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“Stage seats,” I confirmed. Some of the best in the entire venue. As they should be, for several grand a piece.
“This… this is too much,” she said, shaking her head.
“Nope. But I did tell Slash that we would stop in to see the Golden Glades crew while we are down there,” I told her.
“I’ve heard so many stories that I feel like I practically know them at this point,” she said. “Detroit,” she went on, shaking her head.
“Wait. There’s a part two,” I said, handing her the box.
“Part one was way more than enough,” she said, but she was already tearing at the paper like a kid on Christmas morning.
Then she pulled out the giant-ass plastic storage box with a ton of compartments full of different colored beads.
“I hear making bracelets is a thing,” I said.
“It really, really is,” she said, practically buzzing with excitement. “I can’t wait to make them,” she added, flipping open the lid to take a look at the contents. “Fair warning, I am going to make you one,” she told me, already picking out the beads, and sticking them in the empty compartment.
“Of course you are,” I said, smiling.
I knew that Everleigh was used to being the one doing the taking care of people, the gift giving, the spoiling.
It was really fucking nice to be able to do that for her.
“I love you so much,” she said, beaming at me. “And I’m not only saying that because you got me Taylor Swift tickets and are going to make friendship bracelets with me.”
I never said I’d make them with her.
I didn’t plan to.
Yet, a few days later, we were sitting on the fucking couch, making bracelets while she sang the songs I was starting to learn all the lyrics to as well.
“I think I’m going to dress up in aLoverera,” she said. And, you know, I fucking knew what she was talking about.
She did end up in herLoverera outfit with a short, bright pink skirt, matching cowboy hat and pink heart-shaped glasses, a shiny, bejeweled white top and matching boots, and a whole arm of friendship bracelets to trade.
As for me, she’d gotten me a black shirt with paper rings on it.
Ironic, considering my other plans for that trip.
But it would be a diamond.
And the offer of the rest of my fucking life.
Everleigh - 1.5 years
Taking a deep breath, I looked around the trailer that I’d been working on for weeks.
All the junk had been cleaned up. The surfaces scrubbed into a shine. The linens all washed and re-hung. I’d even attacked the flower beds outside, pulling out the weeds, and planting some seeds that would hopefully come up in the next month or so.
“You sure about this?” Ronald, Detroit and Dallas’s dad asked from his position in his fancy recliner that took some of the pressure off of his back.
I couldn’t tell you exactly when I’d decided to work on this plan. To try to reconnect this family that had somehow gotten strained due mainly to, well, pride. And everyone involved being entirely too stubborn.
I’d happened across Ronald one day when visiting Della, who’d gotten a trailer for herself as well. One she painted in shades of red and pink, claiming she didn’t want any man who stepped inside to feel his testosterone levels plummet.
There’d been no mistaking the family resemblance, though his back injury and the inactivity that followed it had made him much thinner than his sons. Almost gaunt and sickly-looking.
And… I don’t know.
