Sing For Me by Rachel Schurig
Epilogue
Will
Seven Months Later
It’s beena full hour since our set ended, and I’m still buzzing with adrenaline. I’m clearly not the only one—Eva can barely sit still next to me in the truck. Of course, my adrenaline rush has more to do with what’s going to happen next than the show itself, but Eva doesn’t know that yet.
“You remind me of an excited puppy right now,” I tell her, placing a hand on her knee to try to keep it from bouncing.
“I don’t understand how you aren’t freaking out!” she exclaims. “That set was amazing!”
I grin. “It was, wasn’t it?”
“I knew you were having fun! Does that mean you might be willing to do it again sometime?”
“We’ll see,” I say, but I think we both know I have every intention of performing with her again. Rather than making me feel sick, the thought of being on stage with her has me feeling happier than I ever thought possible.
How times have changed.
The last few months have been both difficult and amazing at the same time. As promised, my family made a ton of phone calls on Eva’s behalf, until we found a new manager that she really clicked with. Because Reese Hall came so highly recommended from so many of the people my family trusted, I felt reasonably sure that she’d have my girl’s best interest at heart.
What really sealed the deal for me was when she accompanied us to one of Eva’s doctor appointments, wanting to get an overview of her injury and treatment plan. As soon as we left the office, she immediately pulled out Eva’s calendar and started to look for the best time to schedule the surgery. There was no trying to talk Eva out of it, no attempts to have her put it off until she could get into the recording studio again.
“I work for you, Eva,” Reese had told her. “And that means my first job is to help you get healthy.”
I wanted to high five her right there in the parking lot. Talk about a one-eighty from Dennis.
The surgery was tough on both of us. Eva hated being in the hospital, hated the pain that came with her recovery. I just hated to see her hurting. I went to every single physical therapy session with her, trying to motivate her with kisses and promises of special massages when she finished her exercises.
I made sure to have the time to be there with her. I’d finally hired an office manager. And another tattoo artist. I worked out a new agreement with my Uncle Lennon, giving me longer to pay off the loan so I was no longer killing myself trying to clear it out early. I was done living most of my life in that shop, done trying to prove myself to my uncles.
Dealing with Eva’s label was the next big hurdle. Our family’s lawyers agreed with hers that her contract was full of unusual clauses and she might just be able to get out of it. But that would mean months—maybe even years—of legal battles. Levi hadn’t been kidding when he said it was notoriously difficult to break a recording contract.
There was a part of me, a pretty big part, that wanted her to try anyhow. If Eva was free from her label, that meant she’d be free to sign with another one. She’d be free to sign with us.
We discussed it. Me and my uncles. Me and Eva. They all assured us they’d be thrilled to have her. But they were leaving it up to us.
The thought of her signing with Six Man Band both comforted and terrified me. I liked the idea of her working with the family, of us being tied in that way. Plus, there was no one in the world I trusted more to guide her career than Levi, my dad, and my uncles. I knew they’d give her the freedom to stretch and grow as an artist and put her best interests first.
On the other hand, it was impossible not to think about everything that happened the last time my girlfriend signed with our label.
In the end, Eva made the decision on her own. She felt like it would put too much pressure on me too soon. She wanted to table the decision for a few years, and see how we felt then. If she stuck with her current label, she was under contract for two more albums. We could revisit the idea down the road. I was just really happy that she was talking about us in terms of years.
Eva’s new manager used the threat of a legal fight to make some changes. For the first time in my girl’s career, she was going to have some actual say in the type of music she made. She got to choose the producers she worked with and the songwriters they brought on board.
Which is why I just spent the evening on stage with her. It was a low-key show, just some friends and family, label execs, and a smattering of industry people. A chance for Eva to show off some of what she’d been working on during her recovery from surgery, get some feedback on her new sound.
A sound that included me.
She hadn’t asked me to help her write some of the new songs—it just happened. We’d been sitting out on her deck one night, our guitars in hand. I’d been playing a lot more since we got back together, the instrument no longer filling me with dread every time I touched it. That night we weren’t playing anything specific, just messing around. Then Eva started to strum a melody I had never heard. I picked up the thread pretty quickly, adding my direction. Pretty soon, we had something. It didn’t have words yet, didn’t even have the full structure of a song, but it was something. Something we could build on.
I felt that way about a lot of things lately.
I ended up helping her write three more songs. She plans for her new album to be quite a bit different from her last two, more stripped down, the instruments a back drop for her voice to soar. No more choreographed dancing or synthesized sound. No blonde hair. Just Eva on stage with a few musicians backing her up.
Tonight, I was one of those musicians, playing guitar on every song. I had the best seat in the house—right behind my girl, a witness to her amazing talent.
I’m definitely not ready to be a full-time musician. My tattoo shop might have started as a back-up plan, but it has come to mean a lot to me over the years, and I have no plans to leave it. Not yet, anyhow.
But I did like writing that music with Eva. Liked how we felt connected on a completely different level when we wrote together. And I liked playing with her tonight. Liked it way more than I had ever imagined I would.
So we’ll see. I’m trying to keep an open mind.
“I thought we were going home?” Eva asks when I pull up in front of the shop.
I chuckle. “You must be really in your head tonight. How did you not notice we were driving in the opposite direction from Malibu?”
She gives me a sheepish smile. “I think I was re-living the show. I forgot how much I love it, you know? Performing. It just does something to me.”
I lean across the seat to kiss her. “You do something to me,” I murmur, and she laughs, pushing at my chest.
“Did you forget something at the shop?”
A flood of nerves suddenly crash my system, way stronger than anything I felt going up on stage. “Yeah,” I manage to grit out, hoping Eva is still too moony about the show to notice how weird I’m being. I’m pretty sure all the blood has rushed straight out of my face. “Come in with me?”
“Sure,” she says, clearly not picking up on my sudden stress. I glance up at the shop as I walk around to open her door. The dark window shades are down, preventing me from seeing inside. I cross my fingers that my employees carried out my instructions.
“Are you cold?” Eva asks when I help her down from the truck. “Your hands are like ice.”
That makes sense, since I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out. I give her a tight smile and pull her towards my shop. Then I drop the keys three times before I manage to open the front door. So far, this plan is going great.
But when I finally swing the door open, everything clicks into place. Lulu and whoever she’d forced into helping her had done exactly what I asked—more, maybe. The overhead lights are off, every surface of the shop covered in lit candles. Eva takes a step inside before she seems to realize that something is different.
“Will?” she whispers, staring around. “What…”
I swallow the huge lump in my throat and lean over to kiss the top of her head. “Just wanted to do something special,” I explain, voice husky. “To celebrate tonight.”
She looks up at me with wide eyes, the flickering candle light shining off her red hair. “This is so beautiful.”
I want to tell her that she’s way more beautiful than any scene I could ever create. But I’m staring down at her, standing in the exact spot where I’d first laid eyes on her, the knowledge of what’s about to happen heavy on my mind, and I can’t force a single word from my lips. Instead I kiss her softly, then take her hand again, leading her back to my station.
“This is where we met,” she says happily. I still can’t manage words, so I grab her by the hips and lift her up to sit on my table. “I was sitting right here, thinking how hot this grumpy, bearded tattoo guy looked.” She grins. “Happy memories.”
I sink onto my stool in front of her. I slip a hand into my pocket, feeling the comforting weight of the small box. Breathe, I tell myself.
“Will?” Eva’s looking at me with curious, happy eyes. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?”
I nod. Swallow. Nod again.
Somehow, she still isn’t picking up on the magnitude of the moment. “Ooh, are you going to feed me? Do you have Ollie’s onion rings stashed in here somewhere?”
I choke out a laugh. I will be feeding her Ollie’s. But not yet.
“Oh, I know,” she says, smirking down at me. “You’ve been dying to put more of your ink on me, haven’t you?” I have, actually. I can’t begin to explain how much I love that my art is on her body, permanently. I’d love to put more of it there.
“Is that what this is about? Dazzle me with pretty candles and romance so I agree.” Her voice is disapproving, but her eyes are sparkling with amusement. “Will. Is this all a ploy to get me to agree to another tattoo?”
I finally find my voice, staring straight into her eyes. “Nah. It’s a ploy to get you to agree to marry me.”
She stills, the teasing amusement frozen on her face. “Will?” she whispers.
I take her hand in mine, the nerves dissipating as I look up at her. This is way too right to feel nervous about. “I knew you were dangerous the second I saw you standing in that lobby,” I tell her. “I knew you had the power to shake up my entire world.” I grin. “And that’s exactly what you did. You changed my world, Evangeline Lidell, in all the best ways.”
“Will,” she whispers again, tears gathering in her eyes.
“You returned so many things to me, things I didn’t even realize I was missing.” I think about how much has changed since she walked into my shop. “I was so unhappy before you, Eva. So fucking lonely. But then I saw you smile out in my lobby and everything changed.” I swallow, hard. “You brought laughter back into my life. Hope. Love.” My voice catches. “You gave me music again. You gave me my family back.”
“Will—”
I hold up a hand to stop her argument. “You did. Because you made me want to fix all the broken shit inside me that was keeping me from them.” I think about how much better things are now, with my uncles and my cousins and my siblings. With my dad. “God, Eva. Thank you.”
“You brought all those things back into my life too, Will,” she says, reaching down to wipe a tear from my eyes. I catch her hand against my cheek, holding it there. “You made me want to be brave again. You reminded me that the world is a place I want see and experience, not just hide from.” She swallows, tears welling in her eyes. “You gave me your family. And you gave me your heart—the very best thing I own.”
I kiss her palm. “Own it forever. It’s yours. Be my wife, Eva. Be my family.”
She’s nodding, crying, reaching for me. But I need to hear the word, need to hear her say it. “Please marry me, Eva.”
“Yes,” she finally manages through more tears. “Yes, Will. I’ll marry you.”
* * *
It’s almostan hour before we finally leave the shop. There were a lot of tears behind the walls of my station when I gave her the ring. Even more kisses. Then I mentioned that I’d never had sex on my tattoo table, and Eva insisted that we remedy that immediately. I’ll never be able to look at the damn thing without losing my mind again. I’m going to have to bring it home, enshrine it somewhere safe. There’s no way I’m going to let some tattoo-seeking, hairy-ass biker ever sit on it again.
“I need to call Kat,” Eva says, smiling down at her ring while I lock the front door. “And Marissa and—”
“Hold that thought.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight against me. I swear, I never want a foot of distance between us again. “Remember when we got to the shop, you said something about Ollie’s?”
“Yaaas,” she says, closing her eyes. “I forgot how hungry I am with all the crying and the sex and stuff.” I laugh. God I love her. “Are they still open?”
I grin, pulling her down the sidewalk. “Pretty sure we can work something out.” I think back to our first date, walking along this same street from my shop to Ollie’s. “I know a guy.”
This time, I don’t have to open the door for her to see her surprise. All the lights are on in the restaurant, the crowd of people easily visible through the glass windows.
“Will!” She covers her face.
“Hey, I thought we were done with the crying,” I tell her, pulling at her hands.
“Then stop doing all this sweet crap for me, you jerk!”
I laugh, pulling her through the front door to the collective cheer of all of our friends and family. Most of these people had been at the show earlier, but from the rush of excitement that goes through me you’d have thought I hadn’t seen them in months. Everything just feels different now, the show weeks ago instead of hours. Eva is wearing my ring now. Eva is going to be my wife.
We see Katherine first, Eva’s little sister crashing into both of us. “Congratulations!” she cries, kissing her sister’s cheeks, and then mine, hugging us tightly.
“We need to introduce you to my dad,” I say, trying to pry one of her vice-grip arms from around my neck. “You have a lot in common.”
Then Marissa, Luke, Geoff, and all the rest of Eva’s friends are crowding around, my younger siblings pushing through, some of my cousins squeezing in, too, and for a little while everything is an overwhelming crush of hugs and congratulations. I barely know who I even greet—though my little sister and Silas stand out amongst the well-wishers.
When we finally get a chance to breathe, I look up to see the calmer members of our party waiting to congratulate us. I take Eva’s hand and pull her over to my parents, and I swear I almost start crying all over again when she immediately goes to my mother’s arms. You gave me your family, she had said when I proposed. And that’s just how it will be—my family will be hers, and hers will be mine.
I hug and kiss my mom, who’s crying, then turn to my dad. “Okay, lay it on me,” I say. “Do your worst. This should be like, major Cash Ransome sappiness, right? We’re talking the hug to end all hugs.”
“Such a fucking smart-ass,” he mutters. “Maybe I won’t hug you at all. How would you like that?”
“Oh, hell no,” I say, laughing, and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. Of course he hugs me back—squeezing me so tight it’s hard to breathe. Then I feel more arms around us, hands slapping my back, and I choke out a laugh when I realize all of my uncles have piled on top of us.
“He’s been a wreck, kid,” Reed says, pulling away. “Sniffling like a toddler the whole time we were waiting for you.”
“Major waterworks,” Daltery agrees.
“Pathetic display,” Lennon adds.
Dad glares at his brothers. “My boy was getting engaged!” he argues. “And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who cried when I saw them standing outside.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Reed says.
“You were a blubbery mess, babe!” Aunt Paige calls from somewhere nearby.
“Seriously, kid,” Lennon says, clapping a hand to my shoulder. “We’re all happy for you.”
“And proud of you,” Reed adds. “Incredibly proud.”
There’s so much I want to say to them. So much I could thank them for. But there’s a whole crowd of people we still haven’t seen. My grandparents, my aunts, Uncle Levi, Rose and River, Wyatt. This whole big, amazing, maddening, loving family that they created for us. How can I possibly find the words to thank them for all that?
My dad must sense my struggle, because he nudges my shoulder. “Go on and see everyone. Have fun. Eat food.” He holds my gaze. “We’ll be around.”
And I know they will. They’ve always been around for me, steady and supportive, even when I didn’t want them to be. So I give them a nod, take Eva’s hand, and go to celebrate our engagement with all the people who love us best.
The End
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Wrong For Me, Rose’s story, will be release on October 6, 2020.