Epilogue
Lennon
One Year Later
“This is so exciting,” Devin whispers as we shuffle into our seats at the Valley Community Theater. “I’ve never seen Mom perform.”
“Me either,” Lark’s friend Hannah says over my lap as we sit down. She flew out for the show the night before. She winks at me. “I heard the costumes are particularly sexy.”
I don’t tell her about the more indecent fantasies we’ve played out with Lark wearing a similar black leotard, tights, and heels. That would be inappropriate, and I’m nothing if not a gentleman.
I did, however, thank Hannah profusely for that bombshell swimsuit she bought Lark a year ago when she first came out to LA.
When Lark came back with me, I made sure she had occasions to wear it.
And then I asked Hannah where she got it and promptly ordered three more in different colors.
It’s Los Angeles. My Songbird needed more swimsuits. See? I’m a gentleman.
Noah, Jessica, and Silas all scurry down the aisle and slide into their seats in front of us just as the lights flicker to warn everyone that the show will be starting soon.
“Thank god we made it,” Jessica pants. “I thought we were going to be late.”
“That wouldn’t be because a certain someone had to change three times before we left, would it?” Silas asks drily.
She tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. “You never know when you might meet the love of your life!” she singsongs. Noah shakes his head incredulously.
“Holy shit,” Hannah breathes next to me. She leans closer to whisper, “Is that Silas Matthews?”
I nod and flash her a mischievous grin as I tap him on the shoulder. “Hey, Si,” I say. “This is Hannah. She’s your biggest fan.”
“Ohmygod.” Hannah squeals it all as one word. “Hi.”
He shakes her hand. “A pleasure.”
Devin giggles, and Jessica bounces her eyebrows suggestively at him.
I’m surprised Hannah doesn’t fall out of her chair right then and there.
There isn’t time for that, though, as the house lights dim and a spotlight illuminates a man in a pageboy hat and suspenders at stage right.
He says a few lines, the joke lands, and the pit starts up their jazzy overture.
Dancers come and go on the stage, hitting a few moves in time with the music as they pass in and out of sight.
Devin moves back and forth in her seat to the beat.
I can see Jessica’s wide eyes from here. Hannah watches, scrutinizing.
As the overture leads into the first song, everyone in our group is hooked. It doesn’t take long for the magic of theater to cast its spell over everyone in the crowd. But when the music moves into a more somber tone, that’s when I lean forward in my seat.
Lark enters and hits her mark. Most people won’t notice her in the frenzy of the other dancers still onstage, but I do. I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
I’ve been in the audience each night for this show’s six-night run, and she does it flawlessly every time.
The other actors disperse, and she’s left standing there, still as a statue, her hip cocked and her head down, holding onto a black bowler hat with a gloved thumb and forefinger.
I watch, mesmerized, as she practically vibrates with energy.
Devin is holding her breath. Hannah is sitting straighter in her seat.
Silas is smiling and tapping his fingers against the armrest. Jessica twirls her hair in anticipation.
Even Noah’s eyes widen from where I can see his profile.
Two bars. That’s all it takes for her to hold every single audience member in the palm of her hand. Two bars, and then her head pops up, she flashes a brilliant smile, and her blue eyes find me.
Her smile widens just a fraction, and then she’s off, singing and dancing like she was made to do this. She’s at home on the stage.
And later that night, after our friends have gone home and Hannah and Devin are settled in the guest rooms of the house we bought together, she’s home with me, too. She hums quietly as she rests her head on my chest, and I stroke her hair, just listening.
She laughs quietly at herself. “I’m really happy,” she says into the night, the notes of her voice lifting into the air. “I love you, Lennon.”
My heart is a light, bubbly thing. It could float away on those words alone. I don’t even have to think as I kiss her forehead and breathe her in, all citrus and sunshine.
“I love you, too, Songbird,” I say into her hair. “And you’re my favorite person in the world.”