Believe Me, It's You

by S. A. Cook

  “Hi,” she said, trying to follow the movie and pay attention to him at the same time.

  “How did your party go?” he asked.

  “It was fun. We went to a club. It was really nice.” She was still watching the screen. The main character was about to find out who her stalker was.

  “Oh yeah? What time did you get home?” Dylan was asking.

  “About an hour ago,” she said.

  “That's pretty late, for you,” he said.

  “Yeah, it is.” She was trying to focus on him and the movie.

  “So, did anything happen?” he asked.

  “Hmm? Like what?” she asked.

  “Did you meet anyone new?” he asked, sounding a little impatient now.

  “No, what?” she turned down the television. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you're obviously not that into me, anymore,”he sounded aggravated. “I thought maybe you met someone you liked talking to better at the club tonight.”

  “What are you talking about, Dylan?” she said. “I didn't meet anyone I liked better. As a matter of fact, I met someone I didn't like better, so I told him I was engaged, and set him up with my girlfriend.” He was quiet for a minute.

  “So you met a guy tonight,” he said. “Did you go there looking to meet someone?” This conversation was going badly. She'd never seen his jealous side before. She took a deep breath and chose her words carefully.

  “Dylan,” she said, making sure he was calm and listening.

  “Yes?” he sounded calmer.

  “I love you,” she said. “I didn't go out to meet someone. I would have been happy sitting home, waiting to hear from you. Why? Because I love you. One man spoke to me. I lied and told him I was engaged, and he left me alone. My friend Jessica ended up with his number. End of story. I don't care if I ever talk to another man again. Why not? Because I love you.” He didn't say anything for what seemed like a full minute.

  “Okay,” he said. “I'm sorry. You sounded like you didn't want to talk to me. I hate being so far away.”

  “Because I was waiting to see who this stalker was in this stupid movie I was watching,” she said. “While I waited up for you to call. It doesn't matter.”

  “I'm sorry, Eva,” he said. “I don't have a right to expect you to stay home and wait for me to call. I was at KRUNK L.A. doing a two hour radio show. I'm tired, I guess. And lonely.”

  “It's okay,” she said. “Just don't be jealous. Believe me, I'm only thinking about you. So how did it go?”

  “It was really good,” he said. “I actually had fun this time. The dj there is really cool. He's interested in helping me transition from pop to R&B. He's a good person to know in the business.”

  “That's great, Dylan,” she said. “Are you resting tomorrow?”

  “No, I've got to go to Las Vegas tomorrow. I have three radio interviews. Monday I have a quick appearance on the Karen Show. Then, I have two interviews Monday night. But Tuesday, I've got a flight to Chicago at 6:00 am L. A. time. The guy's meeting me in Chicago with the rental car. I should be at your place by 1, and Grandma wants us there by 5:00 for dinner.”

  “God, what a schedule,” she said. “You're going to want to spend your whole holiday sleeping.”

  “Nah, that's why it's good to conquer the world when you're young. A few hours of sleep and I'll be fine,” he said. “I just want to see you.”

  “I miss you, Dylan,” she said. “I've been thinking about what you said.”

  “Which?” he asked.

  “About maybe I should move out to L.A.” she said, trying to feel him out—see if the offer was still on the table.

  “That'd be so awesome, Eva.” He sounded excited. “I'd love having you here all the time.”

  “I know I still wouldn't see you a lot, you know, with your tour and all that,” she said. “But at least you'd be home part of the time.”

  “I'd be home pretty often,” he said. “And there's no reason you can't come on the road with me. You can take your laptop and write.”

  “I don't know. Maybe...,” she said.

  “We can figure it all out,” he said. “Just think about coming out here after the holidays.”

  “I will,” she said.

  “You make me so happy, Eva.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Sunday afternoon, Eva got an email from a post she'd put online. She was looking for a guitar for Dylan for Christmas. It was a custom guitar and there were only 100 made, and only 5 were left-handed. And Dylan was left-handed. She had given up ever finding one for sale, and was planning to go shopping on Monday to try to find something else. She was thrilled to see the email, and immediately called the man.

  “Yes, it's beautiful,” he told her over the phone. “It has some minor wear on the frets, but the body is perfect. I didn't play it, much.” Eva couldn't believe her luck.

  “How much are you asking for it?” she said, trying not to sound tentative.

  “Well, I'm gonna need $18,000 for it,” he said. “That's a fair price. You can price them online..”

  “I'm sure. The only problem is, I have a budget,” she chose her words carefully. If she had to dig into her book money and pay $18,000, she would. That's how much she knew Dylan would love it. But she was going to try to talk him down.

  “I could probably do $14,000, but it's going to be a stretch,” she said.

  “Well, ma'am, the thing is I'm trying to buy my wife a car for Christmas. Hers died a month ago. I would have to get at least $17,000 for it,” he said. Yeah, he's willing to bargain.

  “I might be able to scrape together $15,500, but that's all I can do,” she said.

  “Could you do $16,000?” he said.

  “Sold,” she said. “I think I can come up with that.”

  “Did you want to come get it?” he asked.

  “Where are you?” Eva asked. She hadn't recognized the area code.

  “Louisville,” he said. “Or you could wire me the money and I could ship it to you. If I overnight it, you should have it sometime Tuesday.” That sounded risky on too many levels for Eva. If she drove to Louisville, she could probably be there in 4 hours. Then four hours back. But she had to get that guitar for Dylan.

  She got all the information from the man, his full name for a money order, his address, and some rough directions. Now all she needed was a car. She called Marta.

  “Are you crazy?” Marta screeched into the phone. “Eva, I can't drive you to Louisville and back two days before Christmas. I've got stuff to do.”

  “Please, Marta. I know it's a lot to ask,” Eva said. “I think I can do something for you...” Eva thought as fast as she could.

  “Like what?” Marta asked.

  “I think I can get you a shirt worn by Dylan. And signed,” she said, hoping Dylan would go along with the plan, once he saw the guitar on Christmas morning.

  “Oh god, Eva,” Marta said. “You owe me.”

  “Okay,” Eva said. “I owe you. You can sell it on eBay if you want.”

  “I'll pick you up in an hour,” she said. “You're buying my meals and gas.”

  “Absolutely,” Eva said.

  Marta made excellent time getting to Louisville. They found the restaurant where the man was meeting them with the guitar, and Eva was relieved to see how beautiful it was. The man had all the paperwork for the guitar and gladly accepted her money order. Marta and Eva grabbed a quick bite at the restaurant and the man had coffee with them. He told them some great stories about his days in Nashville as a session musician. All in all, it wasn't such a bad trip and they were back in Chicago by 11pm. Eva collapsed in bed and slept like a baby, knowing Dylan was going to love his Christmas present.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Monday went fast. Eva spent the day finishing up some Christmas shopping. She bought gifts for Dylan's family and brought them home to wrap. She was sending a large basket of treats to Sarah and Jack, and she sent her brother and Blane a box of Chicago goodies s
he knew they couldn't get in California. Finished with Christmas duties, she concentrated on packing for the trip to Dylan's grandparents' house tomorrow.

  Later that evening, she built a fire in her fireplace and made a real dinner for herself. She sat in front of the fire and ate, a Christmas movie playing in the background. She felt good and didn't mind that she was alone. She knew Dylan was coming tomorrow. She made sure the apartment was tidy, knowing she'd be gone for at least a week, and went to bed. Her phone woke her up at midnight.

  “Did I wake you?” Dylan said. “I tried to get a few minutes to call earlier, but it just didn't happen.”

  “It's okay,” she said. “I just got in bed. I built a fire tonight, and I had to stay up until it was out.”

  “A fire? By yourself?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said. “Don't you ever build a fire when you're home alone?”

  “Yeah, I guess I did when I first got the house,” he said. “These days, I'm not home enough for anything. My studio's still not finished, and I haven't had time to find the right equipment, or have it installed. I'm tired all the time. I tried to call you yesterday, but it went to voice mail. I didn't leave a message.”

  “Oh,” she tried to think fast. “I drove to Louisville with Marta, yesterday.”

  “Louisville? Kentucky?” he sounded baffled.

  “Yeah, we had to go,” she tried not to sound sneaky. “It was a Christmas thing.”

  “In Louisville?”

  “Yes. Please don't ask,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said, sounding too tired to pry any further. “Anyhow, I'm leaving L.A. at 6 tomorrow morning.

  “Okay, I'll be ready before noon,” she said.

  “I can't wait to see you again,” he said. “I miss you. It's lonely out here.”

  “You have people around you all the time.” She tried to sound cheery. “How can you say it's lonely?”

  “I don't know. People you work with are different than friends,” he said. “I'm lonely when I'm not with you. And I'm getting tired of missing you.”

  “I miss you, too,” she said. “I'm so glad I'm not going to be alone this Christmas.”

  “What did you do last Christmas?” he asked.

  “Well, nothing,” she said. “I spent it alone.”

  “What?” he said. “What about your friend Sarah?”

  “They go to Minneapolis to Jack's parents' house,” she said. “I don't have any family living, except Jacob and Blane...and we weren't talking then. So I just hung out at home.”

  “Eva, that's the saddest thing I've ever heard,” he said.

  “Come on, it's not the saddest.” She tried to laugh. “I survived.”

  “I wish I knew you then,” he said. “I would have spent Christmas and New Years with you.”

  “You wouldn't have liked me then,” she said. “I was kind of miserable.”

  “Yeah, I would have,” he said. “I would have done whatever I had to do to make you smile.” She didn't say anything. She felt grateful for him.

  “Eva,” he said. “I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I need to get some sleep now. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she said. “Have a safe flight.”

  “I will,” he said. “And believe me, you never have to spend another holiday alone.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Eva was ready by 9 am. She got a text from Dylan at 4 am Chicago time saying he was leaving L.A. She got showered and dressed, had coffee and some breakfast, took her mailbox key to her neighbor so he could collect her mail and gave him a gift card she'd bought for him for Christmas. She put all the presents she'd gotten for Dylan's family in a couple shopping bags, and put Grandpa's name on the large, rectangular box she wrapped the guitar in, case and all. She didn't want Dylan to guess what it was. She was going to switch it out with Dylan's name after they got to Indianapolis. She sat down and waited impatiently.

  At 11:40, she heard a knock on the door. She looked through the peep hole. It was Dylan. She swung the door open and grabbed him by the coat, pulling him into the apartment.

  “Hi,” he laughed.

  She slammed the door shut behind him, and put her arms around him and squeezed hard. He hugged her back. He pulled away just enough to give her a kiss on the mouth. His lips were cold and he smelled like snow.

  “I missed you,” he said. “I missed you so much.” Eva pulled his coat open and buried her head in his chest, smelling his cologne, feeling his heart beat under the thin sweater he was wearing. He laughed and hugged her tighter.

  “Did you miss me, Eva?” he whispered in her ear. He felt her nod against his chest. She moved back and looked up at him. He bent down and kissed her forehead. “I missed you, too. But I'm here now. And I'm early.”

  “You didn't use your key,” she said.

  “I did downstairs, but I didn't want to scare you, so I knocked..”he said.

  “I'm packed, if you want to go now,” she said.

  “I'm double parked,” he said, walking over to the window and looking down at the street. “If we're fast, we could make love before I get towed.”

  “I don't think that's a good idea, Dylan,” she said, taking a moment to consider it. “The day's gonna be shot if you have to get the car out of impound on Christmas Eve.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” he said. “Let's go.” They lugged her bags and the presents down to the car.

  “Do you want me to drive?” she asked. “You could sleep on the way.”

  “No, I'm fine,” he said. “I slept on the plane.”

  They made great time once they got on the highway. Dylan spent the trip talking about the interviews he'd done and the favorable reviews the album was getting. He was excited to sing the new single on New Year's Eve, even though it wasn't his favorite song.

  “Calvin thinks it'll get a lot of airplay,” he said. “It's definitely not the best song, but that's how the record company wants it, so...”

  “Don't you have any say?” she asked.

  “Yeah, but I'd have to make a big deal out of it, make threats...it's not worth it. You have to pick your battles, you know,” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I think you're so smart, Dylan.”

  “Why?” he looked at her.

  “You're really wise about a lot of things,” she said. “I was so stupid when I was 21.”

  “No...you went to the University of Chicago,” he said. “I know you're smart.”

  “I wasn't wise, though,” she said. “There's a difference.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said. “Did you know I have an aptitude for languages?”

  “Really?” she said. She didn't know he spoke any foreign languages, but then again, it had never come up.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I can order a Big Mac and fries in five different languages.”

  “You are smart!” she laughed. “You spend too much time on the road.”

  “I do,” he said.

  When they got to Dylan's grandparents' house they were greeted at the door by both Grandma and Grandpa. They hugged Eva like she'd been a part of the family forever. She and Dylan carried the presents in and put them under the tree. Dylan brought in both their bags and carried them into the hall.

  “Grandma, can I just sleep in my own room with Eva, this time?” she heard him ask in the hallway.

  “No, Dylan,” she said. “You know I can't encourage that in my house.”

  “Grandma...” he groaned. “I don't think I can take that army cot. It killed my back last time. And I have to perform in a week.”

  “Well, you're in luck. Ellen brought her inflatable mattress over, so you can sleep on that,” she said. “It's really comfortable, Ellen said.” Eva tried not to laugh.

  “Okay, whatever Grandma,” he sounded like a grounded fourteen year old.

  Grandma finished cooking dinner and wouldn't let Eva help. They all sat down and enjoyed a great meal. Dylan stretched out on the couch to watch a Christmas movie with Gr
andpa.

  “Just like old times, huh Son?” Eva heard Grandpa say. She could hear the happiness in his voice. They must miss him so much. She helped Grandma clean up after dinner and when she went back into the living room, both Dylan and Grandpa were sound asleep. Grandpa was snoring loudly, but Dylan was silent.

  “Carl!” Grandma said when she saw him sleeping. “Carl! Wake up! We have midnight mass in two hours.” Dylan woke up and sat up on the couch. Grandpa stirred.

  “Okay, Katy,” he said, eyes still closed. “I'm up.”

  “You and Eva are going, too, aren't you?” she said to Dylan.

  “Grandma, I'm beat,” he said. “I've been so busy. I won't be able to stay awake through a two hour mass.”

  “Oh, alright,” she sighed. “You stay here.”

  “Eva's tired, too,” he said, grinning at Eva. “She can't go. She doesn't even speak Latin.”

  “Don't be smart, Dylan,” Grandma said. “It's Christmas Eve.”

  “I'm sorry, Grandma,” he said.

  Carl and Katy left for mass at 11:00. Dylan disappeared down the hall and Eva went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. When she came out of the bathroom, Dylan called to her from his old room. She walked in to find him lying on his old bed, his shirt and pants off, but still wearing a pair of knit boxers.

  “Eva,” he said. “Would you like to give me an early Christmas present?” he grinned.

  “I don't know,” she said, standing by the edge of the bed. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I was just thinking about all the time I spent lying on this bed, when I was a kid. You know, thinking about girls,” he grinned. “I was thinking maybe you could make some of those old fantasies come true.”

  “Yeah?” she said. “What about your grandparents? What if they come home early?”

  “They're gone for hours,” he said. “Grandma goes to mass in town, so there's an hour's drive, and finding a place to park. Then, it's a full mass, so that's another hour or two. And then they have to drive home. I figure we have a minimum of three hours.”