Out of Left Field

Epilogue - Pt 2

My little boy. So grown up and marrying the love of his life. It's funny how things work out. Lisa and my mom were inseparable, which lead to Chris and I eventually falling in love.

Cami and I were joined at the hip and now we were getting ready to watch my son and her daughter tie the knot.

Full. Circle.

"Here," i clear my throat again and walk over to where my son and husband stood, passing the note to Miller, "Sami wanted you to have this."

He takes the note, twisting his lips to hide his grin.

"Why don't we give you the room?" I offer, jerking my chin towards the door and gesturing for everyone to head out.

Miller leans down, kissing my cheek, "Thank you, Ma. For everything."

I hum in response, knowing that if i spoke i would combust into a mess of tears, which makes him laugh.
"Can't talk?"

I shake my head, Chris laughing and wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me away.

"Holler if you need us," Dom calls out, all of us shuffling from the room quickly to give him some alone time before we head to the altar.

I pat my eyes with the crumpled tissue in my hand as we walk out of the room. "Anyone seen Deli?"

"Bathroom, last I talked to her. That was..." Theo pulls out his phone to check the time, "20 minutes ago, though. So I don't know."

She's acting really weird today. I've been trying to get her alone to ask her about it, but today's events are making it hard to focus on anyone besides Samara and Miller.

I turn to head toward the bathroom in the lobby of the hotel, then whip around on my heels and point my index finger at my son when i register the smell wafting off of him, "Theodore Robert. Lay off the whiskey. You're only 20."

He grins sheepishly, Dom and Chris both flushing.

Obviously, they aren't putting a stop to it.

I roll my eyes and head toward the lobby again, calling out, "Give your keys to your father," over my shoulder.

There are only 30 or so minutes until it's time to walk down the aisle, if I'm going to talk to Deli, nows the time to do it.

Pushing open the bathroom door, I sigh when I hear the unmistakeable sound of someone puking in one of the stalls. "Del? You okay?"

"Mom?" She groans, "Yeah, I'm okay. Just– I don't know, stage fright or something," she rambled off quickly.

Being a horrible liar is also one of the traits that my daughter had picked up from me. It paid off when she was a child and a rebellious teenager, but now it just made me worry. Her voice is off, and slightly panicky.

I walk over, rapping my knuckles against the stall door, "You sure?"

Delilah sighs as she shuffles around inside the stall, the lock unlatching before she pushes the door open slightly, "I'm okay. I just– I need a few minutes."

"Oh, Honey," i pull the door open, stepping into the stall and unraveling some tissue paper to clean the mascara running down her cheeks. I crouch down to her level and dab at her eyes. "What's going on?"
I had my suspicions this morning, but she would tell me when she was ready. I'm going to try my hardest not to push her.