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“If you didn’t do something,” he said between kisses, “I would have.” He set her on her feet. “You’re so damn beautiful.”
“You clean up pretty nice yourself.”
“You ready to do this thing?”
She nodded. “So ready.”
There might have been wedding music, she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t hear anything over the happiness buzzing through her bloodstream. She got to Elvis with his swirl of black hair and oversized sunglasses and laughed so hard she had tears.
Axl came careening down the aisle in his drunken toddler walk and clasped his arms around Michael’s legs.
Michael squatted down to his height. “So, you think it’s okay to marry your mom? I love her very much. Just as much as I love you.”
“Chopter!”
Chloe choked back tears. No crying, dammit.
Michael laughed. “I’m going with it.” He stood, holding Axl close to his side. “After you, Elvis.”
She said her vows.
Michael said his.
She held out her hand. It was rock steady. This was exactly what she wanted. And finally, he slipped her sapphire and diamond ring on her finger where it belonged.
"No chance I'll forget this time, Mrs. Shawcross." He grinned. "Now let's go have us a honeymoon." He glanced down at Axl and his expression softened. "Or at least rent a honeymoon suite."
Epilogue
September
This definitely ranked as one of the most interesting shows Michael had ever performed.
Rather than a front row of fans rocking out, this first row was full of kids and their parents. The second and third rows too. The rest of the people were standing, clustered in groups at the back of the newly built tasting room at Happy Acres Orchard—and now Winery. His grandparents had decided to open up their brand new winery with some entertainment, and who better than Warning Sign? They weren’t exactly the kind of musical act one would expect to find at an orchard filled with kids and families, but the band had enjoyed coming up with a child-friendly set. Between his own experience with Axl, and Molly’s with her nephews, Dylan and Seth, plus Elle’s with her nieces, Charlotte and Avery, the band was full up on kid time and knew what might work for a younger crowd.
Of course Juliet, West and Ryan hadn’t been as excited until they’d started jamming out to some Sesame Street classics, and hell, who didn’t enjoy those? Add a rock flair and everyone had a good time.
Plus, Nick had allowed them to play his song “Lullaby”. The tune only occasionally came out at Oblivion’s acoustic sets, on account of the fact it was a song he’d written for his twins. Oddly enough, most hard rock crowds didn’t appreciate being lulled into unconsciousness at the end of a show.
This bunch though? They were lapping it up. Literally, since at least a fourth of the audience had apple juice boxes or applesauce cups.
Michael strummed through the end notes of “Lullaby” on his well-loved Gibson, which had stickers all over the back from his travels. As a teenager, he’d been stupid enough to slap stickers on the wood casing rather than his travel case. Now he liked the vintage, distressed look of the guitar, and especially he loved the way the instrument purred under his touch like a well-satisfied woman. As the song came to a close, he eased back and let Elle take over, using the moment to finish up with some percussion with his hand gently thumping the guitar.
They had their own full-time percussion now though, and it wasn’t Ryan, currently working his magic on a triangle. At the beginning of the song, he’d played a piccolo. The kids had stared up at Ry as if he were the Pied freaking Piper.
But on the drums was Malachi fucking Shawcross. He seemed more than a little shell-shocked at playing for a bunch of rugrats and their parents, but he appeared to be having a good time. Even Michael’s gruff, often sullen older brother loved Lila’s parents. Back when he’d had no use for Lila, he’d still been won over by Gram and Pop. Who wouldn’t be? For two boys from sun-drenched California who’d never seen snow, Happy Acres had been like an oasis. Crisp leaves, juicy apples, a real family. They’d been as starstruck as some of these kids were now at seeing their instruments and amps.
Family, man, was a beautiful thing.
Michael smiled at his own sitting off to the side of the first row. Axl danced between Chloe’s legs, clapping with the rest of the kids as the song ended. He couldn’t get enough of the orchard. Lila’s dad had taken him out apple picking the day before, and since then, he’d been begging Chloe and Michael to do it again.
They’d be going out tomorrow bright and early, before the Sunday crowd swamped the place in earnest. Axl was almost two-and-a-half now and getting into everything. He seemed to be teething constantly, and he had tantrums on a nightly basis. But he liked picking apples and eating applesauce and jumping in Pop’s ginormous piles of leaves, so Michael was all for it. They’d be coming back out to the orchard for Thanksgiving, and maybe Christmas too. All depended on how the rest of the year’s band schedule shook out. Lila was booking them for basically anything she could get. Now that Warning Sign wasn’t in the tabloids because of Michael’s partying, or love life issues, or sudden weddings by Elvis,
they were focusing on promoting their music.
As far as Michael was concerned, that was just freaking fine. He’d be good with never being caught in a media maelstrom again.
“How do you guys feel about doing something a little different?” Molly asked, clapping her hands and playing the peppy cheerleader routine to the hilt. She genuinely loved kids and she had a way with them. She was also as pretty as a fairy tale princess so they all squealed and bounced on their tiny sneakers. “Let’s play ‘What time is it, Mr. Fox’. Do you guys know that game?”
