hi, L-Levi,” Mitchell says. He's sitting across from me in Candace's office. We're
doing our weekly session together.
He's gotten a little more talkative lately.
I wave. I haven't spoken to Candace or Mitchell yet. I clear my throat and write
on my whiteboard.
I have something to say.
“Go ahead, Levi. Say whatever you want,” Candace says.
I nervously rub my nose and clear my throat again. I wipe away some of the words
on the whiteboard with my finger before I gain the courage to speak. “Hi, Mitchell.
Hi, Candace.” I smile. Candace stares at me, shocked.
“Is that the first time you've spoken?” Candace whispers, which is strange because
she's always loud.
I shake my head. “No. I've been talking for a few weeks now.”
“I'm so proud of you, Levi,” Candace says. She gets out of her chair and hugs me
tightly. Which is also really weird.
This whole time, everyone's been trying to get me to talk. Candace probably feels
like I've experienced some psychiatric breakthrough, which I guess I have. She smiles
widely at me, not saying anything.
“Y-You have a cool accent,” Mitchell says, smiling widely. He plays with a loose
string on the hem of his shirt.
“Thanks,” I laugh.
We talk for awhile longer, until it's been an hour, which means it's time to go.
Candace asks me more questions than usual because she knows that I can talk now to
answer them. It still feels a little strange to actually be talking to people, but
I'm getting more used to it. Sometimes I stop because I get tired or I just don't
feel like talking anymore. Living almost a year in complete silence, not speaking
became comfortable and easy for me. But now, I'm talking and I'm out of my comfort
zone. It's not as bad as I thought it'd be, though.