Home Sweet Home ch.28 (Patreon)

They walked upstairs and down a hallway covered with thick, blue carpet. The bedroom on the left at the end had its door slightly ajar. Daphne knocked and gently pushed it open.

"Hey, Dee," she said softly. "I brought you some things. And a few guests. Do you remember Astoria and Harry?"

A woman around Daphne’s age lay in the bed, awake but dazed and calm. Her hair was dark and tousled from sleep. One of her eyelids drooped halfway and stayed in place while the other blinked. In Harry’s opinion, she was pretty but distant and—well, looking at them without fully seeing them.

Daphne sat on the edge of the bed next to her friend. She waited a few quiet seconds. Delilah slowly turned her head to look directly at Daphne, and a smile formed on her lips.

"The first top is so totally your style I couldn’t resist bringing it home," Daphne said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a jade-green blouse with short sleeves, a wide neckline, and loose ruffles that gathered tighter around the waist. "Thumbs up? Thumbs down?"

Delilah stared at the blouse for a moment. She made a small movement, not quite a nod, not quite a smile. Daphne laughed and stood up.

"I knew you’d like it."

Daphne reached down and, completely surprising Harry, pulled off her own top. She changed into the green one and started modeling it for Delilah. The bedridden woman’s face slowly brightened with a smile.

"Perfect for casual days," Daphne said. "You could wear it to the club too. It’s yours if you want. Just say the word."

Delilah made a small sound, not a word but at least a confirmation. Harry felt like a forgotten piece of the scenery with Astoria, but he didn’t mind. He was witnessing something he knew wasn’t meant for him. Both this moment and this side of his older sister.

Daphne went through the entire bag, trying on clothes that Delilah showed interest in and setting aside the ones her friend didn’t approve of. She folded the clothes Delilah liked into a pile on top of the dresser and sat back down with her friend, leaning in close to whisper words Harry couldn’t and didn’t try to hear.

"Come on." Astoria tugged Harry’s sleeve. "Let’s wait outside."

They walked back into the hallway. Harry shook his head, finally giving in to his confusion.

"This is the same Delilah who was Daphne’s best friend, right?" he asked. "I think I remember her from before I left."

"Daphne and Delilah had a very serious car accident two years ago," Astoria said. "You might not have heard about it, depending on how well Mom kept you informed. The car rolled over once. Daphne wasn’t hurt, but the boy driving was killed, and Delilah..."

"Suffered a traumatic brain injury." Mrs. Daniels’ voice cut in as she came up the stairs and rounded the corner. "Delilah has been recovering since then. Daphne visits her every week. Every week, always bringing new clothes. That’s what they loved doing together, shopping, coming up with outfits, and endlessly talking about how they’d both become fashion designers one day."

"I didn’t know that," Astoria said. "She never talks about Delilah at home."

"It’s probably too painful for her," Mrs. Daniels said. "She’s really a sweet girl. I think a lot of people see her blonde hair, her good looks, the tattoos, and make the wrong assumptions about the size of her heart. It’s not that you can’t be pretty and have a heart, but in my experience, those things don’t always go hand in hand these days."

"Yeah," Harry said. "She’s the best."

"It helps Delilah’s recovery," Mrs. Daniels said. "It may seem like not much, her smile or the way she follows people with her eyes, but it’s so much more than she could do at the beginning. I’m sure part of it is just the time she’s had to heal, but it seems she perks up every time Daphne visits and sits with her. It’s just..." Mrs. Daniels winced and rubbed one eye. "It’s wonderful, what she does for my daughter."They went back downstairs. The tea was ready, and Mrs. Daniels poured them each a cup. The tea had cooled just enough for Harry to take a sip when Daphne hurried down the stairs.

"We really should get going," she said. "Same time next week, Mrs. Daniels?"

"Next week at this time, she has a doctor’s appointment."

"Then I'll come on Thursday if that works?"

"Thursday would be wonderful." Mrs. Daniels gave Daphne a warm hug. "Thank you, Daphne. It was nice to see your brother and sister too. You both are welcome to come as well."

Daphne narrowed her eyes at Harry and Astoria, standing behind the older woman.

"Yes, if we can," Harry said.

They stepped outside. Daphne carried a bag with the leftover stolen clothes. Harry didn’t feel ready to address the blackmail issue until they were out of sight of the house, but Daphne beat him to it.

"You followed me," she said.

Harry nodded. "Yes, and for good reason."

"We know all about your shoplifting, Daphne!" Astoria snapped. "Harry even got a call from a cop! It’s over. You can’t blackmail us anymore, unless..."

"You think I care about fucking blackmail?" Daphne hurled the bag of clothes to the ground, and Harry realized she had tears in her eyes. "You had no right! This wasn’t your fucking business!"

She stormed off, stomping her feet. Astoria immediately moved to follow, but Harry held her back. He picked up the bag of clothes and handed it to her.

"Take this back to my bike," he muttered. "I’ll go talk to her."

"What is there to talk about?" Astoria asked. "We won. Let’s go home. She can’t do anything now."

"I know, but..." He sighed. "Maybe she’s right. I don’t know if we should have done this, regardless of whether she was stealing or blackmailing us."

He squeezed Astoria’s hand and then broke away, running to catch up with Daphne. He said nothing, suspecting there was nothing to say. He walked beside her in silence, present but not pushing anything.

She continued walking until they reached a bus stop. They were the only ones there, so she sat on the bench. Harry took a seat next to her and sighed.

"We didn’t know what we’d find when we followed you," he said.

"That doesn’t make it any better," she muttered.

"Astoria wasn’t lying," he said. "I really did get a call from a cop about shoplifting. Even if it was for Delilah, it’s still a crime. It’s still serious."

"Fuck off."

"Let’s drop the blackmail," he said. "You have something over me, but now I have something over you too."

"Again, do you really think I care about blackmail now?" she snarled. She glared at him, even baring her teeth slightly, but some of the anger faded from her face as she leaned back. "This is my life, Harry. My deepest, darkest shit. You two had no right to force your way into it."

She looked more hurt than anything else. Harry resisted the urge to point out how much her actions had stirred similar feelings in him and Astoria. He sighed and moved a little closer to her on the bench, setting aside the blackmail in favor of being a brother.

"Talk to me," he said. "I want to know what happened."

She swallowed and looked down at her hands. "I do too. I mean... I know most of what happened. Pieces and bits, enough to piece together that night. I was really drunk. We all were. We were at Delilah’s, and her mom wasn’t home. I remember there was a party across town that we found out about last minute after we’d already started drinking..."

Harry nodded slowly. "You weren’t driving, Daphne. Mrs. Daniels said so."

"I wasn’t driving," she said. "But I... I think I was the one who convinced everyone to go. No, that’s not true. I know I convinced everyone to go. If I had just shut up, if I hadn’t been so selfish and shortsighted..."

She shook her head and pulled her knees up on the bench, wrapping her arms around them. "It wasn’t your fault," Harry said.

"You don’t know that."

"No, but I know you."

"Really?" Daphne asked. "You left for four years. You’re practically a stranger to me. You have the skin of my little brother but not the acne on your face anymore." "What a lovely mental image."

Daphne made a noise and exhaled through her nose. She was silent for a few seconds, looking down the street as if searching for something she wouldn’t find.

"I owe her more than just clothes," Daphne said. "She lost everything because of me. I owe her everything."

"That makes sense," he said. "At least emotionally. Not necessarily the logic behind it. You weren’t driving, Daphne."

He felt a strange smile tugging at his lips as he looked at her. They sat quietly for a moment.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Daphne asked when she noticed his gaze. "Please don’t tell me you’ve decided to move from peeking at Astoria to peeking at me."

"Sort of." He jokingly nudged her arm. "No. I’m just... proud. Proud of my big sister’s big, stupid heart."

"Shut up." She smiled despite herself, trying to sound mean. "Here’s the bus. Unless you plan to leave Astoria without a ride home, you should go find her."

"Alright. See you at home."

He stood up from the bench, as did Daphne. "Yeah," she said. "Thanks, Harry."

"For what?"

"I guess for listening."

"Now we’re even," he said. "In more ways than one."

"I know."

"I mean about..."

"I know what you fucking mean, Jesus." The bus pulled up in front of them, and Daphne got on.