CHAPTER 24 - Rosie

I n the morning Amon pulls me into the shower. It's early, like way too early. Four a.m. early. But it's Sunday. Revival day. And not just any Revival day, but Fourth of July Revival day. Which means we gotta be back in Disciple by eight so I can be ready for the show.

While we're in the shower I feel this urgency to hurry. But he's soaping me up, and caressing those bubbles all up and down my body, and I just don't have the willpower to make him stop. So when he pushes me up against the wall and presses his cock into my ass, I don't even think about telling him no.

Last night was glorious. And I want to be with this man forever and ever. And let him take me any way he wants. Any way he wants. Because after last night I know something new about him. I know that he will make the sex exciting, and he will make me nervous—but he will not hurt me. Ever.

Amon Parrish might be a dangerous man to some, but he's not to me.

I fall asleep as soon as we get on the highway, and I stay asleep until we come to a stop and Amon is gently pushing on my shoulder.

"Wake up, Rosie. We're home."

I look up, wondering which home, and see that we are idling in front of Lowyn's house in town. I let out a sigh, desperately wishing there was no Revival today, but that's when I see the porch is covered in boxes. "What's that?" I ask, pushing wild hair out of my eyes with one hand and pointing to the porch with the other.

Amon has a scheming glint in his eye when I look at him. And he's grinning like a fool. "That, dear Rosie, is a costume change."

I gasp. Loud. And my eyes go wide. "What?"

"A costume change."

I look around, confused. "Well… Lowyn doesn't live here. I live here."

Amon laughs. "I know. That's why the boxes are on the porch."

I point to myself, blinking and still confused. "Those boxes are for me ?"

"Of course they are. Why do you say it like that?"

"Because… well"—I take a deep breath—"I'm not a star. I'm a side character. I've never had a starring role in my life. And side characters don't need costume changes."

Amon pulls the truck into my driveway and shuts it off. Then he reaches for me. "Oh, Rosie. There has never been a woman more deserving of a starring role than you."

"You did this?" I laugh. "This is a date, isn't it?"

"It's a date. I asked Jim Bob to make it happen."

I squint a little. "In return for what?"

"For me coming back to the Revival."

"And you agreed!"

"Why wouldn't I? It's not a hardship, that's for sure. I mean, I'll be spending every weekend with you. And"—he opens his door—"we're the stars of the show. So how fun is that?"

I'm still processing this as he closes the door and walks around to my side to open mine. "But"—he waves his hand, inviting me to step out. I get out—"but Grimm and Taylor are the stars. There's a great big story going with the two of them. And she's pregnant and he's…"

I stop.

Amon laughs.

"Oh, my God. Jim Bob did not write a trampy single mother into the Revival!"

Amon's still laughing. "Well, I don't know. He didn't tell me, but knowing Jim Bob, and after what he did to Collin?—"

"I'm a trampy single mother! Oh, Taylor was so pissed off about this role. She hates Grimm already, and this—well, let's just say that Jim Bob plays up everybody's bad side. He was getting all hot about it. So does that mean I have to hate you and be pregnant with your baby?"

Amon could not smile any bigger. "I doubt that, Rosie. But the only way to know for sure is to open all those packages and read the new script."

I look at the porch again. There are so many boxes. Not crappy cardboard boxes, either. But really nice shiny, glossy boxes with satin ribbons. And at least one of them is very big.

"Come on." Amon takes my hand. "It's already seven-thirty. We need to get dressed. We've got a big day coming."

There are at least a dozen packages that we take inside and Amon places them in two piles. One for me and one for him. The huge box is in my pile.

I bite my lip, nearly bursting out of my skin with anticipation as I kneel down next to it and tug on that gorgeous satin ribbon the color of sparkling champagne.

It's a dress, obviously. But the box is big enough to hold a ball gown. I lift off the lid, pull the pretty tissue paper aside and nearly fall over backwards in shock.

I look at Amon, my mouth open.

He chuckles. "Take it out! Look at it! I wanna see it!"

"No, Amon. You don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"This"—I point to the dress in the box—"this is not just any dress. This is the wedding dress."

" The wedding dress?"

" The wedding dress. I'm getting married today!" I lift the dress out of the box and jump to my feet. Then I hold the dress up against my body. I look down at it, taking in all the details.

Every single bride in the Revival wears this dress. It's a long full skirt made of several layers of hand-beaded tulle and the bodice has a plunge neckline.

But every time we have a wedding in the show, MaisieLee adds a custom detail and the bodice has been completely covered in beads in a geometric chevron pattern.

I look over at Amon, my expression all serious. "Now, listen. If you're not the groom, I'm not playing. So open those boxes and let's make sure because you know how much Jim Bob likes to stir the pot."

Amon kinda scoffs. "Oh, I would kill that fucker if he pulled that on me." But we both know Jim Bob likes the drama and if this murder scene happened inside Revival grounds, he'd die happy. So Amon grabs his biggest box and pulls on his satin ribbon. We both lean in, holding our breath as he takes the lid off and pulls the tissue paper aside.

"A suit." And he says these two words with relief.

"A very nice suit," I add. Made out of very fine cream-colored linen.

Amon takes out all three pieces. Trousers, a vest, and a coat.

But there are a ton of boxes to open and we set about doing this like we are kids on Christmas morning, tearing them open and throwing the packages aside.

By the time we're done he's got a shirt, a tie, cufflinks, a hat, shoes, socks, and braces.

And I've got a bouquet, a Juliet cap wedding veil, several strings of pearls in varying lengths, fancy new lingerie, and shoes.

The dress might be the same, but the accessories are all new. If you're a bride in the Revival, you get to keep the accessories. And mine are lovely. The bouquet isn't real flowers, but silk ones. They are tiny pink and cream rosebuds set in a mound and surrounded by beads. The center of each flower has a delicate pearl and there are strands of silver, white, and gold pearls hanging from it.

I hold the bouquet to my chest, knowing I can keep it forever. Amon is smiling at me when I look over at him. "It's stupid, right? To be this excited about a fake wedding?"

He comes over to me, placing his hands on my hips, looking down at me like I might really be his bride. "It's not stupid, Rosie. And it's only as fake as we let it be. I mean, Simon is a real preacher. If we say the vows and mean them, then is it fake?"

I was holding my breath for that and now it comes out in a rush. "I don't know."

He leans down and kisses me. "Come on, let's get ready. I've never been so excited to get to a Revival in all my life."

"Wait! What about Cross? Oh, my God, we have to go get him or he'll miss it!"

"Nah. You're crazy. Collin's bringing him. Lowyn's coming too."

"You knew this was a wedding?"

"I didn't. But I got a text from Collin this morning before we left the Dixie Yonder and he said he and Lowyn would be there and bring Cross."

I relax and my whole body gets warm. It's not real. Amon never asked me to marry him and anyway, it's just a show. But I agree, it's as real as we make it. And maybe we won't be signing no marriage license when we're done, but I'm sold on this man. I'm in.

Amon and I are barely dressed and ready when the call to Revival sounds. And then, a moment later, he's got my hand and he's leading me out the door. As soon as we get outside a horn honks and I about lose my mind when I see Collin and Lowyn sitting in Old Man Hunt's 1933 Rolls Royce Phantom II.

Again, this is the car we always use for special scenes like this so it shouldn't feel special. But it does. Because all of this fuss is being made over Amon and me. And I have never ridden in the Phantom as the star, only as a friend of the star.

Amon laughs. "Well, this looks familiar."

Collin winks at him. "Doesn't it though?"

Amon looks around. "Where's Ryan and Nash? They didn't wanna come?"

"I told them about the little problem with the mine," Collin says. "And Ryan's eager to tear that thing apart. So he's on that today and Nash is helping."

"Perfect." Then Amon opens the back door of the car and beckons me to get in with a flourish of his hand. "Your chariot, my bride."

"Oh, Rosie!" Lowyn exclaims. "You look amazing in the dress. A Revival wedding. We haven't had one of these in years!" She winks at me. "I'm jealous."

I get in the car and scoot over to make room for Amon, but I wink at Lowyn. "Now you know how I felt when you had your big day."

Lowyn lets out one of those blissful sighs, like she's picturing her big day right now. "What a lovely time we had. Didn't we, Collin?"

I catch a side view of Collin smirking as he looks back at Amon. "I hope you've got your dancin' shoes on."

Amon just puts his arm around me and tugs me a little closer to him, whisperin' in my ear, "This is gonna be a great day."

"Oh! Where's Cross?"

"I dropped him off earlier," Collin says. "He needed a costume. But don't worry, he'll be there, Rosie. He wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I hope he hasn't been giving you any trouble out at the compound," I say.

Lowyn turns in her seat to look at me. "Oh, he's such a nice boy. And he's been outside the whole time, doing things with the men and the dogs. I think he really likes it out there, Rosie."

I let out a sigh of relief. "I imagine he does."

The next thing I know we're pulling into the special parking space outside of the security tent and everything starts happening at once.

All my girls are waiting for me, and they rush the car. April, Taylor—who is probably extra relieved that she is not the bride today—MaisieLee, MacyLynn, Bryn, and all of Amon's sisters, Eden, Angel, Vangie, and Halo.

On the men's side it's Grimm—also probably relieved that he is not the groom—Ethan Sardis, Jacob Wonder, Cross, and all my brothers, Pate, Rush, Ash, and Lecter.

Amon grabs hold of my hand just as the girls open my door and start tugging on me and his men open his door and start tugging on him. But Amon and I lock eyes and hold tight to each other for as long as we can.

Then we break apart, laughing. And we are ushered into our respective spaces for some pre-wedding antics.

Revival weddings are a big deal and if you're lucky enough to be a guest at one, then you get all the bells and whistles that come with it. This includes the reception, of course, but also the bride and groom parties. Which is just a little celebration before the main event so all the ladies can see my dress up close and all the men can toast Amon while gently chiding him on the new ball and chain.

The bride's tent is nearly overflowing with people—mostly out-of-town guests. But I don't mind. I've never been the center of attention at any Revival show for more than a few seconds. I do typically get cast as a scene starter, so I do have my moments, but that's just it. They are literally moments. Just enough time to say something like, "There he is! That's Collin Creed, the murderer!"

So I've made people gasp probably hundreds of times at this point. But these gasps were not about me. The focus was on the other person.

But right now, everyone in this tent is looking at me with sparkling eyes and shining smiles. Me. This whole day is about me.

And Amon Parrish made it happen.

"Look!" April is shoving the Revival News in my face. "You guys are on the front page!"

My eyes are dartin' all over that page for a few seconds, trying to take it all in. The Harlow Parrish Wedding , the headline says. And it's got pictures of us—both of which were taken during Collin and Lowyn's big Revival party so we look extra special cute. There's a whole fake story to go with it that I don't have time to read, but I will be framing this page and puttin' it up on a wall somewhere so I can look at it daily. My mouth drops open and I just shake my head as I look at April. "Who? How? Jim Bob was pissed about yesterday!"

"Apparently not, because this is quite special. You're gonna have to frame it," Lowyn says. Like she's reading my mind. "Put it up on the wall and save it forever. Because this is your day, Rosie. It's not fake." She presses her lips together and shakes her head. "No, ma'am. This is real."

She hands me the paper and then I am pushed toward a chair and told to sit while they fuss over me, touching up my make-up and tucking stray bits of hair into my Juliet cap.

This is when the dream catches up to me. Not in the bad way, like you're delusional and you suddenly wake up, but in the good way when you realize there's more to this world and to this life than you thought. Because when I look at this fake article on the front page of this fake newspaper, I see so clearly how I ended up with a fake life filled with costumes and acting parts.

It's in my blood.

I'm just… a performer.

And the fact that there is a word for me—‘performer'—it matters. It makes a difference. It means I'm not weird. It means I'm… artistic. Or something. I'm creative.

Lowyn purses her lips and says, "Pucker up, Rosie. Let me see if you're glossy enough."

To which I say, "Do you think I could write things like this?" while holding up the paper.

"What?" Lowyn looks a little startled. "What do you mean? Like articles?"

"No." I get frustrated for a moment because I'm still trying to sort out what I mean. "Like… stories."

Lowyn's eyebrows go up. "Fiction?"

I snap my fingers and point at her. "Yes. That. Do you think I could write fiction?"

She makes a look of confusion. "Well… don't you? I mean, isn't that what the Busybody is?"

I lean back in my chair. "Yes. It is. But I mean… like books ." My voice goes low for that last word. Almost a whisper. Like I'm embarrassed to say it or maybe ashamed to think that maybe I could do something as big as writing a book.

"Books?" Lowyn looks a little taken aback.

Which doesn't bode well. So I brace for it. I mean, I am a high school dropout, even if I did get that GED. I put up a hand. "Never mind. It's a dumb idea. Single-mother high-school dropouts don't become authors. That's stupid."

"Now hold on here." Lowyn stands up and puts her hands on her hips. "You can do anything you put your mind to, Rosie Harlow. I mean, look at you. You run a printing press, you raised a very nice boy, you manage a semi-famous vintage store, and you still find time to help Bryn out during the lunch rush at the inn two days a week. If you think you can write a book, well, that book is as good as written." Then she nods her head and smiles at me, like the whole matter is settled. "Now let's get you fake-married so we can move on to the fake party. I've got my dancing shoes on and I might even have a drink to celebrate your fake happily ever after."

Which makes me, and all the girls around me, laugh.

But as I get up and let them hustle and bustle me out of the bride's tent and over towards the Revival tent, I have to wonder just how fake this is.

Not just the marriage, either. But all of it. The tents, the show, the characters. And the funny thing is, we don't ever use fake names when we play out these fake stories. We always use our own names.

Maybe that's why I'm having a clash of realities right now?

Maybe this is just… who we are?

"I think we're circus people." I say this right out loud and April and Bryn are the closest to me.

Both of them laugh. "Oh, for sure," April says. "We might not be taming lions or flyin' on a trapeze, but we nailed it with the big tent."

All the girls start laughing. And then someone is talking about the last wedding we had for the Revival, which starred Lettie Gainer and Tommy Masters, the tractor mechanic down on Fourth and Rowan. There were bloodhounds involved in that and no one can quite remember why, so the conversation shifts as they try to recall details.

But I'm too stuck on my present to worry about anybody else's past.

As we approach the tent my father steps out. He's wearing a suit in the style of the Revival, a light brown instead of cream like Amon's. And he's smiling at me.

All my girls part and go their separate ways so when I stop it's just me and him. "Hi, Daddy."

He doesn't say anything at first. Just stands there, grinning. Then he takes both my hands, leans in, and kisses me on the cheek.

Which makes me blush and kinda giggle. "Thank you, Daddy. That was nice."

"My girl. I just can't get over it." He shakes his head. "You look just like your mother on the day I stood inside this same tent, in front of these same people, and said the same vows you're about to say with Amon. It's just… slipped by me, I think."

I huff a little. "Daddy. It's a show. Amon and I aren't getting real-married. It's just a date he set up with Jim Bob as part of our courtin'."

But my daddy is shaking his head no all the while I'm saying that. "That might be the official reason for this wedding, but it's not fake, is it? It's real."

I chuckle. "Well, maybe."

"No maybe. He's your one, isn't he, Rosie?"

I sigh, then look past his shoulder where I can see Amon standing on the stage in front of Pastor Simon. He's watching me and my daddy, squinting his eyes a little like he's not sure what we're gettin' up to.

I look at my daddy again and nod. "I think he is. Yes. But we've only been at this a couple of weeks now, so this isn't the real wedding no matter how real it looks. I won't accept it."

Which makes my daddy laugh right out loud. "As you shouldn't, Rosie. As you shouldn't. Because your mother will never forgive me if I don't spring for the biggest private Revival wedding this town has ever seen. That woman gave birth to five children and only one of them came out a girl. You're gonna give her every one of her mother-daughter milestones, even if they happen out of order. Now." He looks me up and down and I can just tell that he's proud as punch of me. "Let's get you fake-married."

Then he offers me his arm, and I hook mine in his, and the music starts. My daddy starts forward but I can't seem to move. Everything catches up to me in this one moment and I'm suddenly confused. All my surety leaves me and even though I've been to dozens of Revival weddings and I've played my part for each and every one knowing it's just a show, I can't quite come to terms with what is happening.

We're a little behind the music now, but still my feet won't move and people are starting to whisper. Then a head pops out to the side of the aisle from the front row and I hear that voice. The one I know better than my own, the one I love the most, and the hardest, and the deepest. My son says, loud enough for everyone to hear, "You got this, Mom!"

There's a smattering of applause and a couple of encouraging whistles. So I take a deep breath. And he's right, I do have this. And the moment my daddy and I take that first step and start our walk up the sawdust aisle, everything about Revival stops being fake.

Maybe it's a dream. Maybe it's a lie. Maybe it's just a fuckin' circus.

But no one can deny that this really and truly is happening.

I'm watching Amon's face the whole time and he's wearing a look that I don't quite have the right word for. Happy doesn't even come close.

He looks like a man in love.

And the moment I realize this, I blush. Hard and hot.

Amon sees it, because he chuckles and his smile gets bigger.

The next thing I know, the walk is over, and my daddy is kissing my cheek and then Amon offers me his hand.

I take it and we face each other. This is when I glance over to the bride's section and see my mama and she's crying her eyes out. My brother, Ash, has his arm around her shoulder and he's hugging her, but still looking at me, and suddenly I realize… not one damn thing about this wedding is fake. Hell, not one damn thing about this town is fake, either.

Disciple might not be your average town in Appalachia, but it's still very much real.

By the time I look back at Amon, Simon is already talking. And the next thing I know, Amon is staring at me with those blue eyes of his and his mouth is moving and the loveliest words are spillin' out. These words being in the Revival wedding vow, of course.

"When the trying times come," Amon Parrish tells me, "we will hold hands. And when the heavy times come, we will walk them together. And when the depressing times come, and you feel the burden of life to be so vast and wide that you feel forsaken, I will be there to carry you. No matter how long it takes or how far we must travel, no matter how many miles it be, I will carry you, Rosie Harlow. I will carry you."

To which I reply, "I know you will, Amon Parrish. I know you will."

And that's all there is to a wedding vow here in Disciple. He promises to carry me and I promise to trust him to do that.

"Amon," Pastor Simon says, "you may kiss your bride."