Free The Truth About Delilah Blue by Tish Cohen Page B

around.”
    “Ironic. After you left, I used to wonder who turned out the stars. Here they were, watching over you the whole time.”
    Lila didn’t answer. It was as if her mother felt she were the wounded party. “So why now? Why come now, just like that?”
    Elisabeth smiled, cupped her hands around Lila’s cheeks. “I came to see my girl, Delilah Blue. Why else would I be here?”
    A car drove past and Lila realized she should say something, anything. But banal objects kept catching her gaze: bits of trash trapped beneath some bushes, a rogue daisy that should never have survived the summer’s drought, dog shit parched to white next to the mailbox where she’d waited for letters—certain if she put enough force into waiting they would come. She grew to despise the ugly mailbox, the way it stood, head cocked, at the edge of the parking pad, untroubled by the twenty foot drop that loomed behind. When the little door hung open, the mailbox looked foolish, like a drunken frat boy showing his tongue to prove he’d swallowed a goldfish whole.
    Her mother appeared as entranced as she was by the mailbox, staring as she was at the faded letters that spelled out MACK . “This is yours?”
    Lila nodded.
    Elisabeth stared at the stick-on name. She pressed a balled-up tissue to her mouth. “Mack. All this time…Mack.”
    Lila nodded. “Dad changed it. And I go by Lila now.”
    “Lila Mack.” She giggled sadly, tears flowing again, head shaking from side to side. “Lila Mack.”
    “Lila’s just easier. And Mack…Dad said it was Grandma’s maiden name. Or Mackinnon was. That Grandma was the last Mackinnon, and when she married the name died. He said she was gone now so we could honor her memory this way. With Mack.”
    “It was the name he wanted to give you if you’d been a boy. Did he tell you that?”
    “No.”
    “I never thought of it. Not once in twelve years.”
    Lila couldn’t resist. “If you’d called I’d have told you.”
    Elisabeth turned away, dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. After a moment, she turned back, more composed. “So, Miss Lila Mack, where’s the front door?”
    Lila pointed to the other side of the cabin. “Are you—do you want to come in?” She glanced down at the plaid curtain flapping through the open kitchen window. “Dad’s home early, I think. His car’s here.”
    “No.” Elisabeth pressed another kiss to her cheek. “And I don’t want you to tell him I’m here. Not yet, okay?”
    Lila shrugged.
    “We’ll meet in the morning like we talked about. After that, you can tell your dad.”
    “Okay.”
    “And, sweetheart, there’s no pressure. You can call me whatever you want. Mum, like you used to. Or Elisabeth. It’s been so long and I realize you’re feeling quite shocked right now.”
    Lila half laughed. “Just a bit.”
    “Then why don’t you call me Elisabeth for now? Then, later, who knows?”
    “All right. Elisabeth.”
    “Your head will be much clearer after a good night’s sleep.” Her mother pulled her close again. “I’ve spent every moment of every day loving you. You just remember that.”
    Her mother had loved her?
    Near impossible to fathom. One didn’t cut off all ties with a person they’d spent every goddamn day loving.
    How could the woman stand here and lie to her face?
    Elisabeth climbed back into her car, her face almost level with her daughter’s knees now. She reached for Lila’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You won’t disappear will you?”
    “Why would I do that?”
    Elisabeth smiled sadly and whispered, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
    And just like that her mother was gone. They would reconvene the next day over coffee and toast in a sidewalk café, blinking out the rosy morning light with grapefruit and strawberry jelly. Eighteen percent cream between them to help if things got weird. Lila would keep her thoughts focused this time. Try to keep her mind off the bits of trash skittering by on the street—and