Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (68 page)

When Emma and I got
back, she left to get ready and I took a nap in Jameson’s lap.

“Don’t you dare answer
that!
”

“Why?” I asked glancing
down at my ringing cell phone when I woke up.

“Because
...
they will come over here,” Jameson said
opening a beer. He tossed the beer cap on the end table next to him. “I can’t
handle
any
of them today after that tux fitting. Let’s just enjoy a few
hours alone in
our
house. We have to see them all day tomorrow.”

“You know they are
coming over anyways, right?”

Jameson stared at me in
aghast. “What?”

“Jameson, do you pay
attention to anything?”

“Well that depends.” He
sat down in one of the overstuffed suede leather chairs I picked out, which I
might add, made me happy since he swore he would never sit in them. “Who told
me they were coming over?”

“Emma.”

“Well there you go.” he
leaned back in the chair, kicking his feet up on the matching leather ottoman.
“I don’t listen to anything when she speaks.”

Before we could
continue, they were knocking on the door.

Emma decided the
rehearsal dinner would be held at our house, as in, the house we just bought.

Jameson had other ideas
about it but that didn’t matter as far as Emma was concerned.

It took about four
weeks to get it painted and decorated the way we wanted, which Emma did. I
originally loved the kitchen but of course—Emma remodeled it. I was pleasantly
surprised at how well she did. The entire house had a calm, homey, lived in
feeling with a warm inviting palette allow with a shit load of furnishings
she’d purchased at the Old Canary and The Pottery Barn.

Within an hour our
house and the deck outside had people everywhere. I sat in my overstuffed chair
with my feet up while everyone mingled and talked to Jameson, who sat beside
me. It was mostly Jameson’s family since my family consisted of Charlie and me.
Both my parents were only children so I had no cousins or aunts and uncles and
my grandparents had long since passed away.

I suppose the Lucifer
twins were now family but I still refused to acknowledge that I was actually
related to the little bastards. Just another thing in my life I was in denial about.

Emma plopped down next
to me and then sighed. “Are you ready to leave soon?”

“What are you talking
about?” I asked keeping an eye on Jameson who was now demonstrating to Logan
how to play pool. I was positive someone was going to lose an eye.

“We are leaving for
Kiana
Lodge tonight.” She told me giving me that
“Don’t
you pay attention to anything,”
look.

“Oh, right.” I must
have missed that one in the hour-long tirades she’d gone on these days concerning
this goddamn wedding. I for one; will be glad when it’s over. Not that I don’t
want to marry Jameson, because I couldn’t wait to tie myself to him in every
way but I hated the entire fret over something that would only last a few
hours. And don’t get me started on the money that goes into these things.

Seriously though, who
spends five thousand dollars on a fucking cake?
Pure
insanity.

Emma does or should I
say, Jameson does. He handed over his credit card a few weeks back and I
reminded him every day how horrible of an idea that was. Just imagine his
surprise when he gets his statement next month. I’ll bet it will resemble one
of those Looney
Toon
characters when their face turns
all red and steam comes out of their ears
...
like
Elmer
Fudd
when he fails to catch the rabbit, or as
he says
wabbit
.

“Where will Jameson be
tonight then?” I asked still eyeing Jameson and Logan.

“Aiden, Spencer, and
him
are driving up in the morning. You guys aren’t allowed
to see each until the wedding.”

Damn traditions.

Later that night, we
had a simple bachelorette party while Alley, Emma, Mallory, and Nancy got drunk
in the hotel room.

I drank root beer
floats. Jameson briefly told me about his bachelor party a few days ago and he
felt as though it was more for our family. After this, I felt the same way. Not
that I really wanted a crazy bachelorette party. It just seemed like this was
more about keeping up with traditions than having fun. It didn’t help that I
was pregnant and couldn’t have a good time though.

I was also not amused
with my gifts. Well, I liked the nighties I got but the vibrators were
annoying. One vibrator is okay, five is not.

What did they think we
were going to do, double-team each other?

That morning I
laid
in bed with a grin thinking of the night to come. I
finally understood what we created back when we were eleven. Our lives had been
so intertwined as one, knitted together to the point the frayed fabric was just
one now. Strings of friendship, desire, love, lust, bonds, all tangled creating
one string that after
today,
would forever be fabric.

I went along with all
the wedding traditions with my usual lackadaisical attitude. I let everyone
fuss over me for the last few weeks but I was at a breaking point. Here I sat
in my dress and ready to go, crying profusely.

The breaking point was
reached when I read a note Jameson gave me to read this morning.

My knocked up bride to be,

In just a few short hours, you will finally be my
wife. Prepare for a lifetime of dirty sex.

Love,

Your dirty heathen husband

Surprisingly, it was
the perfect note for me that morning.

I never thought this
day would finally come. Six months ago, I set out to prove to Jameson that I
could be more than his best friend. Although that originally backfired on me,
it taught us both something about the way we felt for each other and a taste we
never knew we wanted.

When he proposed, I
honestly thought I was dreaming. How could everything I wanted with him be
true? After much internal debate these last few weeks, I had come to the
conclusion my fairytale wasn’t a nightmare after all, and your life
can
go from the unspeakable to the fairytale, if you let it, if you believe it can.

The fairytale was
this
—all
around me. The prince charming, though he was a dirty heathen, he was
my
prince charming, flawed to perfection. This was my happy right now.

Even with all this
excitement, that didn’t stop the tears after I read his note. It wasn’t sappy
or anything but the fact that he knew what to say to me, made me cry.

I don’t know why I was
having a panic attack but I was.

“Oh
my god!”
I yelled and then giggled in a passive aggressive way staring at my reflection
in the full-length mirror.

There have been a few times
in my life where I have had a full-blown panic attack. The first being when I
saw a penis on a porno Emma and I stole from Spencer when I was thirteen.
The second, when I found out that there were balls attached to it
and they were covered in hair.

“What’s the matter?”
Nancy asked stepping beside me rubbing my back.

“My dad
...
is gonna know I’m not a virgin after
tonight
...
oh god
!” I wailed louder.

It was a stupid thing
to be thinking of but the idea that Charlie would know I was no longer a
virgin, terrified me.

“Sway
...
you’re eight months pregnant.” Alley
snorted. “He’s not an imbecile and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think you’re the
Virgin Mary.”

It made me feel
slightly better to see the snarky side of Alley return. She’d become
increasingly sympathetic and supportive these last few days and it was becoming
intolerable. I could only handle so much sympathy. I needed someone to tell me
the way it was.

“Alley is right sweetie
...
” Nancy jumped in while continuing to
pet me. “Charlie already knows that.”

“She’s just nervous.”
Alley deduced examining my rather distraught expression. “Give her some water.”

“I’d be nervous too if
I was committing myself to someone like
Jameson
for the rest of my
life.” Emma said handing me a bottle of water.

“Emma!” Nancy slapped
her upside the head. “You’re not helping.” She turned toward me again, rubbing
my back. “Just take deep breaths if you’re feeling overwhelmed.”

“You’re starting to
sound like you’re directing a porno, Nancy.” I told her, blowing my nose.

“Okay,
shhh
...
there you go sweetie,”
she said, ignoring my comment.

I didn’t realize
Charlie was standing there until I heard him clear his throat. Emma, Alley, and
Nancy quickly made excuses as to why they needed to leave.

They all smiled at
Charlie before leaving, he stepped forward and leaned against the wall,
smiling. “You look beautiful sweetheart.”

“Thanks dad. I’m sorry
...
I’m just
...
”

“Emotional.” He
finished for me.

“Yeah
...
I guess I am.” I nodded and turned to
look at myself in the mirror again.

We sat there in silence
for a few moments before he moved from his place against the wall and pulled me
into a tight hug.

“I wish your mother
could see you today. She would be so proud of you. I’m proud of you. You’ve
grown into such a beautiful young woman.” His voice broke as a tear slipped
down his cheek. “I can still remember seeing you for the first time
...
” he couldn’t finish and began crying.
“I’m just so happy I was able to be here for you today.”

Oh Jesus, now look at
me!
I
started crying even harder.

“Thank you dad for
everything,” I choked. “I’ll always remember this day, right here.”

This was another one of
those moments where I was crying uncontrollably, and not in a normal way.
Tears, drool and snot were flowing in abundance. Poor Charlie just held me,
crying as well, I don’t think he really knew what to do at this point.

I was tempted to ask
Van to find us some Ben and Jerry’s to pull us out of our emotional breakdown
but didn’t. Instead, I just cried it out with Charlie.

Flywheel – Jameson

I was slow getting out
of bed this morning. My cold was still hanging on a little and after getting
drunk with the boys, chasing shots of Yukon Jack with
Nyquil
, I was
tired. But when I thought about what today was, I was more than ready to start
the day.

After today, Sway Reins
would
finally
be my wife.

Rolling over, I swung
my legs out of bed to find Spencer on my floor in just his underwear. I kicked
him in the stomach. “Put some fucking clothes on.”

He just moaned, curling
up with his pants under his cheek.

Showering and finally
shaving the “championship challenge” as Tate called it.

Around the time I took
over the
points
battle in Charlotte, Bobby, Tate and
me decided on some good healthy competition throwing back beers that night. We
wouldn’t shave until the championship was over. Since I hadn’t shaved a week
prior to that, I had a good three month growth now. I didn’t think Sway wanted
to marry a logger today so I went ahead and shaved.

It took us a good
couple hours to get going that morning and to find Lane. We eventually found
him sleeping in the kitchen pantry with a box of Captain Crunch.

I’m not sure whose idea
it was to leave a three-year old alone with us last night but it sure wasn’t a
good one. For one, judging by his moody demeanor, he clearly didn’t get enough
sleep. But the worst part was his hair.

For the past year, Lane
has asked Alley for a Mohawk. When Spencer got drunk and shaved his usual wavy
mess of black hair into a Travis Barker Mohawk, well Lane was slightly
irritated that his dad was allowed to and he couldn’t. So you put a group of
six guys alone with a 3-year old begging you for a Mohawk, what do you think we
did?

“Nice hair Lane.”

“It pretty awesome,” He
nodded once we were in the car. He ran his hand over the spikes grinning. “I
thinking mama will
lovd
it.”

“You mean love it.”

“Tats what I said.”

“No you said
lovd
. By the way,
that
has an “H” in it.”

He rolled his eyes and
took my coffee from me. “
Gimme
that.”