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Parke’s pains were intensifying. He grabbed his chest and yelled for his wife to call 9-1-1. It was too late as he gasped for his last breath and succumbed to darkness. Parke Jamieson VI was dying.
Maybe not.
A slap to his face caused him to spring up, searching for the culprit. His wife’s face came into view. He noted his surroundings. He was in his bedroom, not in an I.C.U. ward. “What happened?” he said, moaning. His jaw was still stinging.
“You were giving someone a beat down in your dream and evidently I got in the way and you elbowed me in my eye. I am too light to be walking around with a black or blue eye and convince people you didn’t assault me.”
Parke cupped her face with both hands. He scrutinized it, then placed soft kisses on her eyes. “I love you and would never hurt you. But I wish I wasn’t dreaming.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Tango and I got into a fight, and he pulled out a gun to shoot me, but I was determined to give him a whipping for messing with my little girl before I went down.”
“God has a plan and His will is perfect, even when our situations seem imperfect to us.”
Fully alert, Parke admired his wife’s outward beauty and her heart, which always seemed to keep him grounded, and strengthened him to fight the demons that taunted him.
Shutting out the world around them, he gave her all of his attention. Soon, Cheney rested her head on his chest, and he closed his eyes.
“Babe, are you going to be okay about all this?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “If it was one of the boys, I would know how to handle disrespect. My daughter...” He sighed. “When did she grow up?”
“It’s called puberty. You’re her father. You have to be the bigger person; stop pouting and be the parent.”
Lifting his head, he stared down at his wife. “I am Parke K. Jamieson, tenth generation descendant—”
“Yea, yea. I know the story. I married you, remember?”
He chuckled. “I’ll never forget. Seriously, I don’t know how to communicate to Kami anymore.” He sounded so distraught.
“Be her father. Every little girl needs a daddy. Trust me, I know.”
He squeezed her shoulder and kissed her head. There was a time his wife and her father lost their bond. It was heartbreaking to see Cheney tormented because she wanted that daddy relationship. He didn’t want his daughter to go through that.
Parke’s level of comprehension was at a standstill. “I just don’t get it. We’ve talked about this. Kami said she wouldn’t let anybody come between her and her daddy. I guess there are exceptions now.” He felt betrayed.
Daddy, I want my husband to be strong, nice, and handsome just like you, she had said as a little girl. That made Parke feel ten feet tall and do everything within his power to protect her from all the decoys out there.
“This is her first love—”
“Ha! If he’s her first love, then there’s little hope for her last love.” Parke knew he should get on his knees and pray instead of obsessing over this situation, but to petition God about something he was so sure about would mean he had failed at his parenting skills. God, why? he screamed silently.
He who overcomes...he who overcomes, God whispered.
Parke listened to the Lord until he sobered from his pity party and exhaled. The promises for overcoming were mentioned throughout Revelation, especially in chapters three and twenty-one. It had been a while since he’d studied that book. Actually, it had been a while since he’d studied his Word period. Yes, he prayed and read the Scripture of the day that was texted to his phone in the mornings, but it was a poor substitute for opening his Bible and reading what Scripture God had for him for the day.
Someone knocked on his bedroom door, interrupting his musing. “Yeah.”
Pace peeked through a crack in the door. “Dad, everyone’s ready for church. We’re downstairs waiting on you and Mom.”
“Kami, too?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, son.” Parke nodded in relief that maybe a return to normalcy was within reach. “We’ll hurry,” he said as Pace closed the door.
At least his eldest never gave him any problems—or have they yet to be seen? This was new territory for him—a relationship with his daughter, who wasn’t a little girl, was proving it. He could no longer mold her according to Philippians 4:8: Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. She wasn’t thinking along those scenarios.
Kami now had a mind of her own, and he prayed she would walk with God this summer as she tasted a hint of her independence. He nudged Cheney. “Get up, babe. It’s praying time.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
On their knees, Cheney surprisingly led the prayer when usually she defaulted to him as head of the home.
“Lord, we thank You for all our blessings near and far off. Thank You for our children whom we shouldn’t have, but You made it possible. Lord, You said it will come to pass in the last days, You’ll pour out of Your Spirit upon all flesh...”
Parke joined in, completing Acts 2:17, “...our sons and daughters shall prophesy, and our young men shall see visions...”
They continued to pray in unison until God’s heavenly tongues spilled from Cheney’s mouth. Once Jesus finished, she whispered, “Lord, give our children the vision to see Your blessings and be faithful to wait for them.”
“In Jesus’ name. Amen,” Parke ended with a renewed faith that Kami would not stray from God.
Less than thirty minutes later while Cheney applied the finishing touches of her makeup, Parke walked downstairs and glanced at his teenagers. Actually, Chance was only ten years old. His youngest son was already tugging on his tie.
It wasn’t that a collared shirt and tie were mandatory for church, but Parke required it of his sons once a month so they would grow accustomed to dressing to impress for future success. He grinned at the boys and mustered a smile at Kami. It’s wasn’t genuine, but he was trying, even if his heart needed time for recovery. His daughter looked away. He exhaled. One prayer wouldn’t be enough to remedy this. Yep, their relationship had been compromised, all because of some boy.
Since Pace purchased his car last year, it became routine for the family to drive two vehicles to church. Sometimes, his other sons rode with Pace. This summer, Kami was supposed to work and Parke would help her buy her first car. At the moment, car or no car, his daughter seemed to rush out the door to jump in her brother’s vehicle.
Who knew a daughter would be so complicated? Despite the current crisis, Parke was proud of his family. His sons bore resemblance of the strong oblong Jamieson jawlines. Kami seemed to fit right in the middle with features similar to Parke’s. People who didn’t know them personally, sometimes pegged Kami and Pace as a young couple, but as siblings, they would quickly correct the misperceptions.
In public, Pace treated and respected Kami as a young lady. Behind closed doors, the masks came off, and they argued about anything from who ate the last slice of pizza to Kami not putting gas in Pace’s car when she used it.
That was a normal family, right? He and Pace arrived at Faith Miracle Church minutes apart. Despite how they came to church, they sat together as a family—all the Jamieson households—so he wasn’t surprised by the cautious stares from relatives, wondering if the everything had been resolved since Friday night’s showdown.
Malcolm stood to shake his hand. “You good, bro?”
“Yeah.”
His father nodded from the other end of the row. Parke lifted his hand in a curt wave before kneeling with other family members to give thanks. He took note that Kami’s knee barely touched the floor. Her lips moved quickly, then she sat on the pew. Parke said an extra prayer for his daughter.
During the praise portion of the service, Kami was usually the first one on her feet. Not this time... Lord, can I be losing her this quickly?
Soon, Pastor Baylor stepped to the podium, greeted the congregation, then opened his Bible. “Today’s sermon is a reminder that God’s will is perfect. Psalm 18:30 says, ‘As for God, His way is perfect: the word of the LORD is tried and true. He is a buckler, a shield of protection, to all those that trust in Him.’ No matter what your eyes see, ears hear, or heart feels, God is in control, even in the time of trouble. You may have peace right now, but trouble will come, and you have to trust our big and powerful God with His own GPS tracker on your situation...”
The message gave Parke renewed hope that everything would be okay. He wondered if his firstborn son ever thought about smarting off to Cheney. She wasn’t his biological mother, but she had mothered him since the judge rescinded the adoption and restored Parke’s parental rights. That was after he learned he had fathered a child with a woman who had died in a car accident and his son was placed in the foster care system. He closed his eyes and praised the Lord Jesus that he had done right by at least one child.
After service, Queen had pulled him aside to double check he hadn’t changed his mind about Kami going away with her for the summer. Now, he wondered if he should call off the trip to Tulsa, seeing glimpses of sadness when the boys talked about their summer plans. Yet, once Parke made decisions concerning his children, he followed through. His daughter would go away for the summer.
That evening, Parke stood in the doorway of Kami’s room and watched her pack a few of her things before he knocked.
“Come in,” she said without glancing over her shoulder.
He entered and waited to be acknowledged. When she didn’t look his way, he crossed the room and made himself comfortable in a chair, then stretched out his legs. His daughter and Cheney had fits if anyone sat on their beds. Neither said a word as she continued her task. Finally, she turned around and flew into his arms.
“Daddy, I’m sorry for the things I said. I love you, and I want you to always be my daddy.”
Daddy. He hadn’t heard that endearment in a while. Standing, he welcomed the embrace as he trapped her in his arms. It seemed as if she had grown in a day. When was the last time he’d hugged her? He kissed her head. “I accept.”
“Were you really going to put me out?” She looked up, tears clinging to her lashes. Fear was in her eyes.
“Probably,” he said without thinking. Despite his weakness for his daughter, Parke refused to back down from tough love, unlike his wife who was too soft. “Grandma BB would send a limo if she thought you would be homeless.” He snickered, then sobered. “As much as I love you, I will demand respect.”
“Yes, sir.”
That had been enough of putting the fear into his daddy’s girl. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He slipped out a hundred-dollar bill and put it in her hand. “Here’s a month’s allowance. I still expect you to find a job while you’re in Tulsa. Behave and be an example.”
“Thank you.” She gave him another squeeze and cried again.
All this crying made Parke glad he didn’t have any more daughters.