I clap for the performer when he’s done, and for the next one. I’ve learned that it’s polite to stay and listen to the other artists, and I’m calming down and listening and enjoying the music. The waitress comes around for drink refills, and I ask for a bottle of water, which I proceed to guzzle down.
I’m doing it. I’m living on my own. I’m making music that moves people. And I put aside my fears and opened myself to love—which is the scariest thing of all.
But also—the best thing.
Epilogue
OWEN
* * *
I watch Emerie up in the wings of the temporary stage in Central Park, holding her guitar. I’m in the crowd gathered on the grass. It’s a warm June day, the sky overcast, but it doesn’t feel like rain.
It’s her turn. The emcee, a local radio deejay, announces her name and she strides out onto the stage, waving at the crowd. I clap loudly, hands in the air, as do my teammates around me and their wives and girlfriends.
Today is also the dog fashion show, in a different location in the park. How they ended up the same day was some really shitty timing, but we had to deal. There was no way we weren’t going to be here to support her. We managed to find enough volunteers to take over for a few minutes so we could race over here to hear Emerie perform.
Cat is beside me, jumping up and down. She thinks Emerie’s busking is super cool. And on the other side of her is Vince. Also clapping. Here for Emerie.
Vince is still kind of an asshole, but he’s stepped up for Cat, and he’s even invited Emerie and me over for dinner a few times. I’ve also seen him at Cat’s gymnastics open house and her birthday party. He’s picked up Cat from Emerie’s apartment a few times.
Emerie takes her place in front of the mic. The judges—pop singer Abrianna, country singer Jeb Irwin, and Broadway star Khalil Brown—sit at a long table on the right side of the stage. Emerie’s image is projected onto a big screen on the left. She’s so beautiful. She’s wearing a pink flowered dress and her long hair flows in waves over her shoulders. I see the nerves in her eyes, the slight tightness of her smile. But her open mic nights have helped prepare her for this—the biggest audience she’s ever played to.
I can’t help but think of the first times I saw her play in the subway. How her music touched me. How she sang about soul mates, and I didn’t know if there really was such a thing.
Now I know there is. And she’s mine. She’s my best friend. I feel alive when I’m around her yet calm. She makes me feel things, things I tried not to feel for so long, but balances all different emotions. And I think I balance her. We’ve both had a lot of growing to do, learning about ourselves and about each other and who we want to be. We have fun together. Yeah, we’ve both learned the importance of friends and fun. And like she said to me that day she walked out my life, which turned out not to be forever, thank God, I want the best for her. I’ll do whatever it takes to give her that.
She sings, “Without You,” which has been getting tons of attention on her SoundCloud. Her voice is getting better and stronger. As the last note fades, the crowd goes wild. She finds me in the crowd and meets my eyes. She presses her hand to her heart and mouths, “I love you.”
I nod, letting her know I feel the same, my smile so big my face hurts.
“Thank you!” she calls to the audience. “Thank you so much!” She bows, waves to the crowd and heads offstage.
The judges will have some time to confer on the top three, which they’ll announce in reverse order—third, second, first place.
I leave the others and make my way to the stage to find Emerie. She spots me and moves toward me through a bunch of people, holding her guitar. I wrap my arms around her and spin her around.
“You totally killed it,” I tell her.
“Oh God. I did it.”
“I’m sure you’ll win.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She leans back in my arms and smiles up at me. “I did it. What happens in the contest doesn’t matter.”
“Emerie. Hi.”
We both turn to look at the man stopped near us. Roman.
My gut clenches. Christ, I haven’t seen him in months. What the fuck is he doing here?
Then I notice a woman with him, petite, with long, shiny black hair...and holding his hand. Huh.
“Roman. Hi.” Emerie turns in my arms and I release her. Not totally. I keep a hand on her waist.
“Congratulations. That was an amazing performance. I had no idea…” He stops. “You’re very talented.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m blown away,” he says. “Uh, this is Sophia Delos Reyes. My girlfriend. Sophia, Emerie Ross and Owen Cooke.”
“Nice to meet you,” Emerie murmurs.
Sophia smiles warmly. “I loved your performance. Just beautiful. I hope you win!”
“Thank you so much.”
“Just wanted to say hi,” Roman says. “Congrats again.”
They move away, and Emerie turns to me, eyes wide. “He has a girlfriend!”
“Thank fuck. If he was stalking you here, I’d have to punch him.”
She laughs softly. “You can’t do that off the ice, honey.”
I laugh, too. I don’t even do that on the ice.
After learning that it had been Roman pressuring Vince to break us up using money as enticement, or threat, however you want to look at it, I was ready to go after him. Luckily, he seemed to finally get the message that his bullshit wasn’t going to work. Vince finally stood up to him and told him he could shove his money up his ass if he thought Vince would sabotage the team. Or Emerie. Which made me respect Vince a little more. And despise Roman.
Our season ended a while back. It was a long, hard season, but we all felt proud of how we played.
The truth is, hockey’s not my top priority anymore. I still want to do the best I can. But my top priority now is Emerie. Making her happy. Supporting her. Seeing her.
Another Epilogue
THE HOCKEY TIMES
New York, New York
* * *
Citing losses of $42 million over the last two seasons and an inability to negotiate a more favorable lease at the Apex Center, owner of the New York Bears Vince D’Agostino has filed for reorganization under Chapter 11 of the Federal Bankruptcy Code.
“This will have absolutely no effect on Bears games, on our payroll, on the club’s playing schedule, or any of our hockey operations,” D’Agostino said in a statement. “The team, our season-ticket holders and our corporate sponsors will be protected during this reorganization.”
“This is no doubt disappointing,” NHL commissioner Thomas Yang said. “But the team ownership has committed to work to resolve their financial issues and we are optimistic that the franchise will be financially and competitively successful in New York.”
There are rumors that former team star Johnny Risley is planning to sue the team over deferred payments still owed to him, but this has not been confirmed at this time.
Thank you so much for reading The O Zone!