Epilogue
DELANEY
Ten Months Later
Work on the orchard began as soon as Mr. Majors signed the papers to give us full ownership of the land, and very quickly, my little PowerPoint presentation came to life before my eyes.
We paved a road out past the farm house to the back of the property, where the main retreat buildings would stand, and we’ve spent every spare minute outside of Ridgecrest High building out my dream.
As things often do, the project has snowballed and taken on a life of its own.
Connor hasn’t said no once.
“You okay back there?” Connor tightens his grip on my thigh as his ATV careens down the road, a steady display of affection I’ve come to crave.
“I’m perfect,” I shout over the din of the engine.
And I mean it, down to my bones.
The slower pace, the privacy, the purpose I’ve found out here, laying down roots here feels like coming home in a way I never thought possible.
I haven’t heard from my dad since our final phone call, and I’ve never felt more free.
My mom reached out a few months ago for my birthday and didn’t say a word about him.
The sense of duty I once felt has been replaced with a quiet, content pride and confidence in myself, and the guilt of walking away from my career is fading more and more each day.
The main lodge comes into view as our ATV slows down.
A rustic building that houses a small recording studio, a few admin offices, and a big open dining and living area, it’s been meticulously planned to maximize collaboration and creativity.
Surrounding the lodge are a dozen tiny A-frame cabins, designed and built by Wells.
Eventually, I want to add a swimming pool, map out a nature trail, and maybe build an amphitheater.
But my favorite building is the auditorium.
A larger version of the cabins, the A-frame building sits on top of a hill at the very edge of the property.
Floor-to-ceiling windows give near-panoramic views of the rolling Tennessee hills.
It’s spacious but still intimate, and I’ve spent countless hours this summer sitting in the center, imagining all the music and memories that will be made there.
Despite my abrupt departure from the music scene, word traveled fast, and we’ve already drummed up a good bit of interest among young artists for our first retreat, scheduled for October.
I reached out to Molly Jo, hoping that maybe she’d like to come, and her publicist promised to get back to me, but considering our last interaction, I’m not holding my breath.
Connor maneuvers our ride up the hill towards my favorite spot. The evening sun is just starting to dip low on the horizon, painting the A-frame in a golden light.
“You ready?” He says, gently unbuckling and removing my helmet. He sets it down with his, then gestures towards my little oasis. A few of our friends have already gathered near the front steps, a big red ribbon tied across the banisters.
A ribbon cutting ceremony felt a little ridiculous, but Connor insisted.
“This is a big deal,” he said one Saturday morning as we shared our coffee on the back deck. “And we should celebrate it. I promise I won’t go over the top.”
But, as I’ve come to remember, subtle and lowkey aren't exactly words in Connor’s extensive vocabulary, at least when it comes to me. He’s taken every idea I have for the orchard and dialed it up to ten.
I’ve come to remember a lot since being back in Ridgecrest, like how hot a Tennessee July is, how well my hand fits in Connor’s, and how much easier it is to breathe when no one is watching my every move.
Connor leads the way to the top of the stairs, ducking under the ribbon as more of our friends and his family pull up.
Along with the huge ribbon, the banister is adorned with a dozen balloons on either side.
Mr. Majors brought apple turnovers, Caroline coordinated catering from Gustoso and Remi even flew out from L.A.
The inside of the auditorium is dripping in the best party decor our little Ridgecrest Walmart had to offer.
It’s totally over the top.
And, because Connor knows me so well, I love it all.
As the small crowd gathers, Connor presses a pair of laughably large scissors into my hand.
The setting sun catches on the small, singular stone on my left ring finger.
Connor swears it's not a proposal, not yet, but the promise holds true all the same.
He slid it onto my finger a week after we moved in together, over a breakfast of Lucky Charms.
“I found it a while back at an antique store, and it reminded me of you.”
The ring is simple, a little worn, and fits just right.
Connor clears his throat.
“If y’all don’t mind, I’d like to say a few words.”
The small crowd quiets.
“Thank you all for coming out today to celebrate the official reopening of The Orchard. Delaney, this is such a special thing you’ve done. You’ve given new life to this old land, and I know it won’t be the only transformation that happens here because of you.”
He laces his hand through mine and tugs me closer to his side.
“I’ve loved you in the dark, a secret held tight just for me. I’ve loved you under the blinding lights of fame, on display for the world to see. I’ve loved you through loss and fear and uncertainty. And I’ve loved you here, on this land, our land, since we were kids.”
His voice catches.
“Our love has roots here, and now because of you, our love has grown into something bigger than I ever dreamed. Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’m proud, I’m excited, Delaney James, I’m in awe of you.”
Connor clears his throat again, red-rimmed eyes turning to meet mine.
“Now cut the damn ribbon before I start crying up here.”
The giant scissors slice through the ribbon and our friends hoot and holler as they storm up the steps. The double doors open and music pours out of the room.
I let everyone pass, giving myself a moment to take it all in.
This oasis I dreamed up is filled with the most amazing group of people.
People who only knew me as a tabloid trouble-maker now embracing me as a member of their community.
New friends who can’t imagine me as anything other than the choir assistant down the hall.
And old friends who have loved me through my hardest days.
Ridgecrest has taught me that love is loud, messy, and sometimes, waiting for you where you least expect it.
“You coming, Lanie Lou?” Connor reaches out to me, and I happily accept his outstretched hand.
After years of carrying the weight of everyone else’s expectations, I’m finally setting them down.
The dream that I was chasing? The thing I thought would bring me peace? It turns out it wasn’t the spotlight. It was the new friendships I found in Ridgecrest, the old love I found with Connor, and the second chance I’ve found here at the orchard.
And for the first time in a long time, I can’t wait to see what comes next.