by T. I. Lowe
“Dude.” Mave taps his watch before they disappear.
“I wish you could come with me,” he says again as he pulls me in for another kiss. He grabs my hair with his fists and tugs me even closer.
We already had this conversation about a million times in the last week. Kyle needs to finish the last two years of high school, and I need to stay here and make sure that happens. I have a commitment here to help Aunt Evie, too. The years are catching up to my great-aunt. After all she has done for me and my brother, I can’t just disappear in the night like the boys can. I have responsibilities that I cannot just walk away from.
“I’ll call you soon,” Dillon says as he retrieves his shirt from the floor and pulls it back on. My insides seize up, but I hold it together.
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 th
e 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.