Goodbyes and Second Chances (The Bleu Series Book 1) (20 page)

Dillon had
pulled me out the back door of the church after excusing our few guests that
night and placed us in the very spot we had shared that first kiss. He held me
and whispered how incredible it had been to finally love me the way he had
wanted to for so long.

He had
tilted my head back, and while skimming his fingers along my cheek, he
whispered, “I want that kiss back now.” We kissed and then danced in the
moonlight of that abandoned church parking lot. He sang as we danced and then
not being able to get close enough, decided it was time for the honeymoon. A
night I carry with me daily. To be loved by Dillon Bleu is such a divine
treasure.

I was so
excited that I was finally going to get to keep Dillon forever, after years of
coming to terms of him not being attainable. He wanted me and that was all I
focused on until the next morning when Cora showed up to serve me up a healthy
serving of reality. Yes, she forced my hand to let him go, but we both had only
wanted the best for her son. I don’t think Dillon thought that choice of
marrying me that night all the way through, anyway. We were so naïve, and I’m
still facing the consequences of that.

I walk over
to the armoire and pull out the small keepsake box that holds two treasures
dear to my heart—my wedding ring and our wedding certificate. I open the lid
and pull out the emerald and diamond ring. I place a kiss on the cool, smooth
stone before slipping it on my finger for the first time since the wedding. It
still fits perfectly. More tears trickle down my face as I try unsuccessfully
to figure out how to fix everything. I just don’t know how, so I slip the ring
back off and put it back away for now.

Chapter Seventeen

So I’m married… With an
estranged husband. Only months after mine and Cora’s final spat, a lawyer
showed up at my door. I thought for sure it was for an annulment, but ended up
being a confidentiality agreement for me to sign. It stated that I was not
allowed to share any personal information pertaining to any member of Bleu
Streak. Those papers had Cora written all over them. I would never share
anything about them, so I agreed to sign the papers without any qualms to prove
it. Everything stinks. Things can’t get any worse. Right? Wrong. Things can
always be worse.

Even
though Dillon has not been here this week, the media thinks differently. I’ve
been trying to convince them otherwise, but they ain’t having it. Luckily,
Dillon left the guards on duty while he’s been gone. We’ve only had minimal
intruders to kick out. The headlines vary from ROCKER DILLON BLEU HIDES OUT IN
NONE OTHER THAN A TRAILER PARK to THE WORLD IS BLEU WITH DILLON HIDING.
Pictures of his empty boat are normally paired with these headlines. To my
embarrassment, photos of us getting cozy on his boat are floating around too.
ROCK LEGEND BLEU SPOTTED WITH A MYSTERY WOMAN. I laugh at being called a
mystery. I’m sure with some more digging they will find out I’m just an
ordinary nobody who’s far from mysterious.

 
Boy, am I glad Will hasn’t got wind of it. He
knows about the uproar around town about the celebrity hanging out. He just
doesn’t know the celebrity has been hanging out with me and the celebrity in
question is none other than my husband. Things are going to get worse! I’m
still trying to decide how to break it to him about Dillon.

We’ve had
our own uproar, white-trash style. Tuesday night, Brina’s own estranged
husband, Bubba, decides to show up, drunk as a skunk. Before he even made it to
her, the idiot crashed a golf cart in the pool, taking out some of my lounge
chairs along the way. How he got ahold of it is still a little unclear. Somehow
he entered the back gate on foot. I guess he got tired of walking and stole the
cart from one of the RV residences. The drunk ended up getting over to her and
commenced to beating the daylights out of her sister, thinking it was Brina.
That’s how wasted he was. So Brina jumps him from behind, and the next thing I
know, I’m in the midst of it, and all three of us going redneck style on him
and beating him with anything we could get our hands on. The old trailer rocked
in protest as we bounced around the small space. I ended up cracking him over
the head with a beer bottle to bring the fiasco to an end. Luckily all the kids
were down at the pier for s’mores night with Jen.

The cops
eventually showed up to haul him away and actually looked the other way when it
came to our bruised knuckles. That is definitely a first in these parts. It was
dawn by the time we had Brina’s small trailer squared back away from the broken
glass and overturned furniture. All the kids spent the following day and night
with me and Will, while she got her bearings back.

The golf
cart got fished out of the pool the next morning, but drowned completely.
Luckily my insurance covered it, and a new cart was delivered to the campers
this morning. Boy, has it been one heck of a time around here the past two
weeks. Jen wanted some pizazz. Well, girlfriend surely got it!

The entire
week passes with no word from Dillon. I’m worried about Mave. Feeling helpless,
I called Kyle yesterday to see what he knows. We talk in code for a while with
him deciphering. He only told me what I already knew about Mave, but then he
wanted to know about me and Dillon.

“Did he
meet Will yet?” Kyle asked. I wish he didn’t.

“No. Not
yet,” I answered hesitantly.

“It’s time
to clear the air, Jillian. And you know it.”

“I know.
I’m just scared how it’s going to turn out.” I fidgeted at my desk while we
were on the phone. “I sure wish you were here,” I said while trying not to cry.
I really do miss him. It would be nice if he were here for me to lean on.

Leave it
to Kyle to say the wrong thing. “Me too. I’d love to see the crap hit the fan!”
he said while laughing.

“It ain’t
funny!” I can’t believe he was actually joking about it.

“On this
side of the phone, it’s hilarious. Jillian and her little soap opera. I never
thought you to be the drama type.” He tsked and continued laughing, so I hung
up on him. Jerk. Typical little brother jerk. I guess success in the Capital
doesn’t get rid of that.

I head
back to the new cabin this afternoon with the last load of odds and ends, and
am putting things away in the kitchen when I hear the door open and close.
Dillon wanders into the kitchen moments later. He seems a bit distant and
tired. He’s a few days past needing a shave, and his clothes look as though he
might have slept in them.

“How’s
Mave?” I ask. I really want to go check on him myself, but I know that’s not a
good idea at the moment.

“Some
better,” he says evenly as he stands by the counter. I wipe my hands on my
ratty jeans and face him. I want to give him a hug, but think better of it and
stay put. He eyes my bare hand and a shadow crosses his face. He takes this as
my decision and I literally watch him crumble. Tears are in his eyes. “I can’t
live without you,” he whispers.

“You deserve
better than me. I’m a nobody.” I hold my bruised up knuckles. “White trash.”

He grabs
hold of my bruised hand and places kisses on my knuckles. “No. You’re the one
that deserves better, Jewels. And I’ve work hard so I can give it to you.
Please. You deserve better than this trailer park.”

“I can’t
just walk away like you did. Everyone got an opportunity—you, the twins, Leona,
and even Kyle. Not me!” I clutch my chest as I heave the words out. I don’t
know why I immediately go on the defense. Guilt, I guess.

“You get
it now. Put this place behind you and give our marriage a chance. Please,” he
begs as he grips my shoulders.

“You think
I could ever live with myself, if I put all of these people on the streets?” I
motion in the direction of the trailers. “If I walk away, that’s what’s going
to happen.”

I turn
away, but Dillon pulls me back to face him. “Then find someone to manage it.
I’m not leaving this time without you. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

I know
it’s getting dangerously close to Will’s arrival. I need to figure out how to
get Dillon to leave. “I need to think things through… I need some time… I need
you to leave, now.” I nudge him towards the living room. “Please.”

I leave
him standing in the living room and I head back to the kitchen. I’m silently
begging him to leave and hold my breath until I hear the front door open and
close. I let out the breath I was holding in a long shudder before hearing Will
shout out playfully, “Honey, I’m home!” That’s when I hear a loud thud on the
floor and rush into the living room.

I find
Dillon on his knees, clutching his stomach as he stares down at Will. Will
stares curiously back at him. Brina is standing at the door and is taking in
the scene. She glances at me before she scurries off quickly.

The guys
are having some sort of stare down. Will finally gives in first and scoots over
to me. He holds his little arms out to me and I scoop him up and place him on
my hip. I look at my little boy, trying to gauge his reaction. He takes my face
in his tiny hands and directs my attention back to the man kneeling on the
floor. He whispers loudly, “Mommy, that man has my eyes.” My little guy doesn’t
miss much.

I watch
those deep-blue eyes fill with tears and shock. “No baby. You have his eyes,” I
correct. Dillon looks to be at his breaking point. He’s pale and still
clutching his stomach. “I’m um… Will, do you want to go play at Ms. Brina’s for
a while?”

“Yay!” he
cheers.

I rush out
the front door still holding him, not knowing what else to do. I drop him off
and rush back to the cabin to find Dillon in the exact same spot as I left him,
only now he is weeping. I kneel in front of him and wait.

Several
long minutes pass before his hoarse voice cuts the anxious silence in a harsh
bite. “How could you, Jillian?” He’s called me Jillian and it punches me in the
stomach. The magnitude of my mistake is making me nauseous.

“How could
I?” I ask back. “How could I not, Dillon?” My words come out harsh as well. “I
couldn’t be the ruin of your career.” I place my hands on his knees.

“But he’s
my son.”
 
He’s crying, and it’s tearing
my heart out. He stands abruptly. “I’ve lost years I can never get back.” He
scrubs his hands over his tense face.

I defend
my actions, trying my best to get him to understand. “You were just starting
out! I couldn’t let you be trapped here with me, working at the tire factory or
something and growing bitter along the way. I would have ruined you.”

“You did
ruin me!” he says. His deep voice seems to explode in the room as angry thick
tears plop onto his shirt. “I made vows to you before God. You were all I
wanted and then you treated me as you’ve always hated being treated. You threw
me away like I was trash!”

He has it
all wrong. I shake my head vigorously. “No—.”

Dillon
cuts into my explanation. “Now I find out you’ve kept my child, my son, from me
for close to five years?”

“I tried
to tell you, but you kept interrupting and my words kept coming out wrong.”

“No! Not
now. Way back then. You knew how to reach me… Not one time!” He pauses and
shakes his index finger in the air. “Not one time did you try! What? Am I not
good enough for y’all?” Dillon is irate and is falling apart quickly. It’s
scaring me. He is pacing in hasty circles with his hands grasping his hips
tensely.

I grab his
arm to get him to focus on me. “No. Listen to me Dillon. It’s me! All me! I’m
not good enough! I swear to you. And I thought a baby would have just gotten in
your way more. All I ever wanted, and will ever want, is you. I just didn’t
know how to make it work. You deserve better than me.” My voice is hoarse and I
can barely squeak the words out.

He shakes
his head. “You just don’t get it, do you? A measure of a man’s worth ain’t by
his wallet size. A measure of a man’s worth is what’s in his heart.” He steps
closer and places his hand over my heart. It’s hammering away and my ears are
ringing. He shakes his head. “You’ve thought all this time you were gifting,
but all you’ve done is rob me of the biggest treasures of my life. You stole my
heart and robbed me of my own son.”

“I didn’t
mean to. Please Dillon. I just want to make this right…”

He pulls
his arm out of my grasp. “I can’t even think right now. I just don’t think
there’s a way to right this.” Without another word, Dillon stalks out of the
house and slams the door fiercely.

As the
door slams, I bow my head to the floor and beg God to help me make this right.
I cry until I can cry no more.

Oh how I
wish Aunt Evie was here to help me clean up this mess I have made. Life without
her anchoring me has been excruciating. It’s stinging so bad at this moment
that I can hardly breathe. My mind plays back in a quick reel of the last five
difficult years. They were a struggle that I felt I wouldn’t survive some days.

I hid my
pregnancy for as long as I could, but Will seemed to be growing straight out,
and so at only six months in there was no hiding it. Jen did all my business
outside of the trailer park so I could hide out. The residents here were more
sympathetic than judgmental. I guess in their minds I was just another trailer
park statistic. If Aunt Evie would have been here, she would have told me to
hold my head high, but as it was, most days I didn’t see no farther than my
shoes.

Kyle came
home and was by my side the morning my son was born into this world. With
school, he was only able to stay a few days until I was released from the
hospital. Jen and Leona stepped in and kept a close eye on me and Will. The
short spells that I found myself alone, I spent that time crying. I don’t know
if it was postpartum depression, or me mourning the loss of Dillon and Aunt
Evie and wanting so badly for them to still be a part of my life. I was so
scared. I had no idea what to do with a baby and was terrified I would mess up.
But loving Will had been the easiest thing. It all felt natural after I got
over the first mom jitters. I felt like I was thrown into so many life changes
all at once, I was beyond worried about providing for him all by myself.
Eventually I ran out of tears and grew a thicker skin for my child’s sake.

* * * *

Nearly an
hour later, I shuffle to the bathroom to wash the hurt off my face so I can go
get Will and try to fix things.

I ride my
golf cart over and knock on Brina’s door. She opens it and looks at me
curiously. I clear my throat, “Thanks for watching Will. Can you tell him it’s
time to go?”

“He’s not
here. Dillon picked him up.”

“Brina!
How could you just hand my son over to someone without my permission?”

“Hello!
Dillon Bleu!” She says this like that’s supposed to make it okay.

I don’t
say another word. I just storm off before I punch her. The pit of my stomach is
on fire with anxiety. I head towards the office in a sprint. I don’t know what
to do. I’m not ruling out the idea of calling the police. I round the corner
and hear them before I see them. Relief floods over me as I spot Dillon and
Will hunkered down underneath our favorite willow tree with Dillon playing the
theme song to
SpongeBob SquarePants
on his guitar. Will is grinning as he claps his hands to the beat. I stop dead
in my tracks and watch.