Goodbyes and Second Chances (The Bleu Series Book 1)

by T. I. Lowe

  A week after he left abruptly, a massive delivery came for Will. It included a child-sized set of drums, a children’s guitar that is the exact replica of Dillon’s electric-blue one, and an upright black piano. Fingers crossed, Will took after his daddy in the music department and not his momma. A laptop was also included with the instructions on how to set up Skype. Dillon video chats with Will every night and prays with him before saying good night. It shows me that we could have made this work all along. Again, Dillon never asks to speak with me.

  That delivery had a note with it that simply stated, just because. Now that didn’t make too much sense to me, until a few weeks after that another delivery was made. Each package was labeled for each birthday Dillon missed. Four birthdays I stole from him.

  The first birthday package was a Bible. The rich leather cover is embossed with Will Bleu and the inside is dated for the first birthday. A card tucked inside was scrawled in Dillon’s handwriting. It stated: These are the words to live by, my son. The Bible is your road map. Keep it close to your heart and you’ll never be lost. ~Proverbs 4:4.

  The second package was a humongous set of Legos. Those suckers are strung and strode all over my living room at the moment. The card with this gift stated: You can build any life you want as long as you have the right foundation ~Matthew 7:24.

  The third birthday gift was a bicycle that resembled a mini Harley with the same paintjob as Dillon’s. It is the coolest bike I have ever seen, even with training wheels. All of the neighbor kids beg Will to let them take a spin. My sweet boy shares, too. He knows this is not the land of good and plenty already. The note attached to the bike stated: This life is a journey. Always keep your wheels on the right path and nothing will be out of reach. ~Psalm 119:34.

  The man is such a poet with his words. I’ve taken the cards and tucked them into Will’s baby book for safe keeping. I hope to share this book with Dillon someday, if he ever speaks to me again.

  The fourth birthday gift totally blew my mind. It is a framed copy of the lyrics to a song written by Dillon entitled “My Will.” The note tucked with it told us that all money from this song goes directly into a college account for Will. The note attached stated: The will of our lives is in God’s hands and I’m a blessed man that He saw fit for you to be my Will. ~Ephesians 1:5.

  There was a lot of thought put into these gifts, and it makes my heart squeeze. Each of these verses is marked in Will’s Bible and has comments scribbled in the margin from his daddy. Will is a blessed boy to have Dillon Bleu for his daddy. I’ve never seen someone with such a loyal heart as that man.

  I got the funniest text from Dillon just this week. My son needs a haircut. Get him one. I laughed and came close to texting back that he was a fine one to talk, but I thought better of it. I think I have already made things bad enough. Will has always worn his hair on the long, shaggy side too. As I said earlier, he looks exactly like Dillon. It broke my heart to have his hair cut, and he felt the same way.

  “I want my hair like Daddy’s,” he said. After I told him it was his daddy’s request, Will got over it instantly. Good grief. I can already see who gets to be the good guy, and it ain’t momma.

  Another delivery followed the hair text. It was an entire new wardrobe for Will. It was all high-end designers, but tasteful. It was basically designer jeans and T-shirts with every brand of shoes you could think of. The note he scribbled stated: Please dress my son better. I thought I was already doing a decent job of that. I didn’t let him wear the secondhand clothes like I wore. I have always searched diligently on the clearance racks at the outlet stores for his outfits. I guess Dillon only has his childhood to go off of, and I’m guessing he is determined to make his son’s better. Again, I keep my snide comments about the subject to myself. Dillon also has no clue how our boy’s body is growing with a blink of an eye. I seriously doubt Will can get the chance to try out each pair of shoes before he outgrows them. I know plenty of kids who will get some wear from them though.

  Speaking of which, there was also several packages for Brina’s young’uns. Dillon scribbled a note saying: Brina’s kids look to be in need of some clothes. That man’s heart is bigger than anyone’s I know. So me and my little boy snuck over to Brina’s late that very night and left the clothes on her tiny porch.

  Even though Dillon won’t speak to me, I have texted an apology. I can never apologize enough for my mistakes. I swear to you I have loved you more than God expects a wife to love her husband. My love for you is so far beyond that. Not a day has ever gone by that I have not physically ached for you. I love you. It has gone unanswered and it breaks my heart. I never weighed the impact of those choices I made for Dillon and I—and Will for that matter.

  I received a letter from Cora apologizing last week, to my surprise. I can only begin to imagine how Dillon probably laid into her. She said she had no business ordering me to stay away from Dillon and she was sorry for all of the time lost. I’m not crazy about forgiving her. But if I want Dillon to forgive me, then I need to forgive her, too. She wants to meet Will and this rubs me wrong something awful. Cora knew he existed all of these years and now wants to show interest. My baby has never had a grandparent and I think he has done just well without one. I just don’t know about this one. I guess we will cross that bridge when we get to it. From the sounds of things, Dillon won’t be pushing that any time soon.

  It did make me feel better that Dillon isn’t talking to her at the moment either. Kyle called last night and filled me in some.

  “Dillon told Cora it was in her best interest to leave him alone for a while. He also told her she best get busy with apologizing to you,” Kyle had said.

  “Great. Now she’s going to bug me. Just great,”

  “I just can’t believe you two have been married all these years behind my back. Both of you really suck for keeping it from me.”

  “But you knew I had his child.”

  “Yeah. I just thought you were following in the footsteps of half the residents of Shimmer Lakes Trailer Park,” he said with a laugh.

  “That ain’t funny, Kyle, and you know it. Things happen and these poor people don’t need you casting your humorous stones at them.”

  “I was just kidding around, Jillian. Don’t get so offensive.”

  “Come home,” I said, barely able to choke the words out. Boy, did I need him right now.

  “No way. I done missed the crap hitting the fan. All the fun is over. You are boring again!” He was laughing as I hung up on him. Creep.

  I’ve got plenty to keep me busy at the moment. I let Jen have my small cabin as a promotion. She is now manager of Shimmer Lakes. I need more time to figure out the new life that will be taking place once Dillon finally figures out how spend time with Will. I finally called Hudson. I think we have come up with a plan on partnering. He promises to leave the trailer park section, if I agree to take no new occupants. Once he has a good bit of vacant trailers, the plan is to move them out and build more cabins. I like that idea. I put no one on the street this way. The game room is also being revamped to an arcade and small snack bar. I like this too, because it will create some jobs and be great revenue. I agree with him that should have been done a long time ago. The RV and campers leave to go over to the other side’s boardwalk for the arcade now.

  The contract is very clear on not kicking out any resident and that no condos or hotels can ever be built. Hudson promises to keep things the way he knows that Aunt Evie would have given her blessings. He’s so excited that I’ve finally agreed to let him pave the roads too. That took a month to talk me into, but I know it will be a good move. He’s footing the bill for the new renovations as his pay for the partnering.

  * * * *

  “Blake, I won’t tell you again about not being allowed to do the one-eighty maneuver with the truck. Do it one more time and I’m going to have to fire you.” I eye him sternly and watch him fidget.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, Ms. Jillian,” Blake says. I
want to punch him more for making me feel old than for taking out a few of Mr. Wayne’s rose bushes with his little stunt.

  “Please head over to the arcade and help the guys unload the new games,” I say and dismiss the teenage boy from my office. Ugh. I hate having to act all grown.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he says remorsefully and heads out of my office.

  I look down at the damage estimates and shake my head in aggravation. Hudson demanded I fire Blake immediately, but Hudson has some learning to do about this side of the lake. This isn’t just some nonsense job for this teenager. He has to help his grandma makes ends meet. I finally talked him into giving Blake one more chance. Hudson also assumes the damages will be taken out of the guy’s paycheck. I told him I agreed that should be done, but I never said I would. So I’m writing Mr. Wayne a personal check and Blake has promised to help him clean and replant the damaged portion of the yard.

  My phone starts coming to life as I sign my name. “Hello?”

  “Hey. Ms. Raveena said she just saw a strange man climb into the back window of Aunt Evie’s trailer,” Jen says.

  “Great. Just what I need.”

  “You want me to call the cops?” Jen asks.

  I’m already heading out the door. “No. Let me go check it out first. Can you grab Will from preschool and drop him off with Brina just in case this takes more time than I have?” I ask as I climb on the golf cart and take off towards Aunt Evie’s.

  “Sure. No problem. Be careful.”

  “I’ll call you back as soon as I figure out what’s going on,” I promise before hanging up. It only takes two minutes at the most to zoom up to the trailer. I hop off the cart to walk around the trailer and peep in my old room’s window. Lying on my bed is a rail thin man with his back towards me. He clothes are good quality but are rumpled, and his long brown hair is seriously tangled. His tatted up arms are shielding his face from me.

  For old time’s sake, I ease the window open, crawl in beside him, and sit on the edge of the bed. I rub his bony shoulder and he slowly rolls over in the small space and stares at me blankly. I get a good look at him and it rips my heart out. He looks like a ghost of himself, with pale skin that makes the dark circles under his tired eyes much more prominent.

  “You okay?” I whisper. I’m worried I may scare him. He looks so frail.

  He nods his head slightly for an answer.

  I pull his hand in mine and hold it tightly. “Are you clean?” I ask in another whisper.

  “Yeah. Just needed to come home… Please don’t make me leave,” Mave whispers back. His exhausted eyes convey a plea before sliding back shut.

  “Of course not,” I say as I release his hand and pull my phone out. I shoot Dillon a text. Got Mave. He’s straight. Just leave him here for now. Call u later. He texts back immediately. Thank God. I put the phone back in my pocket and go back to holding Mave’s hand. He drifts off to sleep for a while, but I don’t leave him. It seems this is what he needs at the moment. I watch him and my heart aches for what I see. Dillon didn’t let on that it was this bad. By the looks of Mave, he had gotten himself into some pretty bad stuff. No wonder Dillon was so broke up about it. Guilt slices through me once again, for not being there for both Mave and the rest of the band. They are my family and I shut them out, too. I’m right ashamed of myself. I sit here and tears slide down my cheeks as remorse pricks at me. I might have been able to prevent this for Mave, if I was there by their sides being the mother hen they obviously needed. But I guess that’s neither here nor there now. What’s done is done and all I can do now is try to make up for the lost time.

  Mave eventually wakes with a start and seems to have forgotten where he is at. He’s shaking and is sweating, even though I turned the window air unit on full blast. “It’s okay,” I murmur to soothe him. “You’re home.”

  He looks around cautiously for a few moments before pulling himself together. He scoots up in the bed and wipes his hands over his weary face. “Sorry,” he says.

  We do another quiet spell as we watch each other. I’m scared I’m going to spook him. I don’t know this Mave, but I think I know how to reach the old one.

  I shake my head at him discerningly. “I still think you have worms,” I say, causing a slight smile to pull at his lips. I reach over and squeeze his barely there waist. I pull my phone out and dial Jen. “Hey. I need you to head over to Momma May’s and pick up a large bucket of fried chicken with all the fixings and a gallon of tea.” As I say this Mave hold up two fingers. “Make that two gallons of tea and a peach cobbler.” I’m about to hang up when Mave mouths, ice cream. Yep. I’ve reached my Mave. “And can you stop by the store and grab a gallon of vanilla ice cream?”

  “Sure,” Jen says.

  I put the phone away and continue to sit with my dear friend. He’s like a brother to me, even after all these years of separation. I hate that he is having to fight such an ugly battle. I hate that he got mixed up with such. “I’ve been praying for you,” I whisper. His eyes tear up, so he places his arm over them to hide. I know he’s ashamed of himself.

  “Mave, we all make mistakes. Just promise me to not let this beat you,” I say through my own tears. He has had to fight to survive all of his life and I just can’t fathom this being the ending to his story.

  “I’m working on it. I’m clean. It just hurts a lot,” he says hoarsely.

  I have no clue as to what it feels like to come off drugs, but seeing him in this shape, it’s definitely something I never want to experience. Mave seems to fold into himself as he curls up in a ball on his side and sobs. I rub his back and nearly cringe when my hand meets nothing but skin and bones. He is hurting and I have no idea how to make it better. I promise myself that if he’s no better by tomorrow, I will ask Dillon for help. He texted me back while Mave slept, wanting to know what was going on. He said Mave went missing early yesterday morning and they had been searching for him. I reassured him it was best to stay put for the time being and that I would keep him posted. It wouldn’t surprise me if the whole cavalry shows up by nightfall. I just hope the guys hold off and give Mave some space.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” I say quietly. I’m so mad at myself.

  “This is on me. No one else,” he says, his voice muffled by his arm.

  “I’m here for you now, Mave. Whatever you need. Promise.” I sniffle. This is killing me.

  “This is what I need right now. Please let me stay,” he begs.

  I pull his arm down from his head so I can see his eyes. “We got this, okay?” He simple nods in agreement.

  A loud creaking pop of the front door lets me know the food is here, so I scurry to the front of the trailer and meet Jen.

  “Let’s eat,” she says as she unloads the bags onto the table.

  “I need you to leave. Sorry.” I look at her with remorse.

  “Well, I’m taking a chicken leg at least.” She grabs a piece of chicken along with a roll and heads back out the door without giving me any more lip. I had texted her back earlier too and told her an old friend of mine needed me. I didn’t tell her it was Maverick King. She would have gone all fan freak on me. She’s a pretty big fan of Bleu Streak.

  As soon as the door slams, I feel the trailer rock slightly with Mave walking towards the small kitchen. I fill him a plate with three pieces of chicken and a pile of mash potatoes and coleslaw as he takes a seat beside me. He digs into it likes he’s not eat in ages. He looks like he hasn’t too. He scarfs down the chicken and uncaps the jug of tea and drinks greedily straight from it. He sits it down by his plate, so I guess he is in no need of a glass. By the time I’m done nibbling on a chicken thigh, Mave has made his second plate and has chugged half a gallon of tea. It blows my mind how him and Max have always been able to eat such large quantities of food without getting sick. Really. Where do they put it? These two could be competitive eaters, without a doubt.

  I inhale deeply as Mave peels the lid off the tin pan and the aroma of baked pe
aches fills the space. He looks at the dessert lustfully and I nearly laugh at him. He pops the ice cream carton open and sets out to dumping all of it on top of the cobbler. He seems on a mission so I don’t fuss at him about it. I just grab us two spoons and we dig into the rich dessert without a word. He makes fast work of it. I barely get four good bites before the tin container is scraped clean.

  I look at him with a smirk on my face. “Worms. You have worms.” I nod my head at my certainty on the matter, making him laugh. That one thing melts my heart. It’s a rich happy laugh and it gives me hope that Mave just might make it through this.

  He sits back in his chair and pats his protruding belly with satisfaction. His red rimmed eyes seem to grow quite heavy at the same time.

  “Why don’t you stretch out in Aunt Evie’s bed? There’s more room,” I suggest.

  He sits, thinking about it for a while. “If it’s okay, I would rather crash in your bed. I don’t think Aunt Evie would be too happy with me right now.” He won’t meet my eyes and I notice the shame seeping from him.

  I place my hand over his to get his attention and to comfort him. “Aunt Evie would be proud that you are fighting to get better.”

  He nods his head and lets out a long sigh. He stands and heads back to my room, and I hear the groaning of the small bed as he lies back down. By the time I clean the table, I hear him snoring. I don’t want to leave Mave alone, so I ask Brina to let Will spend the night with her, and then I climb into Aunt Evie’s bed.

  I didn’t sleep well. I was worried Mave would disappear in the night. I kept checking on him, but the only time he moved all night was one trip to the bathroom and then right back to bed. It’s already midmorning. I’ve drunk an entire pot of coffee while waiting on him to awaken. It seems he has a lot of rest to catch up on. I eye his bag of sausage biscuits I had Jen grab up for me. They are cold now, but I’m sure he will eat them all the same.