by T. I. Lowe
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 bac
k 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.
When the song ends, Will begs, “Play another one, please!” Dillon obliges and starts playing one of his hit songs.
Will starts singing along and Dillon stops playing in amazement. “How do you know this song, little man?”
“My mommy has a crush on the band. Her listens to them all the time,” he says. This makes Dillon chuckle. He musses Will’s hair and starts playing again, but this time he is playing “My Jewel.” Will jumps up and down. “That’s her favoritest!”
Dillon looks towards me to let me know he’s aware I’m here. He points at me and Will looks in my direction too. I walk over and sit with them.
“Mommy, he can really play that guitar good,” Will says in awe. This makes Dillon and I laugh.
“Will, run over to the ice cream hut and get yourself a Popsicle.”
He hops up and the scurries over to the little stand at the edge of the pier. This is something new I just recently added. We watch as he climbs on one of the stools and asks for cherry limeade.
“You always knew how hard it was on me to not have my dad,” Dillon whispers as his eyes stay trained on Will. “How could you do that to our son?” He has no intentions of letting me off easy on this. I can’t blame him either.
“I’m sorry. I never thought it would take so long for you to come back. It’s like you said, life got busy and time slipped by.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “Will?” he asks. He glances over at me sideways before focusing back on our son.
“I named him that because he gave me the will to keep it together.”
Dillon scoffs at this.
“You were gone, and I lost Aunt Evie and became a mom all in one year. So yes, our son gave me the will to go on.”
“Jewels, you didn’t have to go through any of that alone. You made that choice.” He runs his hands through his hair and smiles weakly. “A honeymoon baby. That’s a special gift.”
I can barely swallow from all of the emotions whirling around me. “I’ve always thought so. I thought that maybe… Maybe if I couldn’t ever get you back, I at least would always have a part of you.” I look over at the spitting image of him. The little guy is swinging his legs as he enjoys his Popsicle.
“We need to tell my mom. She has a right to know too.”
I snort at this and he glares at me questionably. “She already knows, Dillon. Who do you think talked me into letting you go?”
“How? Why?” His eyebrows are pinched in confusion. Then acute anger takes over his features.
I shake my head, knowing it will only make things worse.
“Tell me.” He nearly growls under his breath. He’s close to losing his cool again.
“Cora showed up that morning after we got married and told me to give you a chance with your career. Said I would only get in the way of that. And you know what Dillon? She was absolutely right. She came back for Aunt Evie’s funeral and knew right away. I tried hiding it under a frumpy dress.” I feel Dillon’s eyes boring into me, but can’t bring myself to look at him. “She did what she knew was right for her son. I understand that now. Please don’t be mad at her. Just be mad at me.”
“You’re stronger willed than that, Jillian. What did my mother do?” He eyes me and is beckoning the truth out of me.
I clear my throat. “She said the papers wouldn’t take too kindly to our romance. Especially the part where it began with you a minor and me already a legal adult.”
He rubs his face roughly with his hands. “I can’t believe this. Sixteen and eighteen,” He shakes his head at the absurdity of it. “We never did anything inappropriate.”
“Cora said the media wouldn’t see it that way,” I whisper. We sit silently for a while before I speak again. “I promise I wanted nothing more than to be your wife and to go with you. But everything, and I mean everything, was against it. First Cora, then I found out I was pregnant, and then Aunt Evie died. No matter how badly I wanted you, it seemed to not be in God’s favor.”
Dillon lets out a long frustrated breath. “Mave is being moved to another facility. Word is leaking out so I’ve got to go take care of some business out of town.” He grabs hold of my arm. “Look at me, Jillian.” I look up. “Will is mine and I’ve got a lot of time to make up for with my son. You need to decide if you’re going to be on board with that. ‘Cause it’s happening with or without you.” With the stern warning, he gets up and walks over to Will. He perches on a stool and shares a Popsicle with our son. I watch until their treats are gone and Dillon is swooping Will up and is carrying him over to me. This giant of a man carrying our bundle of a treasure in his strong arms—it’s an image I never want to forget. It’s a beautiful sight. He hugs the little guy tightly before handing him over to me.
“What’s your name?” Will asks him.
“Daddy. Please call me Daddy,” he says proudly. “I’ll see you soon, buddy.” Dillon barely glances at me before heading over to the small cabin to grab his bags, I’m guessing. For the last time, I worry.
“When will you be back?” I yell over at him. He keeps walking and just shrugs his shoulders. And with that, Dillon Bleu walks back out of my life.
Chapter Eighteen
Okay… So in all of one afternoon, I totally earned the worst wife as well as the worst mom in the world award.
I’ve defended my decisions adamantly over the years, sure that they were the right ones. I couldn’t let me be the ruin of Dillon’s musical dreams. There’s no way I could have lived with myself. But now I’m realizing how much those decisions have cost each one of us.
I’ve set out in the last two mo
nths to reconcile this. I’ve done my best to give Will a detailed history of his daddy. I told him I had kept him a surprise from Dillon, which is absolutely true. I try to help Will understand why Dillon can’t be with us now. I try to explain to him that our dear friend Mave is sick and really needs his daddy right now. I tell him I’m sorry he hasn’t got to meet Dillon sooner than now. I’ve cost my son a lot. Four years to be exact.
We have spent afternoons under the willow tree with me rambling on about growing up with Dillon as my best friend and about some of the mischief we got into along the way. He loved that his daddy actually blew a boat up—even though it was by accident. I share about the treasure hunts and promise him one soon. We visit Leona and her new baby girl, Phoebe, every afternoon. Leona shares stories about Dillon with Will while I love on that sweet baby. She talks about how Dillon serenaded the trailer park all those years and how Aunt Evie would beg him to play her favorite hymns.
I enjoy telling Will all about his daddy’s magical talent of music. I finally let him watch the Bleu Streak YouTube concert videos. My child is hooked on the band now just as much as I am. It’s hilarious to watch a four-year-old rocking out, just let me tell you. It’s in his blood. What can I say?
I don’t know if I’ve lost Dillon. When he calls, he asks immediately to speak to Will. So I have no choice but to hand over the phone and be ignored. I try asking him about Mave and I only get vague answers. He states evenly that Mave is making progress and then shuts me out. I ask him about when he is returning, but he always says he’s not sure. I deserve this, I know. It still doesn’t make it any easier. Dillon has always treated me with love and compassion and this coldness really stings. I know one thing for sure. He will be back for his son, if nothing else.
