Walking the Crimson Road

by Perrie Patterson

  Our seats are on the lower level, and we can walk right up to the field.

  Lauren texts back. I’ve got friends sleeping over tonight. I’ll unlock the basement. We’ll be staying down there. What time do u think u will get home?

  5 a.m.

  Stay out of trouble. I send her a thumbs up emoji.

  The game is tied at the start of the fourth quarter. Everyone in the stands, the players and coaches hold up four fingers announcing that we’ll own the fourth quarter. Our QB throws to a receiver a clean catch. He runs all the way to end zone before he’s tackled, but he manages to get the ball over the line. The extra point is good, and we’re now up by seven. The gators don’t have good field position. With only a few minutes left on the clock, Florida’s QB throws the ball high and long, but Bama intercepts it.

  With seventeen-seconds left on the clock we line up and take a knee. The clock runs out and the ceiling in the stadium opens. Fireworks go off, with confetti falling from the sky. Lane and I are jumping up and down, and the chant all across the stadium by thousands of Bama fans becomes louder and louder, “Hey, Gators, we just beat the hell outta you! Ramma Jamma Yella Hammer Giv’em Hell, Alabama.” The crowds continue the chant, while the students and band rush out on the field to congratulate the players. I find Bella and Lexi, and we run up and hug each other. Alabama has just won another SEC championship game. Press, newspapers, television stations and reporters are on the field in droves. Lane and I are covered in confetti and filled with joy.

  We watch with anticipation as Coach, dripping with Gatorade, takes the stage for his speech, flanked by players in the starting lineup. I film the speech live on my Instagram as confetti continues to fall from the ceiling. The fireworks end, and the ceiling closes. Bama fans remain in the stadium for the SEC trophy presentation and speeches from the coaches. Bella, Lane, Lexi and I move off the field and over to the side and watch the presentations.

  When the players finally head to the locker room, Bella and Lexi say they’re going to go walk back to their hotel to change. I tell them I’m going to hang out with Lane tonight. I hug them both and we say our goodbyes.

  Lane takes my hand and asks, “Ready for the party of a lifetime?”

  I smile and say, “I hope so.”

  He laughs and says, “Let’s go.”

  We get on the elevator and Lane presses a special button. He pulls out a key card to insert into the elevator that takes us to a private entrance. We get off the elevator and walk into a beautiful room with marble floors and dim lighting. I hear music playing, a song by Migos called “Culture” is turned up loud. We continue walking, and I see it really is Migos in person. My knees buckle. I almost hit the floor. I grab Lane by the arm and scream “Oh My God! Migos are actually here!”

  Lane smiles at me and places his hand at the small of my back as we move into the party. I see more people that I recognize from earlier tonight who spoke to Lane and me during dinner. It looks like only twenty-five people are here. But there’s a full bar, a full buffet, and a few of Migos’ entourage hanging out with us, too.

  The bar and buffet are set up overlooking the field, so we can see cleanup crews cleaning up the confetti. From the reflections in the glass that overlook the field I can tell that Lane and I still have confetti in our hair. Lane asks if I want a tour. We grab a few drinks and walk up a marble staircase onto a balcony that overlooks the main floor. From above I can see people dancing and taking selfies with Migos in the background. We turn around and see a huge room with glass sky lights. There are plush sofas, chairs, a gas fireplace and a large animal rug over a beautiful tile floor. Off to the right is a bedroom with a king- sized bed and a door open to a large bathroom. I walk into the bathroom and marvel at the size. “This bathroom is as big as my bedroom,” I say in awe.

  The floor and the walls are marble. There is a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling. The ornamental piece of the bathroom is a huge jacuzzi tub. Directly behind the tub is a wall of floor to ceiling windows. Lane follows me into the bathroom.

  “Is this where Coach is staying?”

  He laughs and says, “No, it’s the owner’s suite.”

  “Does he know that we’re in here? I mean I guess someone does, since we had private access to the private entrance.”

  “Yes, he knows that there’s a private party in here tonight.”

  “How in the world are we able to be in here for a private party with famous Atlanta rappers?”

  “My fraternity brother James’ grandfather founded the Zaxby’s restaurant chain. Migos are big fans of Zaxby’s. They get free food, other perks and were paid well to do a private show. James’ grandfather is friends with the Falcons owner. He and his grandfather helped set up this special celebratory event tonight. They probably knew Alabama would win.”

  We walk over to the window. Lane pulls me close, and we gaze out at the beautiful view. Looking out the window, we can see for miles the impressive nighttime skyline of Atlanta.

  “This is the most breathtaking view.”

  Lane whispers, “This is what I’ve wanted to do all night, have you all to myself, somewhere romantic and elegant.”

  He leans down, we kiss, and I’m lost forgetting about everything. Our kisses become more passionate, but we’re interrupted by a girl named Haley.

  “Hey, y’all, someone’s in the bathroom downstairs so I came up here.”

  Lane and I walk out onto the balcony that overlooks the main room.

  “Let’s dance and see if we can get pictures with all three of the guys when they take a break.”

  We dance to “Pipe it up” before they take a break. One of their entourage puts on a soundtrack. Lane and I introduce ourselves, and we get several pictures with Quavo, Offset and Takeoff. Someone hands them drinks, and they walk out to the seats overlooking the field just beyond the wall of windows.

  “Wow, we just met Migos. This is the best night ever. I feel like I’m in a dream,” I say, giddy and silly.

  Lane and I walk over to the couch in front of the fireplace and sit for a while. I snuggle up to him and put my head on his shoulder.

  “This is the perfect private party and the perfect way to end a perfect game day.”

  He leans down, kisses my cheek, and whispers, “I am going to miss the hell out of you these next few weeks.”

  “What time does your plane leave tomorrow?”

  “Around 2:00. After I drop you off, I’m staying with James, he doesn’t live too far away. I’ll get a little sleep and leave my car at his house. He’ll drop me off at the airport at 1:00.”

  I pull out my phone and see that it’s 2 a.m. I scroll through pictures from tonight. I want to post the one of Lane and me with Migos. Lane tells me not to tag the location. He tells me to use a different location for the photo and reminds me this is a secret private event and not to mention where the party took place. I nod and say, “Okay” then add my caption for our photo with Migos. BAMA made the plays, and MIGOS made our night. #bama #rolltide #SECchamps I let Lane look at it. Since he approves, I post it.

  Migos comes back from their break and start up a new song. All the lights go out and it’s just candlelight, the lights on the Christmas tree and the glow of the fireplace. We stand and slow dance to the next song before they break into “Out Yo Way.” Their last song picks up speed, and they end the night with “Bad and Boujee.” A couple of police officers show up and escort them and their entourage through the private elevator entrance. When they let the cleaning crew in, we decide it’s time to leave. We say good night to Lane’s friends and walk down to the parking garage. I give Lane my address, and he puts it into his GPS.

  We pull up to my house at 4:30 in the morning, and all is quiet. Lane kills the engine and the lights. Trying to be stealthy, we parked along the street instead of the driveway. He pops the trunk and helps me carry my luggage through the gate into the backyard. The basement door under the deck is unlocked, just like Lauren promised. We
step inside the living room and see two girls asleep on the couch. One is Lauren and three more are asleep atop air mattresses on the floor. We tiptoe upstairs to the main floor.

  I whisper to Lane, “I can manage the bags the rest of the way.”

  “No way, I’m this far into your house, I’m going all the way into your room.”

  We try to be as quiet as we can, but I’m on the verge of busting out laughing. We get to the top of the stairs with only a few minor creaking sounds. I hear the dog come running out of Mom and Dad’s room. I quickly grab him up in my arms to keep him quiet. I tiptoe into my room and Lane follows me. He sets the bags down, and I put the dog on my bed. Lane and I both try to suppress our giggles as he pulls me in, one hand around my waist, the other grips the back of my head. I tilt my head back, and close my eyes as our lips meet, soft and gentle, before becoming hungry and passionate. All I want to do is continue to kiss him for a million, trillion years, but I know he has to drive to his fraternity brother’s house then later get on a plane to Aspen.

  I whisper, “I’m going to miss you so much. I’m glad I got to spend all day and night with you.”

  “I wish I could stay in your room all night,” he whispers while lightly kissing my neck.

  He leans in and kisses me again, his tongue softly meeting mine. Not wanting him to leave, I finally pull away and walk him back down the stairs, back to the basement and out to the patio under the deck. We kiss again and whisper goodnight. I watch as he walks out the gate. I lock the door and quickly run back to my room and watch from the window as his car drives away.

  I pull out my favorite Pj pants, slip them on and crawl under the covers. My dog Micky crawls under the covers with me and snuggles down. I plug my phone into my charger next to my bed. It’s 5 a.m. “Wow, I’ve just had the best day of my life,” I whisper, patting Micky on the head.

  30

  #Jomonotfomo

  Rolling over feeling groggy and totally incoherent I think I hear people up moving about making breakfast and talking. Micky starts to bark at the door, so I open it to let him out. I look at my phone. It’s only 7:30. Seeing a text from Lane from an hour ago makes me smile. I’m at James’ house about to go to sleep. I miss u already. Sighing with contentment, I fall back to sleep. I’m awakened again, this time it’s Lauren standing over me. I ask her what time it is.

  “9:00,” she says.

  “I’m staying in bed,” I say, pulling the covers higher.

  “Okay, I told Mom you were asleep. She still wants me to ask if you’re going to church with us.”

  “Tell her no, please.”

  “I will. But I saw you posted a picture with Migos.”

  I’ve got my eyes closed, trying to go back to sleep, so I’m not looking at Lauren. I know she’s hovering over me. I can feel it. She’s probably standing over my bed, wringing her hands, looking like the Grinch about to steal Christmas.

  “I’ll tell you about it later,” I say, angry and annoyed.

  I think she realizes I’m getting peeved and leaves. Later that afternoon, Mom wakes me up.

  “Bex, everyone is back from lunch,” she says, peering into my room. “We brought you something to eat, if you want to come downstairs.”

  I mumble, “Thank you, I’ll be down in a few minutes,” from deep under the covers.

  After lunch I wander back to my room to shower. Lauren walks in and asks if I want to go Christmas shopping with her.

  “Sure, give me fifteen minutes.”

  We have three cars, and the one Lauren drives now is the car our parents bought me when I got my driver’s license. After I went off to college Lauren started driving it to school, and my parents didn’t really think I needed a car at college. I think they thought at eighteen I was too young to be driving myself back and forth to Tuscaloosa, but I’m hoping for a car for Christmas. I let Lauren drive, since I feel like it’s her car anyway.

  As soon as we get in Lauren looks at me with a wicked gleam and says, “Spill, you and Lane were partying with Migos last night?”

  “Yes, but you have to swear to me that you won’t tell anyone where the party was. It was a private party in a secret location.”

  “Like how private?”

  “There were only about twenty-five people there, including Migos and their entourage.”

  “Start the car or I’m going to drive,” I say, motioning with my hands to get going.

  She starts the car, but her mouth is still hanging open.

  “Look, Lauren, I’m serious. I’m not supposed to tell anyone where the party was.”

  “But I’m your sister. You can trust me not to say anything.”

  “You can’t tell Mom and Dad, you can’t tell your friends, you can’t tell Brian, no one and nobody. And that goes for as long as you live. I feel like you need to swear on a Bible or something.”

  “Well, if you look in the console, you’ll see my Bible and my notebook.”

  I open the console, and sure enough, it’s there. I take it out and hold it in my lap. When we get to the parking deck, I hold up the Bible and Lauren puts her left hand on top and holds her right hand in the air.

  “Swear you’ll never tell anyone what I’m about to say, and if someone asks about it, tell them that I was at someone’s home in Buckhead.”

  Lauren nods and says, “I swear to keep your secret forever.”

  “We were in the owner’s suite inside Mercedes Benz stadium, and it was just a few of Lane’s fraternity brothers and their dates from the secret society.”

  Lauren looks like she’s about to combust. “Secret society, private party with Migos, inside a suite at the Mercedes Benz stadium. OMG, this is just like in Gilmore Girls when Rory was dating Logan at Yale, and they were in that secret society and had crazy secret parties.”

  “Yeah kind of, but this is real life.”

  “Your sophomore year is turning out to be more than a little interesting.”

  I roll my eyes at her as I step out of the car.

  Christmas cheer is in the air as we walk around marveling over the enchanting decorations and the skaters on the ice rink. We go inside all our favorite stores. Lauren finds something for one of her best friends and something for Mom. We go into Vineyard Vines, and even though I know everything in the store looks like Lane, I feel like there’s nothing here that would seem special enough for a gift.

  “I just don’t know what to get Lane,” I say, a little flustered.

  Lauren is combing through men’s shirts but turns to look at me. “What does he like?”

  “Well, he would like everything in here, I think, but none of its unique enough. What do you get someone who seems to have everything?” I ask, not really expecting her to answer.

  “I know that’s a hard one. I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Lauren gives me a knowing look, with a hint of drama in her voice. “I can think of something he hasn’t had that he would love as a gift.”

  She’s still giving me that look with a smirk on her face. I figure out what her meaning is, and I slap her butt.

  “Lauren, I can’t believe you,” I say, a bit embarrassed. “Your mind is in the gutter, and it needs to stay out of there. You know I’m not like that, and you shouldn’t even be thinking that way.”

  “It was supposed to be a joke. I was just trying to make light of the situation.”

  I exhale with a loud huff. “You better be joking.”

  We continue shopping, and I find a golf shirt for Dad. Lauren picks out a flannel for Brian. We wait on our packages to be wrapped then leave Vineyard Vines to walk to the KSO store. I find a gift for Mom and a little something for Lexi and Bella. On the way home, I get a text from Lane, saying he’s arrived at his house in Aspen. I text back a heart emoji, and I miss u.

  He texts back a kissy face emoji, and I miss u more. I almost start to cry. I tear up a little, and Lauren asks if I’m okay.

  “Yes, I’m missing Lane. He just texted me that he’s at his house in Aspen.”
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  We stuff our shopping bags into the car and head home. Walking inside, the aroma of fresh popcorn and pizza is welcoming. Mom saved one of our three Christmas trees for us to decorate as a family. We have one tree in the living room, one in the foyer, and a tree in the basement. Lauren and I each have trees in our rooms. The tree Mom left us to decorate together is the tree in the foyer that she calls the travel tree. This is the one with ornaments from a lot of the places we’ve stayed, vacationed, or visited over the years. Lauren and I grab a slice of pizza and wander over to the tree to work on decorating it.

  Mom hands me the latest ornament, a mermaid with the words Cumberland Island printed across the mermaid’s tail. Dad turns on Christmas music, and we’re all in a festive mood as we decorate the tree. I love remembering each place we’ve visited as we reminisce, talking about each ornament. We each share something fun about a trip as we pick up an ornament from the box. We have lots of ornaments from Disney World. Lauren says she wants to go back one more time before she leaves for college.

  By ten o’clock everyone but the dog and I have gone to bed. Since I slept so late, I’m not feeling sleepy, so I turn on the TV to see what’s on. I flip through the channels and something catches my eye. It’s a documentary about JFK, Jr., and it shows him and Carolyn Bessette on their wedding day. They’re walking out of the little church on Cumberland Island. That snags my attention. I hit pause and replay it. I watch the entire documentary. I’m intrigued with the magazine he started, his life, his fun-loving carefree personality, like kayaking in the Hudson with his best friend at midnight. The fact that he got married on Cumberland Island in the little church, the very same place I was at just last month, all of this is fascinating. An idea for a story hits me like a ton of bricks. I run up to my room, turn on my computer and I start writing my story for Professor Brigg’s class.

  ———Prince of the Past———

  It’s been almost twelve years since we left the monastery in Cadaques and arrived in the coastal city of Valencia, Spain. The monks helped me track down my great aunt’s family and connected us with her daughter, a doctor at Santa Maria De Ripoll. I can’t believe Jackson (Joaquim, as he’s known here in Spain) will be eighteen in a few weeks. Watching him now as he maneuvers his sailboat toward the dock, he looks so handsome like his father. I’m starting to feel melancholy with his graduation approaching. It’s time that I tell him his story, the story of his parents, and the story of his miraculous birth. I know he vaguely remembers the lessons at the monastery before we arrived here when he was six, but he knows nothing of his birth. The monks kept us safe and stored our papers and detailed documents provided by the hospital in Stockholm until we were ready to move. The monks provided us with new papers, so we could blend in once we arrived in Valencia. Having found the daughter of a distant relative, who is also a doctor, has been a blessing for us, and I owe her my life.