Parker laughed. “Not soon enough?”
“Parker, I need to find a dress. I need to invite people. I need to book flowers and music and food. I can’t pull that together in six days.”
“Are you kidding me? You are aware that your father could buy the world if he wanted to, aren’t you?”
A frisson of fear darted through me. He knew what my dad was worth. Why did he bring it up?
I pushed the insecurities to the back of my mind. Parker wasn’t marrying me because of my father. He’d more than proven his love for me over the past couple of months.
But it was still difficult for me to believe that someone loved me just for me.
“What?” Parker asked me.
“Nothing,” I muttered.
“Hey,” he said, putting his spoon down. He took my chin between his fingertips and forced me to look up at him. “What are you thinking?”
“Just my insecurities.”
He looked confused for a minute, as if he was thinking back over what he’d just said.
“Do you know that I fall more in love with you every day?” he asked me, his eyes genuine as they focused on mine.
“You know I’m right there with you, don’t you?”
He nodded, and then he stood and pulled me up with him. He wrapped his arms around me, and I rested my head against his chest.
“I have a little story for you,” he said. His chest rumbled against my cheek at the deep timber of his voice. He didn’t wait for my response before he continued. “As you know, I didn’t grow up with parents who had a great marriage. I’m not even sure if they really loved each other. It seemed more like tolerance. They were used to each other, and it was easier to stay together. Their relationship taught me that it would never be okay just to settle. I know what I want out of a marriage, and it definitely isn’t what they had. I plan to get married once. Only once. It will be forever. And I plan on that happening with you, because once you know, you just know. And I know. I’m sure.”
“I’m sure, too,” I said, tears filling my eyes.
“So next weekend. If it’s not good with you, the weekend after that. And if you want to wait longer, I’ll wait longer.”
I leaned back to look up at him. He was, as always, strikingly handsome. Scruff lined his jaw, and his hair was a mess, but his brown eyes looked upon my blue ones with so much love that I could practically swim in it.
I pressed my palms on his chest. I could feel the steadying beat of his heart under my hand. Solid beats created a rhythm that was the symphony of my dreams.
I was suddenly certain that everything would fall into place just as it was supposed to.
“Next weekend,” I said.
“Next weekend?” he repeated.
A smile broke out on my face. “Oh fuck, Parker. We have a lot to do!”
He grinned, kissed me, and we both sat back down at the table to get to work.
seventeen
By lunchtime, we had booked an appointment at a wedding dress boutique and a florist, we’d talked Flashing Light into performing, and, most importantly, we had my father’s approval to use his house for the ceremony and reception.
My dad spoke to us both privately, and he asked me if I was sure this was what I wanted. He was worried that I was rushing into it because of Damien, and while Damien’s death had certainly shown me how short life was, it wasn’t why I wanted to marry Parker. I was marrying Parker because I loved him. I wanted to be Mrs. James. I wanted to be partners in life and work and love. And I couldn’t wait for all of that to start.
Parker’s words echoed in my mind: “Once you know, you just know. And I know.”
I was as confidently certain as he was. And that’s how I knew that we were doing this the right way. Other people might not see it as right, but we did. It was our way, and that was all that mattered.
My dad volunteered to get in touch with Delilah, the woman who had coordinated his wedding to Jadyn. As much as I wanted nothing to do with Jadyn, I had to appreciate the offer. If we had under a week, we would definitely need the help. My dad also offered to fly in any guests who we wanted to attend. He said he would foot the bill for all of it, and he wouldn’t put up with any arguments.
It was his actions that showed me that even though this was happening at an extremely rapid pace, he approved. I’d known he approved of Parker, but he was even okay with a week-long engagement. And that told me that he really knew Parker. He knew his heart—who he was as a man—and he trusted Parker to take care of his only daughter.
I knew I had to call my mother next, but I had to do one important thing before I made that call.
I walked over to my pantry and pulled out the lone bottle of scotch. Parker looked at me with curiosity. I unscrewed the cap and took a swig. Parker laughed, and I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “You want one?”
“Are you planning on having me talk to her?”
I shrugged. “If you want to.”
“Will I need it talking to her for the first time?”
“I need it talking to her any time.”
That earned a belly laugh from Parker, and I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my lips any time I heard his hearty laugh.
I pulled up my mother’s contact information on my phone while Parker took a swig of scotch.
Little pieces of my relationship with my mother flashed through my mind as I stared at her contact information for a few seconds.
She’d been absent for much of my childhood. I always thought of her as my birth mother, not the kind and caring sort of mother that children deserved. I never really had that. The final straw in our relationship had come during my freshman year in high school. It was my first Homecoming dance, and a cute boy I’d had a crush on had asked me to the dance. I’d asked my mom if we could go shopping for a dress, and she sent me along with a driver and told me to pick out whatever I wanted.
What I really wanted was a mom who wanted to shop for the goddamn dress with me.
I didn’t dislike her. I didn’t resent her. She was part of my life when she wanted to be, and I’d grown to accept that about our relationship. At least I had my dad, and even though he pissed me off to the extreme sometimes, I knew I’d always have him. He cared about me. He’d have gone dress shopping with me if he’d have been in town. That was just the kind of dad he was.
When I’d come home from my dress excursion, excited that I’d found a dress in my favorite color, I modeled it for my mom. When I emerged in excitement from my bedroom, my mother informed me that the pale blue color I’d chosen had washed me out and made my skin look pasty.
I could only imagine how this conversation was going to go.
I drew in a deep breath and clicked the call button.
It rang four times and went to voicemail.
Fantastic.
Now she’d call me back whenever she pleased and I’d be caught off guard—and most likely sober.
“Mother, it’s your daughter Roxanna. I have some news to share with you. Please call me at your earliest convenience.”
I hung up.
“So formal,” Parker commented.
“She’s not very motherly, in case you haven’t gotten the memo.”
“Yeah, I kinda figured. You ready to head over to Vintage?” he asked.
I nodded. I’d called the store to see if Barry was in, and by some stroke of luck, he was. I told Virginia to book me an appointment with him.
More formalities when we were used to casual operations.
On our twenty-five minute drive over, we talked wedding details and I made a few calls to let some extended family know that this was happening. Both of my grandparents on my mom’s side and my grandfather on my dad’s side had passed away before I even knew them. My grandma on my dad’s side was still alive. She lived in San Francisco, and we tended to get together on holidays and special occasions. She was a typical grandma—not what you would expect of the mother of one of the most famous rock stars on earth.
My mom was an only child, like me, and my dad had one younger brother who had died of a drug overdose in the late nineties. It taught my dad a thing or two about the dangers of drugs. I had a couple of cousins on that side of my family, but that was it as far as family was concerned. I didn’t even really care if my cousins attended. An invitation would be more out of obligation than actually wanting them there.