“Is that what this is about?”
“They were giving each other looks at the florist, like they were having a secret conversation about me. Then they called me Junior AAA, likening me to Adam. But Britt said I was edging him out for first in the running.”
I laugh again but then she breaks into tears. “I just want it to be perfect! I’ve had lists for years on what this day would look like, but things aren’t turning out how I thought, and nothing is what I pictured and I’m still waiting for thatperfect feeling to hit when I see something letting me know that’s it and it’s not happening, so I don’t know what perfect is supposed to look like anymore!”
She cries this out all in one breath and I hug her close, rock her, kissing her head. “Baby it’s already perfect. We’re already perfect. I have you. There’s nothing else that compares.”
She sighs into me, wiping her face on my shirt. The need for perfection is driving her anxiety. How can I show her no matter how hard we try; perfection can’t be achieved. And she’s going to make herself sick trying to get there.
“Look at me.” I tilt her face towards mine with a tip of her chin. “You’re my best friend and I still can’t believe you said yes.” She cracks a smile. “Swear to God, Chessy, the fact that you chose me all those years ago and you’re still here? Still choosing me? That’s love. Because I’m far from perfect but what we are together? What our love is together? That’s perfection for us.”
She snuggles in. “And honestly there’s no one else I’d rather bail out of jail for threatening our DJ, than you.” She smacks my arm. “I mean, really? You threatened to kick him in the balls, Chesty.” I tsk her, shaking my head.
She tries to pull away, but I keep her pressed tight to me. “I didn’t mean it.” I give her a look. “Well, I meant it, but I wasn’t really going to do it.” She waves her hand dismissively. “I just wanted him to know I was serious.”
I raise a brow. “Serious about his balls? “
“Jacks-off!”
I snigger at her use of my nickname. “Haven’t heard that name in a while,” I wink. “But there’s only one man’s balls you need to be serious about.” I bend at my knees quickly and throw her over my shoulder at her waist. She shrieks as I smack her ass.
“Now come on. You’re going to show me how serious you can be!”
eleven
FRANCESCA
Ineed some time to myself. I recognize it and I need to force myself to take a time out. I’m wrapped up in making this day perfect, and that is not my character. I don’t obsess over tiny details. I don’t make myself sick with anxiety. I know the wedding is just one day and it’s what we do after that one day that counts but I still long for a magical day. We live in Christmas, for goodness sake, who wouldn’t want their day to be magical and perfect? This town embodies magic.
Yes, I’m blaming my hometown for my neurotic tendencies.
So, while Jackson went off to the field, and the girls are busy with their own stuff, I take a walk through town, slowly making my way down the sidewalk, taking in the feel of the town. The air has cooled off, well, cooler than usual for this time of year, but the warmth of Christmas is all around.
You can feel the excitement of the upcoming holiday in this town. They thrive on the spirit of giving and family and it’s exactly the type of place I’d want my kids to grow up. They’ll probably hate it at some point and want to leave like I did, but knowing you are always welcomed home calms my soul.
Britt’s words bounce around in my head. Am I expecting perfection? I know a wedding is a day, but the marriage is a lifetime. Will I be able to separate the two? Will I expect perfection from Jackson? From our life?
The bigger question and what keeps me up at night; will I be able to give perfection to him? Jackson strives to be the best at everything he does, and he’s always gotten it. I love this about him, so why would he not want it now? And if he doesn’t want perfection, like he says, what exactly does he want?
My heart begins to race again, the feeling I know well. Anxiety and sleepless nights have become my friend.
Within minutes I’ve walked the few blocks to my parents’ house and head right inside.
“Mom? Dad?” I call as I enter the foyer, kicking off my shoes and heading towards the kitchen. “Ooh, what smells so good?”
“Francesca!” My mom turns from the stove and runs toward me with arms wide open. You’d think it’s been years since I’ve seen her when in actuality it’s probably been about forty-eight hours. “What are you doing here?” She pauses taking me in. “What’s going on?”
A lump forms in my throat. There’s something about being near my mom that pulls emotions from me. I could never hide anything from her. She could read every emotion on my face, even when I didn’t want her to. And especially when I thought I was hiding my feelings so well.
“Frank, why don’t you take over, I’m going to go have a glass of wine with my girl.” She gives my dad a quick kiss, slides around him to pull out a cold bottle from the fridge. “Come with me, sweetheart.” I follow as she grabs two glasses, and we go into the living room.
I collapse onto the couch, which sits opposite their beautiful Christmas tree in the corner. It’s only about seven feet tall but when I was a kid, it seemed double that. I loved racing down the stairs on Christmas morning and fallingat the foot of this tree, adorned with our ornaments we made in school throughout the years. Mom insisted those were the best ones and hardly ever bought new ones. I do notice one new ornament though, and it makes me smile.
She sits next to me and pours two glasses, passing me one, then sits back next to me with the other glass in hand. “Tell me.”
Tears leak from my eyes. “I don’t even know why I’m crying,” I say, brushing them away.
“I do. I was waiting for you to come to me. Three weeks, Chessy?” She smiles as I shrug sheepishly. “You feel a big change coming, don’t you, even though nothing is going to really change for you two.”
