Epilogue
ROB
It was Dottie’s idea to celebrate the launch of the NA canned drink line at Buchanan Brewery on what would have been Sophie’s wedding day. I’ve got to hand it to her. For a sweet old lady who likes to see the good in everyone, she’s got a good handle on dramatic timing.
She gave a pretty memorable speech at the start of the launch party, too, saying life doesn’t always work out the way we expect, but it always works out the way it’s supposed to.
I don’t agree with that, but I can’t find much to complain about these days. Work is good. Emil is happy and healthy with Ann’s daughter—and “Grandma Ann,” as she calls herself, gives him scratcher tickets every time they see each other, even though he’s technically not old enough to redeem them. And, most of all, I’ve got Sophie.
I’m in love with her. Deeply, madly in love with her. She’s been the muse for more songs already. The music has been flowing out of me like a river, and even though the songs are more sweet than sad, more protective than angry, the other guys like them.
We’re supposed to play a couple of them tonight at the party, but neither Bixby nor I have heard from Travis all day. We’ve got less than half an hour before we’re supposed to play. I’m in the thick of the party, with Sophie and our other friends, but my gaze keeps straying to the clock as the minutes pass by without any word from him.
This isn’t something I tell people much, but I can be a worrier. When my mom wasn’t doing well, she’d drop off the face of the earth, and that would be the first sign she was drinking again. The worry is worse now because Travis is the sort of guy who always answers his phone, sometimes even when he shouldn’t.
Sophie squeezes my hand, and I lower my gaze to her. She’s wearing a white dress as a final screw you to Jonah, who isn’t here for obvious reasons.
Word travels fast in a small community, and even though Asheville is a hell of a lot bigger than it used to be, parts of it still feel and act small. Everyone in the brewery world knows exactly what Jonah tried to pull, not just by dating four women at the same time, but also by trying to blackmail Sophie and me about her past.
Nora Leigh, GingerBeerBabe, played her role in taking him down, just like Sophie and her friends did. She hasn’t reached out to them, though. It’s obvious she’d like to move past the whole thing.
From what I’ve heard, Jonah’s no longer in the beer distribution game. He’s gone to work for our father, something he’d sworn he would never do.
Doesn’t matter. Sophie and her friends got what they needed: this town knows Jonah for who he is.
My girl frowns at me. “You’re worried. Let’s go check on Travis.”
“I’m not taking you away from this,” I say, waving a hand at the gathering. The place is packed, and ironically enough, given it’s an NA launch, half the people here are tanked.
Hannah, who rolled in half an hour late, is in rare form, her spirits too high, if anything. At least five different people have asked her what’s wrong, but she’s responded to everyone in pretty much the same way: “I’d rather focus on what’s right.”
I can tell Sophie’s not buying it, but she’s still very much a person who lets other people have what they need, especially if she loves them. Which must be why she grabs my hand and starts guiding me toward the exit.
“You going to check on Travis?” Bixby asks from his seat at the bar. No point in setting up when we don’t have one-third of the band with us, let alone a new rhythm guitarist.
“Apparently,” I say as Sophie pauses, her hand still firmly grasping mine. She’s so damn beautiful. Like an avenging angel, as likely to bop you on the head as bless you.
“I’m coming.” Hannah stumbles as she tries to get out of her high-top chair, and Briar has to give her an assist.
“Should I come too?” Briar asks uncertainly. “I told Dottie I’d help pass out samples, but it definitely seems like people have already been drinking something.”
“We’ll be back soon,” Sophie insists, then gives me a pointed look. “ With Travis. ”
“I’ll stay,” says Otis, getting up from his nearby stool so abruptly it nearly turns over. He was mid-conversation with a girl his own age and has clearly left her hanging. “Anything you need, Briar.”
Briar shrugs. “Okay, thanks.”
“I’m still coming,” Hannah says, pushing forward. “I need some fresh air.”
Sophie and I exchange a look, because a party like this—loud and fun and completely unconcerned about noise ordinances—is usually her scene.
“Sure,” I say. “Come with us.”
A few minutes later, we pile into my car. As I prepare to drive, Sophie puts her guitar pick pendant into my hand and urges me to squeeze it. “He’s okay, Rob. I know it.”
Hannah’s poring over her phone and not paying attention, but five minutes into the drive, she says, “So, let’s not make a big deal of this, but I quit my job today.”
Sophie gasps and turns to look at her. “Because of Liam?”
“Forget Liam. This is a good thing. It’s like you said. My brother has to take care of himself, and I have to take care of myself. I’m going to get a dumb, mindless job so I can figure out what I actually want to do with my life.”
“Do you want to work at Buchanan?” Sophie says. “I can definitely get you?—”
“No. Thank you, but no. I think I’m done with the brewery scene for now.”
I pull up to Travis’s house, my heart beating faster when I see his car in the driveway. It seems like good news—he obviously didn’t get into a car accident—but why would he be here but unresponsive?
Sophie squeezes my thigh, which would normally be giving me thoughts, but right now…
“Let’s go,” I say.
I get out of the car, my adrenaline spiking. Sophie falls in next to me as we make our way to the door.
I knock, steeling myself for?—
Christ, I don’t even know.
And then a little dark-haired boy answers the door. He’s six or seven maybe—I honestly don’t know what kids look like at that age, because by the time they reach us they’re preteens. His eyes look too big for his solemn face, and he has a pointed chin and dark, slanted eyebrows that look familiar.
“Who are you?” he asks, as if he belongs here.
“Uh, is Travis home?”
But even as I ask the question, Travis comes around the corner from the kitchen, to the right of the front door. He looks completely miserable, and when he sees me, he swears under his breath.
“I forgot. I totally?—”
Sophie turns and kisses me on the cheek. “Go talk to your friend. Hannah and I will sit with our new friend.”
I hadn’t even realized Hannah had followed us in, but sure enough, she’s next to Sophie, staring at the kid.
“That’s your kid,” Hannah says, looking from the boy to Travis.
“No,” I say, “he doesn’t…”
But I trail off, both because Travis looks even more miserable and because that’s obviously why the kid is familiar to me. He resembles his father.
“This is Ollie,” Travis says thickly. “He’s going to be staying here for a while.”
Sophie gives Hannah a pointed look, then asks the kid, “Will you show us where the fun stuff is?”
The little boy looks as unhappy as Travis. “There isn’t any. My mom just dropped me off an hour and a half ago, and the only thing to do is watch TV.”
“Are you serious, my man?” Hannah says, suddenly more animated. “You’ve got a TV, and you’re saying there’s nothing good to do? Let’s go find some cartoons. Maybe something your mom doesn’t like you watching. We won’t tell.”
He brightens. “Are you going to be my friend?”
“Absolutely,” Hannah says, giving Travis a wink.
Then Sophie squeezes my hand and releases it, and she follows Hannah and Ollie into the living room, to the left of the front foyer.
Travis tilts his head toward the kitchen, and I join him in there. He grips the edge of the kitchen island, leaning on it, his jaw tense.
“This is what that Lilah business was about,” I say, putting the pieces together. “The kid she had…he was yours.”
“I swear to God, I didn’t know,” he tells me. “She just…she fucking left him at my doorstep, Rob. Said it was my turn, as if I’d been avoiding my duty. She’s going to Australia for three months to follow her new boyfriend’s band while they’re on tour. She said it was my fault her marriage failed, so this was the least I could do for her. I don’t know what to do with a kid. I…” He runs his hands through his hair. “We play shows at night. The program is in the afternoon, and he’s too young, and school’s already started for the semester?—”
“You’ll get a nanny,” I say. “You can afford a nanny. You’ll work it out.”
I’m still in shock. The situation also burns a little, to be honest. I was a kid who got left behind, passed from one parent to the other. Used as fuel for arguments. That kid in there has got to feel worse than Travis does. But I know my buddy is nothing if not capable. He’s a stand-up guy who’s saved my life more than once. If he’s really this kid’s father, he’ll be a good one.
I say as much, and Travis clenches the island even harder, his entire body tensing. And then he lets go, relaxing his posture. He turns to me and claps me on the back. “I’m sorry about the show. I know this is a big day for Sophie.”
“It is. Which is why I’ve got to get back there.”
He looks a little panicked but nods. “Yeah, of course.”
“This’ll work itself out,” I promise, trying not to sound shell-shocked. “It’ll be good.”
“I don’t know how to be a father,” he mutters.
“You’ll do fine,” I say, because I want to believe it as much as he needs to. Maybe fatherhood is not the kind of thing anyone knows how to do, until they’re called upon to do it. Even then, some people don’t figure it out. My father was never much of one, and I know Travis’s dad wasn’t either.
“Thank you, brother.”
We walk out to the living room together, but Travis stops me just before we step into view. From our position in the foyer, we can see them, but they can’t see us. Something’s playing on the TV, and Hannah’s talking animatedly to the little boy, who’s grinning, while Sophie smiles at them.
“Holy shit, he’s smiling,” Travis mutters.
“From what Sophie said, Hannah raised her little brother,” I say. “She must be good with kids.”
“You think she’d stick around for an hour or two? Maybe help him get settled in?”
“No harm in asking.”
He does, and Hannah winks conspiratorially at the little boy. “Heck, yeah, I want to watch some toons with Ollie. You got any mac and cheese?”
“No,” Travis says, frowning slightly, possibly overcome by all the things he’s not prepared for.
“Well, they invented Instacart for a reason.”
“We should go,” I say, wrapping an arm around Sophie’s waist. “This is a big day for Sophie.”
“Yes, leave. We’re great here,” Hannah says, shooing us away.
Travis looks concerned that Sophie and I are leaving, but I give him a hug goodbye, pat him on the back, and then we’re on our way. Sophie leans into me, and I hug her tightly as we walk out to the car. Neither of us says anything until we’re inside.
I turn to her. “Ollie’s his kid. He didn’t know about him until a couple of hours ago.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it. You’re an uncle , Rob.”
A smile stretches across my face. “You think?”
“ Yes ,” she says, placing her hand on my thigh. “Travis is more your brother than Jonah ever was. And we’re going to be there for him. For both of them.”
“God, I really fucking love you.” I lean in and kiss her good—hoping the kid isn’t peeking through the curtains at us.
Her lips are soft and inviting, and they already feel like home. She’s exactly the person I want to be with after hearing big news. The safe place I want to go to when I feel weighed down by the heaviness of the world and my own memories.
I pull back to look at her, soaking in the fact that she’s here in my car, and not walking down the aisle toward my brother.
“If everything had gone the way it was supposed to, and you’d married him today,” I say, my voice ragged, because even the thought sets me off, “it would have been the worst day of my life, and I wouldn’t have even known it. That’s really awful to think about. It’s kind of messing with my head, to be honest.”
She smiles at me. “It would definitely have been the worst day of my life. Maybe Dottie had a point, and it all happened exactly the way it was supposed to.”
I run my fingers over her lips and then her jaw. “She usually does.”
I want to ask her to run off with me, to marry me today, the day when she was supposed to marry my brother. But that would be a selfish request. So I ask for less than I want, because I want her to have everything she needs, including the time to process everything that’s happened. “Will you move in with me?”
I know she’ll be worried about Otis being alone. But they’re deep into planning The Crafty Monster now that Sophie has funds from the NA drink line, so they’ll be spending plenty of time together. And while her aunt extended her vacation, she’ll be returning in another couple of weeks.
Sophie’s eyes widen, and for a second I’m terrified she’ll say no and I’ll have fucked up this day for her. But then she leans in and kisses me hard. She pulls back and says, “Yes. Yes. But please tell me we don’t have to go back to the party.”
“You don’t want to go back?” I say, surprised. “I heard there’d be cupcakes and a really kick-ass band with no drums.”
She laughs. “Otis played the drums in marching band.”
“There you go. Perfect.”
“But I’m going to have to beg you to cancel your performance, just this once.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She leans in to kiss me again, her lips soft but insistent. “Because I’m going to need you to take me home, right away.”
“Say that again.” I grin at her. “Possibly three to five more times.”
“Take me home, Rob.”
“Gladly,” I say. “And if the mood strikes, feel free to tell me what you’d like me to do to you when we get there.”
She smiles at me, and God, I’m so happy I can barely understand it—or stand my sappy self.
As I pull away from the curb, I catch a glimpse of Sophie glancing back at Travis’s house. I can practically see what she’s thinking.
“You think Hannah’ll be okay?”
“Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “I think this is good for her.”
“I hope so, because I’m definitely not going back.”
She gives me a wicked grin. Then she puts her hand on my thigh and starts to detail what’s going to happen as soon as we close the apartment door behind us. And if I speed a little?
Well, I’m only human.
You know what? I stole my brother’s girl, and I’m not the least bit sorry about it.
***