“Thank you kindly.” Ivy winked at Hunter. “Hunter has someone very special with him. Seraphina Sinclair. For those of you who don’t know, she’s a famous writer. Of novels, not songs. And Hunter’s got a question for her. But first I’m going to sing her favorite song.”
The spotlight found us. My heart stopped, but I managed a wave.
The opening notes of “Already Gone” filled the room. Ivy’s voice wrapped around the notes and lyrics in a way that gave me goosebumps, even though I’d listened to it a thousand times. Hearing it live was like nothing else. When the song ended, everyone applauded.
Hunter’s got a question for her.
Was this happening? Right now? Here?
Hunter stood, reaching into his pocket. He dropped to one knee.
The room gasped.
“Tyler gave me his permission to ask you this simple question. Seraphina Sinclair, will you marry me and give me my happily-ever-after?”
I was crying by then, and all I could do was nod yes.
The room exploded with cheers and whistling. Hunter slid a diamond solitaire onto my finger and stood, pulling me into his arms, kissing me while ninety strangers celebrated around us.
“I had no idea,” I said. “I’m in shock.”
“Ivy and Loretta helped me arrange it. This place has been part of almost every important thing that’s ever happened to me. It had to be here.”
All I could do was nod as I pressed my cheek against his warm chest. Ivy started playing something slow while Loretta refilled glasses and wiped her eyes with a bar towel.
I thought about my father. All the records he’d shared with me, as if they were as sacred as the good book. To us, they’d been markers of milestones and the sweetest of memories. No matter what happened outside of our home, we found comfort in the music and each other. We’d bonded with every strum, every note, every story that came out of his prized speakers. Even though he was gone, the music was still here, which meant I never had to fully let him go.
He would have loved Hunter. He would have loved this place. And this night. I could almost feel him sitting next to us, grinning, delighted by the sparkle in my eyes. But instead, he was in heaven with my mom, and they were smiling down on me.
Then I thought about Hunter’s father. All those years, Ray Sloan had been in our house via the music. I’d had no idea that someday his son would change my whole world.
“I think our dads sent you to me,” I said when Ivy took a break to sign autographs and answer questions.
He looked at me, his eyes the color of an amber stone. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
I could still feel the beginning of a story, just behind my eyelids and in the tips of my fingers. It had something to do with this place and my dad and even Ray. Although I didn’t know quite what it was yet, I knew it was there, waiting for me.
All those years ago, when we were children, fate had already been decided. Our souls were meant to find each other. It took too long, but we couldn’t think about it that way. No more lamenting the past. We could only look forward to a future. One filled with friends and family and my sweet boy.
“We didn’t teach each other to stay,” I said. “We taught each other how to open our hearts so we knew what we were staying for.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?” Hunter asked.
Yeah, I thought.My dad.He’d always believed in me. Now, I had Hunter and Tyler as advocates and protectors and my reason for everything. And my village, who would be there for milestones and memories. There could not be a better ending to this story. Or a better beginning.
Writers love the words The End. They also love that first empty page that begins with Once upon a time …
EPILOGUE
Hunter
We married in July but put our honeymoon off until the fall so that Ivy, Wes and I could finish our album. Seraphina and I had decided to marry at the courthouse but have a party when things settled down. We’d had the album to finish and Seraphina had spent most of June and July tucked away in her office writing the new book. She’d turned it in two weeks before but had yet to hear from Sylvia. I could see that it bothered my wife to be in limbo, but Tyler and I did what we could to distract her.
We’d also put the official adoption in motion. Soon, I would be Tyler’s legal father. I couldn’t wait.
On an afternoon in late August, I sat in Wes’s studio and listened to history being made. Jack Wilder had been thrilled by our song, “Finally Home.” Now he and Ivy stood in front of microphones, separated by maybe three feet and a decade of parallel roads that had somehow led to this room. Jack held a vintage Martin, with Ivy across from him with her own guitar. We’d decided early in the session that they'd both play rhythm tocreate a fuller sound. I stood off to their left with Georgia, ready to lay the lead underneath them.
Wes sat at the vintage SSL 9000 console, his weathered hands moving across the faders with the ease of forty years’ experience. Margaret had brought down sandwiches an hour ago and stayed to watch. Tyler and Seraphina sat on the leather couch against the wall, taking everything in with wide eyes.
