Falling Away (31 page)

Echo’s voice lifts into the air, rises and washes over the packed auditorium, a dulcet and magical note that carries and carries, looped through a digital effect for several more measures.

And then the note dies and she sings, harmonized every few lines by Brayden and Mim:
 

“
An instant, oh just a single fragment

Is all it takes to turn my long lament

Into a song of dizzy joy,

To shake the sorrow from my bones

And know that I am not alone.

An instant, oh just a single glance

Just a single touch, by chance,

And I know I’m not alone.

All the sorrow, love of mine,

Oh, you take it all away,

You send it with the wind,

All the sorrow, love of mine,

All the sadness, oh, all the guilt,

The tower of my solitude,

It’s falling, falling, falling away.

An instant, oh, just a single fragment

Is all it takes to turn my long lament

Into a song of love,

To shake the sorrow from my bones,

And know that I am not alone.

An instant, oh, just a single kiss

And I’m raptured, oh, oh, I’m drowning in your bliss,

My senses drown in the brown of your eyes
 

And oh, all the history is buried by our sighs,

All the sorrow and oh, all the guilt,

It’s all pulled down, down with all the walls I built,

It’s falling, falling, falling away,

Love of mine, oh

Love of mine, oh,

I’m falling, falling away, away,

I’m sinking into you, oh, and I’ll forever stay,

So take me now and lay me down,
 

Fall with me, oh,

Sing with me, sigh with me, lie with me,

Because it’s you and only you,

Whose kiss, whose touch, whose love,

Who with a single word, oh, a single glance,

Can change the vagaries of chance,

Can sweep me up and make me dance,

Can shake the sorrow from my bones,

Show me that I’m not alone,

With just an instant, oh,
 

With just a kiss and I know,
 

It’s going to be okay, oh, going to be okay,

Because
 

We’re falling, falling, falling away.
”
 

The band jams for a couple minutes after the harmonized vocals fall away, Echo dancing at the mic, swaying and nodding and turning to watch her friends as they play, and then all the instruments drop out one by one, in reverse order of how they came in, until it’s just Atticus slamming his kick drum, and then the stage lights drop and the crowd is howling in the darkness. The lights come back up to reveal Brayden and Echo hugging, laughing, and then Echo grabs the mic off the stand.

“It’s so good to be back on stage. It’s been a long time, feels like a lifetime in a lot of ways, actually.” She turns to glance at me, smiling, and then returns her attention to the audience. “So much has changed for me since the last time Echo the Stars performed live. Everything, really. Me, most of all. I found love, you see. What happened is…I woke up, and I looked around me. I had to hit bottom, and hit it hard enough to shake me before I was ready to see what’s around me.” She turns and points at each of the band members. “These guys, my family. Atticus, Vance—” Her voice drops and she says the next name with a dramatic flair, “William Wolf…my girl Mim, sweet, beautiful Memphis, and of course, my best friend, my brother-in-arms, Brayden. They’ve all been there for me all along, I was just…I had my head too far up my own ass to see it. Guys…? I see it now. So thanks.”

She points at me, smiles, crooks her finger at me. I shake my head.

Echo turns to the crowd. “Ya’ll want to meet the other reason I’m up here? The person who has been most instrumental in helping me wake up to the beauty of life?” She strides across the stage and grabs my arm, pulls at me. I resist, but I go with her because I can’t deny her anything. She hauls me front and center, beneath the spotlight. Brayden rests his hand on my shoulder and leans against me, and Echo hooks her arm around my waist on the other side of me, rests her cheek against my chest, and speaks into the microphone. “Isn’t he gorgeous? Yeah, you have no idea. He’s the reason I’m here. I think if it hadn’t been for my man Ben, I wouldn’t be here. I’d have drunk myself to death. Ben and Brayden, both of them, are amazing. I quit drinking, by the way. Thirteen months, not a drop.”

I stare out at the crowd, and for a moment or two, I see what Echo sees when she’s up here, what Kylie and Oz see, what Colt and Nell see: thousands of faces grinning and cheering, hands raised, cell phones flashing, a sea of humanity and noise. It’s exhilarating.
 

I’m tempted to spin around right now and drop to my knee, pull out the ring I’ve had with me for weeks. But I don’t. Yeah, I’ve seen Colt and Nell’s proposal video, and even Oz and Kylie’s. Those proposals are cute and romantic and whatever. But it’s not me, and it’s not us. When it comes down to it, I’m a more traditional guy. I’ve got a plan and I’m going to stick to it; I’m just waiting on some official news.

I let the moment pass, and when Echo turns to me, I cup her face in both hands and kiss her until the crowd starts whistling and Brayden makes an amused yet disgusted sound. I laugh, and make my way off-stage, where I watch the rest of their set. When they’re done, I help the band tear down their gear and load it into the back of the semi trailer waiting to take them to the first stop of the tour, in Memphis. By the time all that’s done, The Harris Mountain Boys are jamming onstage, and the band and I cluster off-stage and watch.

I finally catch a moment alone with Echo, deep in the shadows backstage. I pin her to the cinderblock wall and kiss her breathless. “I’m proud of you, Echo,” I tell her. “And I love you.”

She stares up at me. “I was sure you were gonna propose there, for a second.”

“Disappointed?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No. I would have said yes, but…”

“It’s not us.”

She grins and kisses my jaw. “No, it’s not. I’m glad you know me well enough to know that.”

“I’m a traditional guy, when it comes right down to it.”

Her eyes light up. “So you
are
planning to propose, then?”

I shrug with false nonchalance. “I can neither confirm nor deny the substance of any rumors you may have heard.”
 

“You are! You so are!”

“Someday,” I tell her, and touch my lips to her neck, and then tug aside the scoop neck of her sundress and kiss the slope of her breast, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “Could be tomorrow, could be next year.”

“Better not be next year,” Echo breathes, “I’m too impatient for that. And we’re on the road tomorrow.”

“Somewhere in the middle, then.”

“I want to tell you something, though. I’ve been thinking about this, and you should know about it before you do propose, whenever that might be.” She has a serious tone to her voice, and she pushes my face away from where I’ve been nuzzling the sweet, lush valley of her cleavage. “Listen, Ben, please?”

I stand up straight and smile at her. “Tell me.”

“When we get married, I want to keep my last name. Not because of my father, but because of Mom. It…connects me to her.”

I wrap her in my arms and crush her close. “Echo, baby, as long as you’re mine, legally, emotionally, mentally, and physically, you can do whatever you want with your name. I love you, and I just want us to be married.”

“But you said you’re a traditional guy and traditionally, I’d take your last name, or at least hyphenate, but I—”

I touch a finger to her lips, silencing her. “You are Echo Leveaux. It’s who you are.”

“I’m yours, Ben. I want to be your wife, in every way.”

“And that’s all that matters.”

She grins up at me. “Can’t we just call
that
a proposal?”

I shake my head. “No way. I’ve got a plan. It doesn’t count unless I ask you the question and you say yes. That’s how it works. Plus there’s gotta be a ring involved.”

“Do you have a ring picked out?”

I have it in my pocket right now, but I don’t breathe a word about it. “Maybe. Maybe not. Now stop asking questions so you can pretend to be surprised when I do ask you.”

She lets it go, and kisses me until I’m ready to take her right there against the wall. I manage to hold back, which turns out to be a good thing, since Brayden comes to find us to tell us that there’s reservations for us in twenty minutes at a nearby restaurant, and to say that all of us—The Harris Mountain Boys, the Calloways, Oz and Kylie—had better get moving.
 

*
 
*
 
*

Three months later, and the tour is finally over. Echo and the rest of her band are all arriving home today, after three straight months on the road. I’ve been able to fly out to meet them on the road when my schedule as a graduate assistant coach at Vanderbilt allows. I’ve put in eighteen months in that position, learning the ropes, and realizing I’m even better on the sidelines than I was on the field playing.

Two weeks ago I had my first official interview with the coaching and management staff of the Tennessee Titans. This morning, I got the phone call.
 

I am now the youngest person in history to hold a position on the coaching staff of an NFL team. I’m an assistant offensive line coach, thanks in part to my father’s influence. He convinced them to watch me at Vanderbilt, to talk to the coaches, and they saw my potential, agreed to an interview, and were duly impressed.

So now I’ve got a master’s degree in management, and a career in coaching. And the ring that’s been burning a hole in my pocket for the last four months is about to get put to use.
 

We’re back
, comes the text from Echo.
Where are you?

I haven’t seen her in nearly a month, as I haven’t been able to make it out to see the show in a while, what with finishing my degree on such an accelerated pace. I’ve been putting in eighteen-hour days for the last year and half, powering through the master’s program as fast as possible, watching hundreds of hours of tape and attending practices and working out, plus spending time with Echo and going to as many of their local gigs as I can.
 

It’s all been worth it though, all part of my plan to be ready to marry the girl I love so much. I just couldn’t ask her when I had no direction in my life, or when I had no way to support her, and us. Her music career is taking off, but I wanted to have us covered so she never has to focus on anything else, no matter what happens.

Go home. I left you a note
.
 

That sounds cryptic
.
 

Muahahahaha. *diabolical laugh*

What are you planning?

Just go home and read the note, Echo
.

Fine.
 

Good.

Whatever, weirdo.
 

I wait for her to find the note instructing her to meet me at Fannie Mae Dees Park.
 

I’m on the way to the park now. Why are we meeting there? I’m tired. I’ve been on the road since yesterday morning.
 

I don’t bother answering, because the park is only a couple blocks from her and Bray’s apartment—which is where I’m also pretty much living, at this point. I see her approach, and I see the moment when she sees the first votive candle floating in its glass dish of water. Her hand goes to her mouth, and she pauses, glancing down at the candle on the sidewalk. And then she looks up at me, waiting under the gazebo. She follows the path of floating candles, one after another, as they lead to me. I’ve arranged candles in a circle around the picnic table where we had that breakthrough conversation. The candles leading up the path are all small tea lights, but the candles circling me are all big white cylinders with thick wicks, the biggest candles I could find, a hundred of them. It’s dusk, sunlight fading to golden-pink evening, and the lights flicker in the still air.
 

She stops in front of me, her eyes already wet with unshed tears. And, thank you god, she’s wearing the same white dress she wore that night, although this time she has a bra on, and presumably underwear as well.
 

“Hi,” she says, her voice small.

“Hi.” I’m wearing a pair of khakis, and a polo shirt with the Titans logo on the left side, with my name embroidered on the right.
 

Echo takes in my clothing, my shirt, and her brows draw down in thought. “Ben? Does that shirt mean what I think it means?”

She knew I was hoping, and she knew I was waiting for the interview, but she doesn’t know I got the interview or the position. Or rather, she didn’t know, until now.

I nod. “Yeah, baby. You’re looking at the youngest coach in NFL history. Assistant offensive line coach.”
 

She squeals in joy, bounces on her toes, and then leaps into my arms. “BEN! I’m so
so
proud of you! When did you find out?”

“This morning.” I let her down onto her feet, and my hands end up cupping her backside. “I had the interview two weeks ago, but I didn’t tell you. I wanted to wait until I knew for sure.”

She grins up at me and clings to my waist. “That is so cool. You look sexy in coaching gear. Will you get to wear one of those headsets?”

I laugh. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Yummy. My man is an NFL coach.” She kisses my throat, my chin, and then my lips. “So what’s with all the candles?”

I let her continue kissing me as I answer. “I told you I was traditional, right? Well, I’ve been waiting to do this until I had a job to support us. Now I do.”