Page 148 of Next In Line

And just as the words left my mouth, Quinn stepped out of the gate, holding our two-year-old daughter, Sadie. With her dark hair pulled up into wispy pigtails high up on her head and those dueling dimples of hers, Sadie had earned the nickname Boo from her daddy’s side of the family. As the current youngest grandchild, Sadie was arguably the most adored McKallister of the bunch. In fact, when she was visiting Grammie and Grampie at the ‘castle,’ as she called it, her feet rarely touched the ground.

Noah stepped out of the gate, flinging his arm over Quinn’s shoulder and adding a tickle to Sadie’s neck. At thirteen years old, Noah was in that awkward stage of adolescence, but his long, skinny body and shiny row of braces did nothing to dampen his game—because he used Quinn to round the bases. Noah—bless him—had become an expert at pimping poor Quinn out for his own benefit by offering his stepdad up for school functions or impromptu backyard concerts to impress his other dentally disadvantaged friends.

“That’s Quinn McKallister,” Tammy from row eight screamed.

And just like an earlier Quinn sighting had done years before, the left side of the bus emptied onto the right side as sightseers craned to get a look at the man who warmed my bed at night. From my perch in the front, I could see him talking to Sadie, pointing out the bus, probably telling her I was on it as he urged her to wave. Those two. My god. They were heart-melting goodness.

And as my little family waved, Delene hung a hard right, surprising us all. I looked to her. She winked as she pulled into the driveway.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just following orders. If you’ve got a problem, take it up with management.”

“Uh, folks,” I said into the microphone. “I have no idea what’s happening here, but if I had to guess, I’d say we are all in for a really big treat, because see that hot rocker right there? That’s my husband. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned being married to him, it’s to expect the unexpected.”

Delene opened the door, and Quinn sent Sadie up the steps with a birthday balloon.

“Is that for me?” I asked, bending down to accept her gift before sweeping her into my arms and nuzzling her neck. “Thank you for my balloon, Boo.”

Noah was next. Climbing the two stairs, he handed me a balloon and kissed my cheek. “Happy birthday, Mom.”

“Thank you,” I said, attempting to give him a peck on the cheek, but he cowered away. Noah had entered the ‘Everything Mom does is horrifying’ stage of teendom. Quinn, being a famous musician and all, was still acceptable—for now.

Once he’d completed his duty, Noah turned to Quinn. “Can I go now?”

“Yes. Sorry for taking time out of your busy schedule of staring at your phone.”

“That’s fine. Just try to be more considerate next time.” He chuckled, sidestepping Quinn on the stairs. Once he was through the security gates, I heard him yell, “Love you, Mom.”

From his spot on the bottom step, Quinn said to me, “And just so you know, that small amount of interaction took an hour of negotiations, and I think I might have promised him that we’d invite some famous dancing TikToker to our house for dinner.”

“Oh, well, that’s alarming.”

He shrugged. “But you got your balloon, so that’s all that matters.”

“I did.” I laughed.

Quinn took the final step, handing me another balloon and kissing me. “Happy birthday, babe.”

There was a collective sigh. I’d nearly forgotten about my passengers.

“This is so sweet. Thank you. Now, take Sadie. I have to finish my tour.”

“Not so fast,” Quinn said, producing another balloon from behind his back. He bent down and kissed my pregnant belly. “And one more. From Liam.”

39

Epilogue Two: Quinn

Isat on the darkened stage, guitar in hand, my boots propped up on the bottom rung of the stool. A fluttering in my chest was the only indication of the monumental moment that was about to occur.

Someday, you and me, we’re going to sing on the world stage together, and no one will ever forget our names.

How many nights had I fallen asleep to Jake’s long-ago premonition? All my life I’d dreamed of this. Jake and me, side by side. We’d played together in the past, but never like this. Never as equals on a world stage.

Jake lifted his eyes, settling on mine. I think he knew the significance of the moment as well as I did. In my mind, we’d been rivals from the start. But that might have been more wishful thinking than anything else. If I were Jake, looking down from his place of glory, would I have regarded me as anything more than a spastic bug avoiding a solid squishing by scurrying about in the cracks of the sidewalk? Probably not.

But times had changed, and Jake had had a front row seat to the proceedings. He’d watched me rise. Show after show. Concert after sold-out concert. Slowly but surely, our names appeared side by side on awards shows and on the music charts, our songs playing back-to-back on the radio. There was no denying the distance I’d erased between us. Yes, Jake still existed on that top rung where the biggest and brightest got to shine, but so now did I. And like Jake, I was here to stay.

My eyes still trained on my brother, I smiled. He tipped his head down, laughing absently to himself before looking back up at me through the strands of his shoulder-length hair. He nodded. It was a welcome of sorts, an acceptance that I’d earned my spot beside his throne.

The lights went up. And we began to play.

The End