Epilogue #1
Hollis
The swing goes back and forth. It’s a lazy movement, completely inconsiderate of time.
Larissa lies longways with her head on my lap. I brush her hair out of her face as I keep us swaying in the breeze.
The lasagna Siggy ordered for an early dinner was amazing, and I ate more than any guy should ever eat in front of a girl’s family. It was nice to have my appetite back.
I look down at my girl. Her eyes are closed. She looks content, and I want to keep it that way.
No matter what.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask.
“Mm-hmm.”
“How did you know I was there? And how did you get everyone to go with you?”
She grins. “Well, Boone and Bellamy and I were going to go anyway. Or we were before you decided to be a jerk.”
“Fair enough.”
She opens her eyes. They’re sparkling. “I had kind of called it off because I didn’t think you wanted us there. That and I was really mad. And hurt.”
I wince.
“But Judy called Lincoln and told him she wanted to go and that he needed to get ahold of me.”
“She did?”
Larissa nods.
“Huh.”
I gaze across the lawn behind Siggy’s house at the trees dotting the landscape—giant southern oaks covered in Spanish moss that dusts the ground at some points. There are bushes with deep purple flowers along both sides of a path that leads from the porch steps and over a hill.
Judy’s actions on my behalf surprise me. I don’t know why. She’s a meddling and territorial lady, and I shouldn’t be shocked to find out she exerted her will over anything, let alone my problems.
How did I get so lucky to stumble into her little shop that day?
I look down to see Larissa watching me.
How did I get so lucky to find her?
She climbs off my lap and moseys down the steps. She shoves her hands in the pockets of her wine-colored dress and gazes down the pathway.
I get off the porch and go to her.
“Can I ask you something else?” I say.
She laughs. “Look at who’s the one full of questions now.”
“It’s paybacks.” I stand behind her and wrap my arms around her front, locking my hands at her belly button. She holds on to my hands, her succulent bracelet tickling my skin. “Why did you come today? Why did you still show up after I pushed you away?”
She stills in my arms. “Because I love you, and you needed me.”
My throat tightens as I hold this woman.
She came because I needed her. Even though I never told her.
I don’t know what to say to that.
“I’ll always be here for you. So will my family.” She lifts her chin and looks up at me. “You have so many people who love you. If you will just let us.”
Something happens inside me, a shift that I didn’t think would ever happen. It’s like a number of puzzle pieces click together. I can hear the snap as they form one picture.
“I love you,” I tell her. “I don’t know what that means. I’m not promising you I’m not going to make mistakes because, well, I’m Hollis Hudson, and I’m kind of known for that.”
She laughs.
“But I’ll love you with everything I have,” I tell her. “And I’ll never leave you alone to try to figure things out by yourself. You have me.”
“And you have me. And if you decide you don’t want me, I’ll come and show you that I’m not going anywhere. I choose you, baby.”
I grin. “I choose you, too. Every time, beautiful girl. Every time. No matter what.”
She spins around in my arms and faces me. “What do we do about you going back to school?”
I groan, wondering why the world has to constantly throw speed bumps in my way.
“I have an idea,” she says.
“Shoot, Shooter.”
“I have a semester left too. And Braxton is not that far from here. What? Three hours?”
“Yeah. About that.”
She plays with the buttons on my shirt. “So we both finish our degrees because that’s important. And we make a deal that we see each other at least every two weeks. Whoever can travel the easiest, that’s the person who goes. But it’s non-negotiable.”
“Can I come every weekend if I can? I don’t think I have classes on Monday or Friday. I could probably swing a lot of long weekends either way.”
Her face brightens. “Perfect.”
A grin toys against my lips. “Let’s see how this goes. Let’s be open to change. But whatever happens, we stick together. We’re teammates.”
“How about family? Teammates make me think of sweaty socks and stinky shoes.”
I laugh, pressing my lips against her forehead.
We’ll be family someday. For real. I promise you.
“Now,” she says, looking up at me warily, “I have something to tell you, and you can’t get mad.”
“What? What did you do?”
My brows pull together as I wonder what in the world she could’ve done in twenty-four hours to make me that mad.
She bites her lip. “Promise you won’t be mad first.”
“Do you want me to lie to you? Because if you say the name Sebastian or some dumb shit like that, I promise nothing.”
She giggles. “It’s nothing like that. I promise.”
I consider this. “I promise, but I include an addendum that if I do get mad that it will be in response to whatever you’ve done. Same scale.”
“I accept.”
“Now, what is it?”
She makes a face. “I found a poem you wrote the night you stayed and then left before I woke up. It might be a poem or lyrics or just thoughts that seem to kind of flow …”
I remember writing that. It was about watching her sleep and how it felt like the purest, sweetest moment I’d ever felt. It was just a bunch of thoughts that kind of rambled and I couldn’t sleep.
I just forgot to take it.
“It was under my chair,” she says. “And I gave it to Coy. Well, I didn’t give it to him. I took a screenshot and sent it to him.”
She bites her teeth together and waits for my reaction.
I feel a bit violated that my thoughts were shared outside of me, but I’m the one who forgot to take it with me. And I know, without a doubt, that she meant well.
“Okay,” I say. “I’m not mad. I’m not thrilled, but I’m not mad.”
She squeals. “Good, because Coy wants you to call him. He wants to buy it from you, but there are contracts and stuff that you’ll have to sign because he wants to record it—”
“What?”
My eyes about fall out of my head.
“I know, right?” She beams. “You are so talented. Coy thinks so too. He will be home in a few days again—something happened, I don’t know—and he wants to sit down with you and talk to you about maybe actually writing some stuff for him.”
I don’t know what to say. I just stand there like an idiot and wonder if it’s a dream. Because it feels like it.
“See what happens when you don’t block your blessings?” she asks. “Good things happen.”
I pull her to me and kiss her again.
Good things happen, indeed.