Chapter 35 FRANCESCA
twenty-eight
FRANCESCA
Father/Daughter Dance
The night is flying by but I’m forcing myself to stop and remember.
The instant we walked in, and I saw the chandelier, I stopped and whispered to myself, “remember this moment.” When Jackson held me in his arms and sang the words to our first dance to me, I whispered to myself, “remember this moment.”
Now I’m walking arm in arm with my dad onto the dancefloor for our father/daughter dance and I’m whispering, “remember this moment.”
‘I Loved her First’ by Heartland fills the room. I’ve listened to this song on repeat over the last few weeks hoping I’d become immune to the words. I didn’t want to be out in the middle of the dancefloor bawling my eyes out with my dad. But the emotion spilling from us is too much to be held back.
“Are you happy, Francesca?”
“More than I ever thought possible, dad.” I look past my dad’s shoulder and see Jackson standing next to my mom, his arm wrapped around her while she dabs her tears away.
He hugs me close, the scent of his aftershave filling my senses, pulling memories to the forefront of my mind.
Dad would come home from a long day of construction work, shower, shave and then put on his aftershave before coming down into the kitchen to kiss mom hello.
He’d then grab me, and we would dance around the kitchen while mom made dinner and the boys would get yelled at for tossing a football in the house.
“Good to know,” he whispers in my ear. “Your mom told me about yours and her conversation last week. I want you to know everything she said, I second. If ever there have been two people who are meant for each other, it’s you guys.”
“I believe it.”
“You should. I’ve watched that boy watch you since you were twelve years old.
I knew he had it in him to become the great man you needed.
It’s hard for a father to let go of their girl, especially their only girl.
‘It’s hard to give her away, I loved you first’,” he smiles, quoting the song, “but the day Jackson asked for my permission to marry you, was the day I stopped worrying about who would take care of you when I’m gone. ”
And cue the tears.
“I love you, Francesca.”
“I love you too, Dad,” I choke out on a sob as he pulls me in tight.
“Now let’s hope Adam will stop worrying, too.”
Our guffaws break through as the DJ announces the mother/son dance. There’s a hush throughout the crowd as Jackson takes my moms’ hand and leads her to take our place on the dancefloor. The four of us stop and give a quick hug before dad leads me off to the side to stand and watch them.