Chapter 8: Chapter 8
Just as the night was enough to crave blankets, Delilah and few of her relatives gathered at front. There's only a few of them left for an overstay until morning when burial proceeds. Delilah prepared a platter of cookies, milk for Aunt Suzanne's youngest– Thalia, and three balmy coffees for them three. Laid on the flowery tiled floor were snoring daughters of her father's cousin whose presence burnt down whole day and night. Midnight was almost there and they weren't expecting any guests to arrive or hammer down the old maple door. Chatting, eating then sipping the mild coffee brought memories to Delilah while narratives of her father are bought to life.
"Your father was such a fine man. When we were young we climb to grandpa's mangoes all day and if we were get caught, your father pretends that he fell from the tree so that grandpa would let us escape." Aunt Suzanne's anecdote was not of a humor but to Delilah's ears it was. So, a smile she'd respond.
"Not just fine your father was very smart. We were classmates at 3rd grade and he was the "cream of the crop", at least that's what our teacher says." Then Aunt Auwie laughed and so did Delilah.
After such lengthy talk, Delilah's Aunts decided to rest and call it a night. They even joked that it would be bad for their wrinkles if they stayed up night too long. Delilah was left sitting on the contoured blue chairs. She was about to sip the last flavor of the Cappuccino-scent when four ceaseless knocks interrupted her pace. She carefully placed the Luminarc latte Mug on the side before sauntering unto the doorstep and to the knob. She was cautious yet curious on who could be on the other side hurriedly thumping the maple piece. When she could finally open the door a youthful man glimmered right at Delilah's eyes. Intoxicating, hot and untamed feeling Delilah felt who melted her freezing inner piece. The man was probably of age 27, fine, hard-broadened shoulders enough to carry skinny girls. A perfect god-like shape that made Delilah thought for a second of a Greek deity. Jaws that Delilah had only dreamed on fairy tales from The Grimms, and hair that falls perfectly in every angle of each strand. Delilah couldn't speak, how could she. A fine, handsome, virile and dignified gentleman right at her feet at midnight, oh that was insane, much with the suit who fits perfectly to it's macho physique it's unimaginable for Delilah to see this in reality. A dream, she almost rub her adoring eyes.
"You could be mistaken?" she wasn't so sure of what she said yet she had to. If Delilah continued to stare and be amazed at the man's physical it might be affronted.
"I'm sorry." the husky voice almost serenaded Delilah's eardrums.
"You could be mistaken, the house you knocked this couldn't be the house you're looking for." Delilah tried to explain with contentment and pacifying agenda on the lines. The man smiled at her which Delilah found so displeasing.
"Mistaken? Nope i am at the right house. I believed this was Mr. Erickson Grayve's house." The man didn't hesitate to ask her with such supremacy.
"Yes and you are?" Delilah wasn't born to be the crying angel. If this gentleman was born rude, then things could be a little tight and rough for both of them.
"Jaycee Sahagun." A thick gravelly vocale infiltrated Delilah's peaceful senses then everything turned hell. Delilah's eyes grew full moon, smokes began to vent on her nose. She was gripping her Lilac Tunics that couldn't internalize the name on the paper and the name vocalized right on her face.