by HJ Bellus
“Elliot, let’s get ready to go.” I go to the laundry room, gathering his harness and leash. He may have been scared to death of Whit when he popped out of that box, but now he is her shadow.
I find his harness, strapping it on him, and gather the rest of my things. Nana is already down at the parade with the Red Hat Society. They named her Grand Marshall of the parade. It was a few nights spent with tears because we all know Papa would’ve been elated. Nana not so much. She was always in the background making things happen. So she called in her gals from the Red Hat, and it’s going to be one hell of a parade.
Jessie’s truck roars out of the lane. I barely catch the silhouettes of Jessie, Whit, and Max in the back window as the dust billows around them. I can’t even begin to imagine what their dance routine is all about. Jessie and Whit have been tight-lipped about the damn song they’re dancing to. I have no idea.
“Let’s go, pup.” I brush the fur of Elliot the same moment my phone rings.
It’s Tessi, and there’s no way I can deny her call. I know she’s just as stressed out with her two little ones in the parade and in the talent show. Her children have claimed to be magicians, and I’m so excited to see all of it.
“Hey.” I clutch the phone between my shoulder and neck as I adjust the harness on Elliot.
“Thank God you answered.”
“I’m here.” I smile through my words.
“What are you wearing?”
“Clothes,” I respond, knowing exactly how psycho she is about this shit.
“Asshole. Like what are you wearing to the parade and rodeo? Are you getting all fancy or is it like a mom bun, yoga pants type of day?”
I peer down at my white Chucks, then up my tan legs to my cut-off shorts to my black tank top. “Um, just shorts and a tank.”
“Do you have make-up on? Eyeliner? Is your hair done?”
“Tessi,” I bark into the phone. “I do have make-up on, including eyeliner, brow definer, and lipstick. What in the hell is going on?”
“I need help,” she huffs into the phone.
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Chapter 24
Jessie
“We’ve got this, Daddy.” Whit clutches my hand, grinning up at me.
“Hell yeah, we do.” I kneel down next to her.
“Hell yeah,” she whispers.
Shit. I don’t bother with the fatherly talk on not using that word. Whit is cool as a cucumber, and I’m a ball of nerves. I don’t remember being this tied up with anxiety over any damn football game.
“I hope Momma doesn’t eat too much of my candy from the parade.” Whit nibbles on her bottom lip. “That was so fun, Daddy. I’ve never been to one.”
I chuckle. She’s eating up everything about the town celebration. I cannot wait to see her face tonight at the carnival.
“I’ll buy you more if she does, baby girl.” I hitch out a knee and pull her onto it. Whit relaxes back, resting her stiff, hair-sprayed hair on my shoulder, watching the other acts perform.
“I know you will, Daddy.”
She remains silent through the next few acts, studying each and every one of them. They suck compared to what we have up our sleeves. My mom and Jane went all out on the costumes. It took everything inside of me not to bark a protest when they revealed them to me. It was the gleam of sheer happiness in Whit’s eyes that held me back.
“We are almost up, Daddy.” Whit slides off my knee, righting her signature tutu, then her tiny palms rest on the tops of my shoulders. “Remember to really shake your hips at that one part and don’t forget your spin jump. You’ve been doing really good on those.”
I smirk. “You got it, kid.”
I reach for my cell phone to place it on the table before we go on stage.
“Hey, Whit, selfie time.”
She lights up like a firework on the Fourth of July. My camera roll is filled with endless selfies of her cute face. It’s her favorite thing to do. She’s been begging for a phone for the sole purpose of taking selfies.
She leans back on my chest, props a hand on her hip with all the sass in the world, and smiles. The smile on my face is a mile wide. The gold chains around our necks shine in the picture. My sideways ball cap and gold tooth finish off my look. That’s right—we are dressed up as hip-hop as it gets, right down to my MC Hammer pants.
“One more, then it’s us!” Whit claps her hands together.
“Hey, I’ve got something for you.” I reach back down in my pocket and take a moment to clear my throat.
“Flowers for good luck? All dancers get flowers, Daddy.”
Well, shit. Guess I’ll know for next time.
I shake my head and open my palm to display a sterling silver bracelet with tiny ballerina dancers dangling off of it. “I love you so much, Whit, and wanted to give you something that you can wear to remind you of it everywhere you go.”
I don’t say anything else because I’m on the damn verge of tears.
“I love it.” She wraps her arms around my neck. “And I love you.”
***
Jules
“That was brutal.” Tessi buries her face in her palms.
“It wasn’t that bad.” I shrug. “At least they had the courage to get up there.”
“You don’t have to sugar coat it. They put like ten minutes of their time into it. Pretty sure they just wanted up there on that stage.”
“I’m thinking all the participants did that so far.” I dig around Whit’s candy bag until I find taffy.
All in all, this afternoon has been fabulous. Of course, there were stares and hushed whispers and even a few who had the audacity to ask about me and Jessie. It stemmed from curiosity and not a place of hate. It’s only natural for that curiosity to turn into gossip in a small town, and I’m okay with that.
I check the program to see Whit and Jessie are up next. “I’m not going to lie, Tessi, I’m damn nervous. Whit and Jessie have been practicing a ton. She has high expectations, and we all know Jessie isn’t the best dancer.”
Tessi snorts. “Don’t worry. Brady said that little Whit has been whipping Jessie into shape.”
“Have you seen them practice?” I turn to her, slapping her shoulder.
“No.” She raises both hands. “Brady has and told me about it.”
Before I get a chance to grill her about every single detail, the lights on the stage black out. I feel a reassuring squeeze on my shoulder from behind me. I glance back to see Nana smiling brightly, sitting beside Tim and Carolyn, who both have their phones poised to record.
The light screeching of a microphone echoes through the auditorium. Butterflies swarm in my belly. I perch on the edge of my seat, chewing my fingernails, nervous as hell for the loves of my life.
A throat clears into the microphone, then Whit’s sweet voice serenades the crowd. “I’ve learned in life that you just have to shake it off when you’re feeling lonely, mad, or upset. I’ve had to do that a lot this summer, and that’s why I picked this song to dance with my daddy. I hope you enjoy it.”
The mic screeches again. Goosebumps race all over my skin, tingling with pride like I’ve never felt before. The lights flash back on, and the curtains dramatically open. I have no doubt that all of this was finely planned out by Jess and Whit. I can barely make out Max off to the right, running lights.
The first few fiery beats of “Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift begin pumping. There’s an elated gasp from the crowd when Whit is thrown up onto the stage and lands on her feet. Jessie follows behind her, jumping up onto the stage, and then it’s on. This is nothing like Whit’s dance recitals back in California.
The front rows are up on their feet, intrigued by the performance. I hop up on mine and thank God Carolyn is recording this because it’s hard to make out much through tears streaming down my face. A thick, roped gold chain is wrapped around Whit’s neck, each one of her fingers are blinged out with rings, her hair styled perfectly in a side ponytail, a
black leather jacket with a red shirt under it and finally her black tutu. The costume is wild and so perfect. Jessie matches in every aspect except the tutu.
During the chorus of the song, Jessie and Whit shake their hips and stomp their feet in perfect unison. Whit sways her hips back and forth, shaking her head at Jessie. He runs to the back of the stage, gives her a wink, and then does some kind of jump, twirl move, ending it by sliding on his knees right in front of Whit.
She ends the song with more stomps and dance moves. She hitches her boot up on Jessie’s thigh, and they both cross their arms in unison as the final beat of the song plays.
The audience erupts in wild cheers. A line of Jessie’s players walks up to the stage, and soon the two are showered in roses of every color. Whit leaps towards each one with a huge smile on her face. Jessie shakes his head. I know he’s more than ready to be off that stage and out of that outfit, but he stays up there for his little girl.
When Whit collects the last rose, Jessie scoops her up in his arms. She waves to the crowd, who is still cheering and ahhing over their performance. Then just like it began, it ends with a dramatic sweep of the curtains.
“Jules, that was amazing.” Tessi grabs my forearm.
I nod. “I have to go.”
I sidestep down the row until I’m in the aisle. I remember this old auditorium like it was yesterday. I race down to the double doors that lead to the back of the stage. I shove and push through a few crowds of people until I’m backstage. I hear her giggle and Jessie’s deep laugh. I follow it, growing more urgent as the seconds tick by.
I round a corner, and they come into view. Whit is still in her daddy’s strong arms with the roses clutched to her chest and Max at their side.
“Momma!” she squeals when she catches sight of me. “Look what Max did. Daddy didn’t know you’re supposed to get dancers flowers, but Max did.”
“Squirt, you told me every day about the flowers when I was changing water.” Max tucks his hands in his pockets, blushing with embarrassment.
I take it up a step, wrapping my arms around Max and hugging the hell out of him. “Thank you, Max. You’re a great kid and part of us.”
“Awards,” Whit squeals and squirms out of Jessie’s arms. “Come on, Max. Let’s go sit in the front row.”
She grabs his hand and stares up at him.
“Oh, Momma.”
“Yeah?” I grab her real quick for a hug.
“I don’t want a pony anymore. I want Max to be my brother.”
Max chokes, and I remain shocked for a bit. Jessie steps up behind me, pulling me back into his chest. “Done deal. Max is a part of this craziness and stuck with us.”
I swallow down the emotions. “He sure is.”
“Okay.” Whit clutches back to his hand and leads him away, skipping. Poor Max remains shell-shocked.
He stops and looks back at us for a second. “I didn’t tell her to say that. I may have hinted pretty hard for food in the beginning, but I had nothing to do with that.”
Jessie’s laughter vibrates off my back. I wave him off. “Max, you’ll learn she’s a force to be reckoned with. No worries.”
“Awards.” Whit tugs on his hand, and they disappear out the side door.
“So.” Jessie dips his head into my neck. “What did you think?”
“I’ve never been prouder.”
“My Church” by Maren Morris begins playing. Jessie and I find ourselves rocking back and forth in each other.
“Remember all our make-out sessions back here?”
“Fuck yes, I do,” he growls into my neck.
“Five minutes until awards,” a voice announces, then Maren begins singing again.
I turn in Jessie’s arms, lacing my arms around his neck, his hands go to my waist, and we continue dancing to our own beat.
“Today has been the best day of my life.” I run my hands through his hair peeking out of the ball cap.
He smiles wide. I throw my head back and laugh my ass off.
“You have to take that off.” I reach for the gold cap on his front tooth.
“Hey, you’re ruining my street cred here.” He tugs me to his chest. “On a serious note, I was planning to do this tonight at the top of the Ferris wheel.”
“Jessie.” I pull back, staring up into those rich chocolate eyes.
“You always told me it was the only way you’d say yes. It had to be when we were on the Ferris wheel perched at the top looking over Boone. Thing is I can’t wait a fucking second longer.” Jessie reaches into his pocket then slips a ring on my finger. “I’m not even asking because you’re mine and I’m never letting you go.”
I glance down at the ring I picked out years ago to see it shine on my finger.
“Jessie.” His name comes out in a broken whisper.
“Yeah?” He drops his lips to my forehead.
I continue to stare at our future perched on my finger. “I would’ve said yes if you had asked, but then you know that.”
“Time for awards,” a voice booms.
Jessie turns me around, so we are both facing the stage. I can make out Whit with a bag of cotton candy in the front row with Max and some of her dance friends. That girl is going to have the world’s worst stomachache. We don’t move, choosing to watch the awards from the side of the stage.
“First off, thank you for all the talent of Boone coming out and sharing it with us. It was a tough decision for our judges.”
“Bullshit,” Jessie hisses in my ear. “Those other acts sucked ass.”
I pat his forearm and shake my head.
“First place will receive three hundred dollars.” The announcer clears his throat. “And it seems this year R & R Ranch of Boone has generously donated a pony for first place.”
A piercing squeal comes from the audience, and I have no doubt it was my daughter.
I freeze and whip around in Jessie’s arms. “You didn’t.”
His smirk tells me he did. “Anything for my girls.”
“Did you pay off the judges too? How did you know you’d win?”
“It runs in the blood, baby; we don’t lose.” He winks.
I roll my eyes and turn back to the awards.
“This year’s Boone Talent Show winner goes to the very talented and entertaining Whit and Jessie…”
The announcer is cut off when the crowd goes wild. Max leaps to his feet, hoisting Whit up on the stage, and I’m tugged out to the stage.
“Jessie, no, this is your win with her.”
He stops cups my cheek. “Because of you. Now get your sexy ass out here.”
Epilogue
Jules
“Whit, are you about ready to leave?” I holler down the hallway before entering my bedroom.
“Five seconds, Momma.”
I set the pile of freshly folded clothes on the bed. A worn paperback gets my attention on Jessie’s side of the bed. It’s our book. He’s read it over and over since the day I gave it to him and told him I’m an author. Yesterday Is Gone was written in a week and a half. My publisher fast-tracked it to get it out to the world. And to this day, it’s been my best seller and is currently in production in Hollywood. My words will hit the big screens all across the nation in six months.
It’s my second season being the wife of Boone’s football head coach, a title that I’ll always cherish and hold dear. Years stood between us truly becoming a family, so we didn’t wait to plan a wedding, not even a small one. The courthouse, Whit, Nana, Jessie’s parents, and our friends were the only things needed. Cody graciously hosted our reception at his bar, kicking out the public. Whit downed a dozen Shirley Temples that night, ending up sick and vomiting in a bathroom stall. Cody boasted it was the magic and charm of his bar. He went another step further, harassing Jessie about the fact in a matter of years she’d be puking because of alcohol and chasing men. It started a wrestling match that involved our wedding cake.
We moved into our home that Jessie built with his own ha
nds a few months ago. It’s taking time to settle in. The messes in every corner and still packed boxes don’t make me flinch because I’m truly home.
“Momma, is this B crooked?” Whit bounds in the room, smiling. She’s lost her two front teeth. I can never get enough of the cuteness. I pray they grow back in slowly because there’s nothing cuter than a toothless little girl.
“No, looks good, honey.” I grab our winter jackets out of the closet. “Go potty before we leave.”
I swear Whit spends all her money at the Booster’s club booth at every game. She owns every piece of Boone apparel even down to the face tattoos. She bleeds Boone school spirit. Her heart has truly found its home. Jessie hasn’t given up on his little girl becoming an athlete. He hasn’t verbalized the fact it would kill him if his daughter was a cheerleader. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt he will be her biggest fan even if it kills him.
Rustling then slight cries come from the crib in the corner of our bedroom.
“Perfect timing, little man.” I peer down into the crib to see my precious, chubby dark-haired baby.
Jack grins and coos up at me when he sees me. I guess Jessie and I never learned life’s basic lesson on getting knocked up. We were swept away with our intense love and longing for one another, never thinking about protection. And that was our best mistake because Jack was born in the middle of March. He’s every bit his father’s child. A damn near replica.
“Let’s get you bundled up, little man, because when the sun goes down and those Friday night lights shine bright, it’s going to get chilly.”
“Momma, let’s go. I’m going to be pissed if I miss the kick off.” Whit hoists the diaper bag over her shoulder.
“Language,” I warn.
“You know the rules.” She winks at me. “Anyone can cuss when it’s football season.”
Damn, Jessie.
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