Goodbyes and Second Chances (The Bleu Series Book 1) (11 page)

Before he can
climb out the window, there is a knock on my door. I nearly fall out when I
pull it open and find Aunt Evie standing on the other side. Crap.
Busted
.

“That boy ain’t
leaving until he gives me a hug goodbye, too,” she says and shocks us both.
Kyle is standing behind her, with red-rimmed eyes. Dillon gives her a hug, and
then one to Kyle before returning to me for another one. We say nothing until
he turns to climb out the window.

“You know you
have been welcome to use the blame front door all this time, young man,” Aunt
Evie says with a smile, causing us all to laugh a bit nervously.

“Was I the only
one who didn’t know about this?” Kyle asks in an aggravated tone.

“Looks that
way,” I say as I follow Dillon out the door towards the awaiting van.

It’s idling in
anticipation with only us and the dark morning sky to see them off. Dillon
climbs in the passenger seat, and then leans back out for one final farewell
kiss. “I will keep my promises, pretty girl,” he says as he pulls away from me.
I reluctantly let go and back away from the van. They pull off. After the
taillights round the corner, I sit in our small yard and fall to pieces.
Eventually, I will have to figure out how to pull myself together and get on
with my life. I just don’t have a clue as to how to do that.

* * * *

This has been
the loneliest time of my life. The trailer park doesn’t seem right at all with
Dillon and the twins gone. They have always been a steady part of my life; now
they are gone and I just can’t cope with it. It’s been six months and everyone
tells me it will get better, but it hasn’t so far. I’m heartbroken. I’m young.
I get it. It’s more than me pining away over some guy. I feel like a big chunk
of my family has left me. I see the same hurt in Kyle too. Kyle and I hang out
more often than not, but the treasure hunts and midnight mischief just aren’t
the same. We are obviously behaving much better these days. My brother has
snagged himself a girlfriend too, so you know what that means for me and my
loneliness.

Sure, I talk to
the guys, but it’s really sporadic and always hurried. Dillon sent me a cell
phone a few months ago, so that’s made it a little easier to keep up with each
other. He sounds so excited and determined when I talk to him, which is
normally really late at night. It sounds like the band is struggling to make a
name for themselves. Of course, they won the opening act spot on the All Rock
Tour, as I knew they would. But they are considered freshmen and are having to
prove themselves to the music industry. It’s taking a lot of hard work and
dedication, so I try to always sound upbeat and supportive when Dillon does get
the chance to call.

The phone calls
always go the same. Dillon gives me the run down on what concert venue they
will be going to next, on who they are meeting with to try to get an agent and
all that business stuff, and what rock legend he has gotten to meet. I do what
best friends are supposed to do. I cheer him on and continue encouraging him to
keep pushing forward. But as soon as we say goodbye and I put the phone down, I
crumble. I cry as though he has broken my heart. I’m such an emotional wreck. I
miss him in such a raw wild way, and I need to figure out how to get over it,
for my sanity’s sake.

“Whatcha doing,
sweetheart?” Aunt Evie asks, pulling me out of my depressing thoughts.

I’m stretched
out on the end of the dock, scribbling these miserable feelings in my journal
as I try to find some comfort from the familiar lake as it laps gently under
the dock.

“Wasting time,”
I mumble as I sit up and close the journal.

She eases down
beside me, with all kinds of joints popping in protest, and slips her sandals
off. She pulls her long bohemian skirt up a bit so she can dangle her feet off
the side of the dock and into the cool water. Even though summer is about to
take off for another season, the lakeshore is pretty quiet this early evening.
There’s a light breeze that has brushed the humidity off, thankfully. I roll my
jean legs up before I scoot closer to the edge and dunk my feet in too.

“Sure has been
‘bout too quiet around here without them boys causing any ruckus,” Aunt Evie
says with a chuckle. She knows what’s got me down and wastes no time delving
into it. “It’s been tough on you.” She runs her fingers through my long waves
in a motherly manner as she watches me with sympathetic eyes. She may have the
title aunt, but I’ve viewed her as my mother ever since that day she welcomed
me and Kyle home.

I just shrug my
shoulder. Really. What can I say? It’s true.

“Good things
come to those who wait,” she says lightheartedly, but I find myself crying. She
wraps her arm around me and lets me quietly sob for a spell. Good grief. I’m
such a cry baby anymore.

“I miss him so
much,” I whisper as I bat away the escaped tears.
                                             

“That boy is your
other half and you are his. And nothing is going to change that. Let him live
this stage of his life. Stay strong, sweetheart. He’ll be back before you know
it.”

I say nothing,
because all I can think of is why on earth would he want to come back.

It’s as though
she reads my thoughts. “I have no doubt that Dillon Bleu will be back, Jillian.
Don’t give up on him and don’t give up on yourself in the meantime. Focus on
school and keeping Kyle straight for now.” She nudges me with her foot to get
my attention.

I look over and
nod my head. “I’ll try.” Kyle zooms up in the little truck and beeps the
silly-sounding horn to get my attention. It’s trash time again, so I give Aunt
Evie a weak smile and head off to take care of my duties. I slide into the
passenger side and face towards the window. My brother leans forward,
attempting to make me look at him, but I don’t. I know he has honed in on my
swollen eyes.

“I really want
to hurt him,” he whispers before popping the truck into gear and spinning the
tires on the coquina gravel.

Chapter
Seven

Another year goes by…

The first year
of Dillon being gone, I was hurt. But for some reason this second year, my
feelings have turned to anger. When he ever does get around to calling me, I’m
always short with him and ask no questions. Last month we hit an all-time low.
I was in the midst of studying for my final in business ethics—not my favorite
subject by a long shot. This is when Dillon decided to call me. So my
frustration levels were already stomping on my last nerve. Bet you can guess
who I took it out on…

“Hey, pretty
girl,” Dillon said, already sounding a bit weary. I guess I should have said
something when I hit the talk button in a way of a greeting.

 
“Hi.” The thrill of the sporadic calls was
long gone.

“Guess where I
got to perform last night?” I could hear him trying to tamp down his
excitement, but was failing.

Now, I know I
should have closed the book eagerly and given my boyfriend my undivided attention.
I should have begged him for every single detail. But I didn’t so much as
inquire nicely. To be honest, I was tired. And if I’m going to be completely
honest, I was jealous. I still am. Dillon is living out an amazing dream and
here I sit in my closet of a bedroom in my tin can of a house, studying for an
exam at the community college because I can’t afford any higher of an education
than that.

Yes. I told you
I have turned angry. Angry
and
jealous.

So I kept
studying and mumbled an aggravated, “Where?”

Dillon didn’t
answer right away. But when he did, he revealed his own ugly issue. “You sound
distracted. You got company?” This is his little turn this year. He’s started
with this notion that I’m tiring of waiting on him and I’m going to move on with
someone else. Well… Since we are being honest, some days I think about it. I’m
lonely, and I’m starting to doubt Dillon is ever coming back for me. I have all
kinds of wild notions running through my head as to what he may be up to. He is
the lead singer of an up-and-coming rock band all the way out in California. I
may talk slow, but I ain’t stupid.

So, back to the
conversation. “Yes, Dillon. I have company. I’m on a hot date with this hunky
textbook.” I was all-out mad at this point and let loose on him with sarcasm.
“I know insignificant things such as my exam at school tomorrow don’t matter to
you. But I really need to study so I can pass so I won’t have to be a cleaning
lady the rest of my pathetic life!” I hurled the pen across my small room
during my rant and threw down the thick business textbook as hard as I could.
“So do tell me where you got to perform at last night.”

Dillon went
quiet again and when he answered, I heard all the hurt I had inflicted on him.
Mission regretfully accomplished. He whispered, “I think it’s best I just let
you go.” With that he hung up, without waiting for a reply from me. I guess I
did what I had set out to do. I wanted him to feel bad too.

I’ve not heard
from him since, and I can’t bring myself to call back. I can’t even begin to
describe how much I miss Dillon and hate him at the same time. More correctly,
I hate that a choice he’s made is keeping us apart.

Chapter
Eight

Months gone by…

Another month passes
and then another, with me hearing nothing. Not one word from Dillon. I have
heard all about the fun and adventures of the life and times of Bleu Streak via
Max and the gang. They call or text every so often to tell me about some crazy,
cool something-or-other that they got to do. They also call regularly to ask
for new songs. I’m just not in the sharing mood as of late, so I brush them
off. These calls come weekly, yet I still hear nothing from Dillon. So I guess
that’s it. It’s over. If I’m not boiling mad, I’m hiding out somewhere bawling
my eyes out. This is not a life. It’s definitely not the romantic notions
Dillon and I had dreamt up in that month before he left. We were so naïve.

I get that he
doesn’t have the money or the time to come see me anytime he wants. It’s not
like a music career can thrive from a back road in southern Georgia. He’s where
he
needs
to be. And sadly, I’m where
I
have
to be…

Chapter
Nine

And yet another
month…

“I
miss you.”

“You
sure about that?” I ask curtly. Dillon finally calls. I’m relieved and right
down aggravated all in one shot.

“Come
on, pretty girl. Be nice to me.” He pauses but I stay quiet, so he continues.
“You know I’m in love with you. And I know you love me too.”
Such words coming from a seventeen-year-old
,
I think to myself. Well, he’s closing in on eighteen, but still. It’s mighty
young to understand the notion of love.

“You
say you love me so much, then why haven’t you called in over three months?” I
ask, tears floating down my face. I feel so pathetic.

“I
thought it was best to give you some space to finish up your semester. I didn’t
want our dumb bickering screwing up your grades.”

I’m
sitting on the golf cart parked on the cold, deserted beach. I wipe my eyes and
search the lake for some courage to ask the question I’m not sure I want
answered. “What’s going on between us?”

“Life
is what’s going on, Jewels.” I don’t know if this answer makes me feel any
better. He pushes on. “I’m working so hard. Really. I just don’t want to ruin
what we have. Baby, this is a test… a trial we can get through. I promise we
can. Just be patient. Please.”

“Okay,”
I say weakly.

We
sit in more silence for a few beats. I want to beg him to come see me, but I
can’t ask him something he can’t deliver right now. I know that wouldn’t be
fair.

“Me
and the band are heading to Virginia Beach next week for a one-night show
before going to New York.”

I
interrupt him and try to sound encouraging. “That’s great, Dillon.” It’s the
first time they’ve been anywhere close to the east coast. My stomach twinges at
him being that close and not getting to see him.

As
though he is reading my thoughts, Dillon says, “I just wish there was time for
a quick trip to Georgia.”

My
nose stings and more tears show up at my disappointment. “Me too,” I whisper.

“You
want to see me, pretty girl?” he asks.

“More
than anything,” I say through sobs. I’m a hot mess.

“Well.
You should get a delivery tomorrow for plane tickets and concert tickets for
you and Kyle.”

I
sit up straighter on the cart. “What?”

“Please
say you’ll come see me. I’m dying to see you. Please.”

I
grin at the lake. “I’ll be there, Dimples!”

“I’ve
missed you calling me that,” Dillon whispers now.

“I
miss you,” I say as though that’s not already obvious. All I’ve done the entire
phone conversation is cry like a baby.

“I
love you, Jewels.”

“I
love you, Dimples.”

* * * *

I’m
excited beyond words. Kyle and I have been working super hard to get things
lined up for our weekend trip. A friend of ours has agreed to take care of the
garbage duties and bathhouse cleaning while we are gone, in exchange for
getting to camp out in the park. Sounds fair enough to me, and Aunt Evie okayed
it.

One
thing about relationship angst is that I’ve had lots of inspiration to write
songs. I’ve written a half dozen pretty good songs in the past two years.
There’s been a lot more than that, but I’ve tossed them every time I get over
my moments of anger. I neatly wrapped the songs in a shirt box to present to
Dillon for his eighteenth birthday. Two are moody ballads and four are more
upbeat rock songs. I can’t wait to give them to him.

Our
bags are packed and loaded in the Mustang, and we are ready to head out to the
airport. We swing by the campground office to say goodbye to Aunt Evie, but
she’s nowhere to be found.

I
walk back to the front desk and see Ms. Nell, who is helping Aunt Evie out
while I’m out of town. “Ms. Nell, where’s Aunt Evie?”

“She
went over to help Ms. King move her niece in. The poor girl just needs somewhere
to stay for a few months. Since the boys are gone, Ms. King agreed to let her
stay here.”

As
Kyle and I head to the door to go over to Ms. King’s trailer, the phone rings.
We are about to shut the door, when Ms. Nell shouts out that Aunt Evie fell off
the porch and for us to hurry over. We take off in a run. Sure enough, when we
get there poor Aunt Evie is laid out in the yard, moaning while she holds her
upper thigh.

Before
I can wrap my mind around what’s happened, Kyle and I are speeding behind the
ambulance on our way to the hospital. The emergency room isn’t busy, so luckily
they get on Aunt Evie quickly. We find out within a half hour that she has
broken her hip in two spots and needs emergency surgery. I sign off on the
surgery as they wheel her by us. Everything happens so fast. I think we are
both still in shock, so my brother and I shuffle numbly to the waiting room.
Within minutes, I snap out of my fog and pull my phone out.

I
turn to Kyle as I call him a cab. He’s shaking his head and running his hands
through his shaggy blond curls.

“Yes
you are going. You can still make the flight.” I push him out the door so we
can gather his luggage from the Mustang.

“No.
Dillon is going to be crushed. You should be the one to go.” Kyle looks
miserable at us being in this predicament. I’m right miserable myself about it
too, but there’s no other way around it.

“Dillon
will get over it. You know it needs to be me to stay and take care of her.”
Kyle is still shaking his head. “Enough now. You’re going, and that’s it.” I
have to practically shove him in the cab. He hesitantly agrees to go. As the
cab pulls off, my brother looks at me, brokenhearted. I know it’s the right
thing to do in making him go. He’ll appreciate it one day, or maybe he already
does.

After
I get Kyle to leave for the concert trip, I go to the designated room they will
place Aunt Evie in after the surgery, for what they think will be a week’s
stay. An hour passes when Dillon calls to check on her. I explain that she’s
still in surgery and that I’m sorry to miss the concert. He’s sad, but
understands. This is my life. Aunt Evie is my life. I have to take care of her,
and he agrees, completely but sadly.

They
deliver a groggy Aunt Evie to her room later this afternoon. She’s barely able
to keep her eyes open. It pains me to see her look so frail and surprisingly
old. This is a look I’ve never seen her wear, and I don’t like it one bit. It
just doesn’t suit her at all. It’s a reality check that I’m not sure I’m ready
to handle.

“Your
trip…” she moans, but I interrupt her.

“No
worries. You know I wouldn’t leave you. Kyle has gone ahead. I had to
practically beat him out the door.” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re
so loyal… So dedicated to me.” She slurs her words as she speaks. She’s making
me exhausted just looking at her. Her eyes slowly shut, but moments later she
cracks them open and continues with her line of thought. “I’ve never had that
in my life.” She smiles weakly, and I think about her husband abandoning her.
Poor Aunt Evie never deserved to be treated that way. And she’s always the one
to be there, loyal and dedicated for everyone else. They don’t make ’em as good
as Aunt Evie anymore.

“I
won’t ever leave you.” I hold the hand not bound in IV tubes and tape, and give
her a genuine smile.

She
looks at me with a weak smile. “That’s what I’m afraid of, sweetheart.” She
dozes back off before I can reply. I don’t even know what I would say to that.

“I
love you,” I whisper and place a kiss on her forehead. This woman deserves to
be loved more than she has. This thought saddens me. I hunker down in the guest
chair and watch her sleep. I can only hope I am half the woman she is.

Two
days pass quickly with nurses coming and going at all hours. They get Aunt Evie
up as much as possible. She’s a good sport about it, but I see the pain etched
all over her face. She goes quite pale also until they can deliver another
round of pain meds. She’s a tough cookie. She won’t take the meds unless
absolutely needed. I come and go between the hospital and the trailer park. Ms.
Nell has been a godsend with keeping things on track with the camping rentals.
Weekends are always busy, even in the cooler months. This is the Deep South,
you know. I’ve stayed way too busy to dwell on missing the concert. Kyle sent
me some pictures he snapped during it and some back stage, as well as some at
the hotel he and the guys stayed at. The plan was to arrive one night early so
that when the band arrived the next day, we would have the entire day together.
Then after the concert, they would hang out at the hotel until they had to pull
out around four the next morning. It was a rushed trip, but it was one I was
willing to take. I’m just glad Kyle got to go. He’s been moping around here
like a sad little puppy that’s lost all of his buddies. And he did in fact lose
them all, in one shot, that New Years’ night.

Life
sure is challenging. Focus is key. I focus on the business of the trailer park.
I focus on the business of getting Aunt Evie better and things lined up for her
to go home hopefully soon. And I focus on the fact that my brother got such an
awesome gift this weekend. As long as I don’t focus any attention on myself, I
can overlook my own heartache. I don’t have time to be selfish at the moment.

I
leave the hospital to grab Kyle from the airport. When he emerges from the
crowd in the terminal, I can’t believe what I see. I burst out in a fit of
laughter. “What happened to your eyebrows? They’re gone!”

Kyle
rolls his eyes. “A parting gift from the one and only Max King.” I give him a
quick hug before we walk over to claim his one bag of luggage, and I can’t help
but snicker at him. “Stop staring at me,” he says playfully. It’s been a while
since he was a part of an infamous Bleu Streak prank. And I’m no fool. My
brother is quite pleased with this.

“So,
how was it?” I ask once we are heading to my car.

“Awesome!
The guys are getting better, if you can believe that’s even possible. They’ve
got quite a following already.” He tosses his bag in the trunk and then grabs
me up in a bear hug. “The guys say to give you this for the new songs. Dillon
said to give you a big ole kiss, but I declined. I told him I can get Hudson to
take care of the kissing for me.” A smirk comes over Kyle’s face as he pushes
back his sleeve and reveals a nasty bruise. “A parting gift from Dillon.”

I
laugh. “Ouch. I guess you earned that one.” Man, I wish I had been in the midst
of their chaos this weekend.

“I’ve
got a whole sack full of Bleu Streak T-shirts and hoodies and some other junk.
Dillon says you better wear them daily,” Kyle says, as we load up in the car
and peel out of the airport parking lot.

We
head straight to the hospital to check on Aunt Evie. I tell Kyle the doctor
says we can take her home in another day or two, but she will have to have
physical therapy. We push through the doors of her room and are immediately
greeted with bouquets upon bouquets of flowers. They are exquisite and have all
been delivered in the last hour. I inspect the cards on the bouquets as Kyle
catches up with Aunt Evie. She’s already ragging him on his face sans eyebrows.
Each card has some silly old fart joke and are all from none other than Dillon
and the band. I smile at the sweetness of this. I swipe the entire collection
of cards before perching on the side of her bed. I then set in on a comedic act
for the next hour or so, and we end up laughing until we cry.

I’m
bummed I didn’t get to go see Dillon, but there was no way around it. I’m
encouraged that Dillon and I may be able to come out on the other side of this
life trial and still be together. This young man has my heart. I just don’t
think I could ever give it to someone else.