Mom hooks her other arm through Dad’s. Like, that we head down to where the Beast sits parked and idling, awaiting us with the rest of my motorcade.
My parents chat on the short ride back to the White House and I smile, enjoying their playful banter, their relaxed expressions. This was a good night for both of them.
And for me, too.
Maybe I’m finally learning how to let go of that acknowledgment I seek. For good this time.
Only time will tell if it rears its ugly head again, desperate for me to secure external validation from my father when the truth is I know I don’tneedit.
Iwantit. And that is a totally different thing.
Maybe I’m on the path to learning how to permanently release that want.
I don’t know what Stella’s doing tonight but I can guarantee you one thing—there’s no way in hell she feels a fraction as satisfied as I do right now.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
THEN
Even though Momand Dad have flown a couple of times in their lives, riding in an airplane is still enough of a novelty to them that I smile as I watch my mother staring out the window, looking as excited as a kid.
Excited enough for her to forget her nerves, at least for a few minutes.
After all, itisAir Force One. One of the most famous planes in the world. The average person doesn’t lose their sense of awe over that after only a couple of flights in it.
I know I don’t.
Currently, we’re winging our way above southern Georgia and are less than an hour from touching down in Florida. I think we’re all over Stella and her bullshit at this point. Apparently she called Mom earlier this morning, just as they were preparing to take off from Nebraska, to presumably make sure they were coming. But then Stella ended up complaining about the flowers not being right and ended up screaming at a poor caterer and hanging up on Mom in the process.
Jordan reported that following the incident Dad took Mom’s cell phone and told her he’d carry it for her today so she doesn’t need to have anything in her hands except her small purse.
Dad wouldn’t let her try calling Stella back, either.
Go, Dad.
I’m not wearing my suit yet but I’m almost ready to change. I wanted to wait until we were closer. I refuse to be uncomfortable for any longer than I need to be today.
Especially not for Stella.
I’m not in the wedding party so, yay, I don’t have to wear a tux.
Ellis’ mother died fifteen years ago. His father, Ludlow McMurtry, is still alive at the ripe old age of ninety-two and reportedly suffering from dementia, but he will be there, so today holds promise of being totally bananapants.
Is it wrong for me to hope thingsdon’tgo smoothly? I mean, I know it’s shitty to think like that but if you’ve met my sister you likely don’t blame me.
Come on, it’s aliteralFlorida Man wedding. I’d be shocked if someone didn’t wrestle an alligator or hunt a manatee or shoot down bald eagles or something equally outrageous.
Dad isn’t wearing his suit jacket right now but he looks amazing. Mom also looks beautiful. Jordan did damned good helping them choose outfits.
“I’m going to go change clothes,” I tell them.
“Go on and change, Mister President,” Casey-Marie says with a smile. “I’ll keep them busy.”
“Thanks.” Oh, yeah. My chief of staff was a last-minute addition to the manifest. Jordan asked her to come with, just in case he needs backup keeping Ellis and his cohorts in line. Leo will likely be too busy helping me and my parents to run interference. Plus Leo isn’t one ofmystaffers, so it would look a little odd if he appeared to be acting on my behalf as a staffer instead of just as a friend.
Despite being a RINO Casey-Marie has quickly become powerful and feared among the GOP on a national level because she’s well-respected amongst the Dems for sticking to her principles, doing what’s right instead of what’s politically expedient, and not joining cults of personality.
She also knows where a lot of metaphorical political bodies are buried, and not just in Tennessee, it would seem. I damned sure wouldn’t want to be on her bad side.
