I’d known plenty of siblings who didn’t get along, but Kimmy truly admired her brother. They were close friends who picked each other up after the tragic losses they’d endured. She confirmed for me that Parker was truly a good man who had been dealt a crap hand where his dad was concerned. He’d handled that in various ways, but he wanted happiness just like anyone else. And it was his sister who pointed out how it just took the right woman for him to see that the meaningless relationships he’d been in for the majority of his life had nothing on finding your one true love.
At least I hadn’t woken up from my nightmare screaming. It wouldn’t have been the first time I had, but it probably would’ve scared the shit out of Kimmy.
So instead of calling Parker to come wrap his loving, protective arms around me, I wrestled with whether or not to tell Kimmy about my dream.
I took a shower, taking my time to shave my legs carefully, and then I let my hair dry naturally. I didn’t put on any make-up. I rubbed my favorite lotion everywhere. That was the extent of my beauty routine. Experts had been called in to take care of the rest.
Rather than going somewhere to have our hair and make-up done, my dad had arranged for them to come to me. They’d been cleared by my dad’s security team, and they were apparently top notch and very highly recommended.
I called my dad to make sure he was okay under the guise that I was just ensuring all of the details were taken care of. He assured me that everything was under control, and then made me promise that I wouldn’t worry about anything.
I didn’t have the nerve to tell him that it was him who I was worried most about. Instead, I thanked God that my dad had answered when I called, and I pushed the awful dream out of my conscious thought.
Kimmy and I had just finished rinsing our dishes from lunch when we heard a knock at the door.
Our stylists had arrived. Brittany, the make-up artist, and Bethany, the hairstylist, were both young and stylish. While Bethany worked on Kimmy’s hair, Brittany worked on my make-up. Kimmy and I giggled as she told me stories about Parker as a teenager.
Primping with a Coke and a woman who was the closest thing to a girlfriend I had helped me to snap out of my fog.
George stopped by with two gift boxes somewhere between eye shadow and mascara. He set them both on my table with a smile.
The first was a larger box. I tore open the card attached to the top.
To our CC on her wedding day:
We love you and couldn’t be happier for you. If you ever need anything, you know we’re both here for you. Always and Forever.
Love, Mom and Dad
I smiled at the card, tears threatening. I watched as Brittany sent up a silent prayer that she hadn’t done my eyeliner or (waterproof) mascara yet.
My dad always signed my mom’s name on cards to me whether or not she was involved in the actual purchase of a gift. Come to think of it, she had never been involved in the actual purchase of any of my gifts. My dad had taken care of everything for my entire life, and here he was, throwing together a very last minute but perfect wedding celebration just to please me.
He ended the card with the same phrase he usually did: Always and Forever. It was his predictability—or maybe it was the consistency—that provided a comforting harmony.
The card caused tears to threaten. The contents inside of the box caused them to cascade.
I opened the box and found several items: a delicate platinum and diamond jewelry set including a bracelet, necklace, and earrings that would match perfectly with my dress; a beautiful princess cut sapphire ring; a fragile lace handkerchief; and a set of crystal wine goblets.
All of the items had notes under them, all written in my dad’s distinctive, masculine penmanship.
The note under the jewelry said, Something new for you.
The note under the sapphire ring said, Something blue for you.
The note under the handkerchief said, Something borrowed. This belonged to your great-grandmother on my side. She wrapped it around her bouquet at her wedding.
The note under the wine goblets said, Something old. My parents toasted their first drink as a married couple out of these glasses. And now you and Parker can continue the tradition.
Kimmy read each piece of paper after I did. “Your dad is amazing,” she said, and I smiled because she was right.
And then it was time for the second box. I’d barely recovered from my dad’s meaningful gifts, and there was more for me to open.
The second box was much smaller than the first. There was a card accompanying it, and the front said, “To the future Mrs. James” in Parker’s handwriting.
I tore it open. The envelope boasted “Flashing Light” on the outside. He’d used band stationery to write his letter to me.
And the words written on the inside stole my heart.
Jimi,
How could I have possibly known when Gideon Price asked me to keep an eye on his daughter that I’d end up finding everything I need to survive this life?
I used to be this guy who did whatever I wanted whenever I wanted to. I never put anyone else first because I never had to. I never wanted to. I never thought I would.
But now there’s you.
You’re everything to me. You’re what’s important. Our love and our future are all that matter, and I will spend each day for the rest of my life proving that I’m worthy enough to call you my wife. No part of me believes that I am, but I’ll do my best to be everything you need. You will be part of everything I think, say, and do for the rest of my life. And that starts today.
I wrote some lyrics the night we first spoke at Vintage—when Flashing Light did our appearance. I’d been protecting you from afar before that, falling in love with what I knew of you, but it was that night when we finally spoke for the first time. You were such a smartass and so sexy, and that was the night I knew that someday I’d marry you. These words make up the refrain for a song that’s going on our next album, and you’re the first person outside of FL to see the lyrics. I hope you like it because it’s for you. See you in a few hours. I’ll be the sex god in a tux waiting for my goddess at the end of the aisle.
Love You Forever,
Parker James
“My Forever”
I’ve been watching you
From across the room
Across the street
Wondering when
We can finally meet
I’ve been wondering
What makes you moan
If you’d like to fight
What your eyes look like
When I fuck you right
I’ve been wanting you
Since that first day
And now I never
Want to be without