Kyrie

Purple Rain

V ine'yl is packed when we finally arrive. Luckily, we have a VIP table next to the stage. That's where we find my Dad waiting for us.

"Damn, Presley, are you wearing what I think you're wearing." My Dad's eyes light up like a Christmas tree as his eyes roam over mom's outfit. I'm pretty sure they're going to ditch me tonight.

"Do you like it?" Mom twirls in a circle, giving him a come and get me look.

"I'd like it better if it was crumpled up on our bedroom floor." He lunges for her, nibbling at her neck as he pulls her close to his body.

Gross.

"It's not gross, ," Mom says, making me realize I said the word out loud. "It's human nature to want to procreate." Okay, I was wrong the first time. That wasn't gross—this conversation is.

Trying to change the subject, I turn to my Dad, who is still nuzzling Mom's neck, "What's the name of the band tonight?"

"Hair Comes the Reign. They're an '80s cover band, but they specialize in Prince songs."

"Well, that's an odd combination." I'm not going to complain since I love all things rock music, and of course, I love Prince.

"Here's their playlist." Dad hands me a piece of paper with the songs they'll be singing tonight.

"Thanks." I take the list and scan the song titles—each one is a favorite of mine, starting at the top with Purple Rain. This isn't surprising to me since Dad said they specialize in Prince music, but I'm still a little shocked that every title on the playlist is one of my all-time favorites.

The lights on the stage flicker, alerting the audience that the band will be taking the stage. I set the playlist on the table, giving the stage my full attention. If I'm going to be miserable, at least I'll do so while listening to my favorite songs.

I wait for the stage lights to come on, but when they never do, I stand and excuse myself from the table, telling my parents I'll be right back after I fix the problem. I'm halfway to the bar and the breaker box when I hear his voice singing my favorite Prince song. The way he sings about never wanting to cause any sorrow or pain to the woman he loves has me turning around to face the truth of his words.

He makes his way to my side, finishing the song—singing the words from his heart. Crue lifts his hand to my face and wipes away my tears—tears I didn't even know I was crying.

"Don't cry, Little Songbird—as the song says, I only want to see you laughing. And whether you like it or not, I want to be more than your weekend lover."

When I don't say anything, he motions for his band to take over and play the next song on the playlist. He takes my hand and leads me outside, away from the crowd.

"When I first approached your dad with my plan, I thought he was going to murder me and dump my body somewhere that no one would find it for hurting his only child. But once he cooled off and listened to what my plans were and how deeply I care for you, he finally gave me his blessing and helped me orchestrate everything for tonight." When I still don't say anything, he continues, "I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me to be away from you for all these weeks. But in the short time I've known you, you've become my everything, and without you, I'm lost."

I finally find my voice and ask, "What about my dad's song? Are you still planning on using it on your next album?"

"No. A little birdie once told me to be myself and not to hide behind someone else's success. So that's what I did."

"But…"

"It's my turn to talk, . What you overheard was me trying to explain to the band about the kind of life you had on the road and what it means to accomplish your dreams on your own merit, not the coattails of someone else."

"But you said my life was handed to me on a silver platter."

"That was only the beginning of what I was explaining to them. I had planned to explain how even though you had everything given to you," I raise my hand to interrupt, but he keeps talking. "I'm still talking, and don't try to deny that you didn't lead a charmed life. I was going to tell them that you still weren't happy until you made your own happiness by buying the vineyard and opening your own winery."

"Life on the road wasn't all bad." I cross my arms over my chest, wanting to defend my childhood.

"I never said it was all bad; all I'm saying is that you have to work on having a balance. When your dad offered his song to me on the proverbial silver platter, I could have taken it, and all the dreams I thought I wanted would have come true, but it didn't feel right. So I turned him down and wrote my own song about a headstrong woman that I love with all my heart."

"You love me?"

"Is that really hard to believe? From the moment I heard you sing to the moment I saw your face, and even when you were pushing me away, I'm pretty sure I've loved you since."

I throw my arms around his neck, "I'm pretty sure I've loved you from day one when you broke into my winery and played back up for me."

His mouth captures mine in a deep, toe-curling kiss, one that I've missed all these weeks without him, but the kiss ends too soon as he whispers against my lips, "Come on with have an audience to sing for."