My forever
It was one of those letters that I would cherish for the rest of my life. It was one of those letters that I’d never share with anybody else. This was just for my eyes. Always.
Tears were streaming down my face as I read the words he’d written for me. It hadn’t been a long road, but it had certainly been a hard one.
I was ready. This was rushed and scary and way too fast, but it was the way things were supposed to be. I knew that in my heart with absolute certainty.
That little wave of love that Parker had mentioned less than a week earlier shuddered through me. I loved him with a fierceness that I’d never experienced before, and I knew that song lyrics he’d written for me were only the tip of the iceberg. We had a long, happy, and safe marriage ahead of us, and it was all set to begin in a few short hours.
Kimmy glanced expectantly at the card as she waited for me to pass it to her. I grinned as I held it to my chest.
And then she handed me the box.
Once I’d read his words, I’d forgotten that there was more. I felt like the words he’d written for me—his song—were my gift. It was all I needed.
I set the card on the counter and picked up the box. It was heavier than I expected. I tore the paper off of it and opened it to find a photo album.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d held an actual album of photos in my hands. We all took pictures of everything, it seemed, on our phones. No one printed pictures anymore. As I held the closed album, I figured it had to have been middle school when I’d last created an album like this one.
But when I opened it, I realized that I’d never created an album quite like this one.
The first picture in the album happened to be the first one that Parker and I had ever taken together. It was a random selfie that he’d taken at the café at Vintage one afternoon after he’d gotten back from his first tour and before he’d finished writing his new album. A slip of paper in the plastic sleeve above the photo said “Our first picture” in Parker’s handwriting.
I smiled at it because it was symbolic of everything we had been through. We were both smiling, but neither of us really wore a sincere smile. I’d been hesitant to get involved with a musician, and Parker had been fighting his feelings for me in his own way. As I looked at Parker, I could see the conflict behind his eyes. It was before he’d revealed who he was, before I knew he was protecting me and watching out for me.
I studied the fear behind my own eyes. I could tell I was repressing how I really felt. Thanks to the man in the photo with me, I’d just gotten back the arsenal of emotions that had been missing for a long time, and I was too scared about what that might mean.
Back then, I would never have pictured myself walking down the aisle with him only a few months later.
I flipped to the next picture and saw Parker standing outside of the Wells Fargo Arena in Philadelphia. The picture was a little dark, a little far away, but I recognized that same conflict in his eyes. A smile stretched across his lips, and anyone else would’ve thought he looked like an excited musician taking photos outside of every venue where he toured.
But I could tell that something was wrong. There was more at play behind the eyes that I’d gotten to know so well. The eyes I searched out in every room.
The slip of paper above the picture said, “This was taken before you arrived. I was so nervous to see you and tell you what I’d been keeping from you. I learned my lesson, and I will never keep anything from you again. Team James forever.”
I flipped through each picture and studied each caption that he took the time to write. Tears filled my eyes—again—as each of his words invaded my mind and filtered down to my heart. It was a chronicle of our relationship. Every stop on the tour was represented, and some of the captions had other memories, too—the pizza place in New York, the Walgreens and our “engagement” in Raleigh, songs that represented how he felt about me and little explanations about why he’d chosen certain ones he’d covered, and the final stop of the tour in New Orleans.
None of the bad memories were recorded. None of the break-ins, not the stolen journal, not the fight that last night in New Orleans.
When I looked at these pictures whenever I wanted to for the rest of my life, I would only remember the good stuff. I’d only remember the good memories Parker gave to me, not the horrific ones Randy created.
twenty-seven
After the gifts, Brittany finished my make-up and Bethany did my hair. She curled it in loose waves, pinning back pieces into the barrette I’d purchased with my dress. Before I even put on my gown, I felt like a princess. And when I finally slipped it on, I felt like a goddess.
Before I knew it, I was sitting in a white Bentley with George behind the wheel as we made our way to my dad’s house. Kimmy allowed me to be lost in my thoughts as I stared out the window. It wasn’t a long drive, but the quiet of the car was peaceful and calming.
“Are you doing okay?” Kimmy asked.
I nodded. “Calmer than I was expecting.”
George pulled into the driveway after flashing some credentials at the security team, and we were ushered into the house.
Of all the people in the world who I didn’t want ruining the peaceful moments before I was about to walk down the aisle, my mother stood ready to greet me.
“Oh Roxanna!” she whimpered when she saw me. “You look beautiful.”
It would have been great if she’d left it at that. But that wasn’t her style. Instead, she reminded me all the reasons why I preferred her to be out of the country.
“That dress, though. Is it old? It’s gorgeous, but it looks old. Also, your dad and his new wife are just the worst. I barely slept with the noises coming out of their room. And the backyard wedding. Isn’t it a little informal? Almost like a barbecue? I don’t know, Roxanna. Are you sure you don’t want to wait? Why are you rushing this?”
I held up my hand. “Mother. Stop. If you don’t approve, you don’t need to attend.”
I pushed my way past her toward my dad’s office.
I turned back to Kimmy, who was grinning, and I caught my mom’s shocked face out of the corner of my eye. I ignored it. “Tell Parker that I’ll be the hot one in white.”
She laughed, and then she turned on her quest to find her brother while I made my way toward my dad’s office.
The office was empty, so I sat on the couch and looked around, in awe as always at all of the awards on the walls. When I really thought about it, it was pretty damn cool that Gideon Price was actually my father. He was an amazing man and the best dad a girl could ask for. I was truly blessed.
The door opened and my dad stepped in.
He looked handsome in his tuxedo. He was my daddy, but I could see why women swooned over him. His dark hair was a mess, the scruff on his cheeks and chin was a little more grown in than usual, and the same blue eyes that he’d passed down to me stared back at me.
I felt immediate relief when I saw him. I’d been so busy all day between hair and make-up and getting dressed that I hadn’t really had time to process the fear that was nibbling at my conscience after my dream.
I’d dreamt that Damien was going to die, and he had.
So a dream that my dad was with Damien and Katie pressed a heavy weight upon my chest. I knew the natural order of life was to lose your parents before they lost you, but it was too early. My dad was healthy, young, and athletic. He had a long life ahead of him. Seeing him full of life in the doorway before me was pretty solid evidence.
I stood from my position on the couch, and he stopped in the doorway and gazed at me for a moment.
And then his face broke into a proud smile. “When did my little girl grow old enough to get married?”
I rushed into his waiting arms. My dad wasn’t always perfect, but he was always comforting.
“You look absolutely stunning, CC.” He kissed the top of my head.
“Thank you for the thoughtful gifts, Daddy,” I murmured, trying my hardest not to cry again.