Just Because (Completed)

Chapter 19: Delilah

19Delilah

We managed to find Jeremy at church. Or rather... he found us. As in, he spotted me across the lobby and actually jogged between people until he was standing in front of me. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or be mortified.

He sat with us during service, and I couldn't help watching him as the music played. He worshipped with his hands held high and eyes closed, similar to the way I did, only much more boisterous in his movements. It was as though he didn't care at all that there were over five hundred people in the room. It was just him and God, a place I hoped to one day reach in my confidence.

Dad declined to join us for brunch after, insisting that he get back and help Becket with the horses before he returned to the office Monday morning. He'd taken two weeks off to be with me after the storm, doing only the bare minimum from his home computer, but it was time for him to get back to work. Honestly, I'd be a little sad to see him go. The house would be so empty, so quiet, leaving far too much time and space to allow my thoughts to wander to places I didn't want them to be. Like on black-haired, blue-eyed men that looked nothing like the man sitting across from me in the diner booth.

Jeremy was saying something to me, I realized, and I'd not heard a word of it as I blinked out my thoughts.

"You okay?" He asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah, sorry, I just... completely spaced for a second. What did you say?"

He laughed softly. "I just asked if you prefer chocolate or vanilla."

"Neither. Strawberry."

"Chocolate-covered strawberry?"

"Strawberry with chocolate chips..."

Shaking my head at the memory, I smiled. "I guess that depends on what is being flavored."

Jeremy grinned and winked at me. "Milkshakes."

"Oh, in that case, strawberry all the way. However, I will indulge in the occasional chocolate drizzle."

Still grinning, he inclined his head. "Good choice. I prefer vanilla myself."

"How boring."

He laughed out loud. "I know, I know. I just... never cared much for chocolate."

"That's blasphemy, you know."

"So I've been told. Multiple times by multiple people." He chuckled again, and I joined him, then we leaned back as the waitress brought our pancakes. Mine were blueberry, his were plain.

"So, I do believe I was promised a little insight on this supposed crisis you attended to last weekend," I said, and he smiled again.

"Indeed you were." He drizzled maple syrup on his pancakes while I poured blueberry syrup on mine. "My brother is schizophrenic." He admitted, and I paused halfway through cutting my cakes.

"Oh... I'm sorry I asked."

He waved a flippant hand. "No, it's fine. Not like it's a secret or anything. He's good most days, stays in an institution over in Raleigh. Has been there since he was fifteen."

"Oh..."

"He's twenty-two now." He continued. "As I said, most days he's good, but every now and then he just gets a little... frustrated. He decides he doesn't want to take his meds anymore which opens a door for the voices and paranoia to come back, then he starts cutting, talking about suicide and people coming after him..." He let out a long breath. "At that point, the hospital usually calls me since we're all each other has, and I have to drive out and bring him back to planet Earth."