A Song For Rory. Cerella Sechrist
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“Give me your word that you’re staying.”
She shifted uncomfortably, and he wondered if her plan had been to bolt as soon as she got the chance.
“I’m staying,” she agreed.
He waited, eyeing her, uncaring about the impatient murmurs sounding behind him. She sighed and tugged her wrist free from his grasp.
“I promise,” she agreed.
Satisfied, he reached for the guitar she’d set aside and adjusted the strap to better fit his broad shoulders. Rory hopped off the stage and took a place at the bar, people moving to accommodate her. He kept a steady eye on her until she nodded, and he decided she’d keep her word.
Only then did he turn to the audience.
“How y’all doing tonight?” It was the standard way he opened his performances, giving his audience the chance to express their enthusiasm. Tonight was no exception. The crowded coffeehouse exploded with applause, whistles and hollering.
“How about Miss Rory Callahan? She’s something, isn’t she?”
More shouts and some foot stomping. He glanced Rory’s way, and she was focused solely on him, ignoring the reactions from the crowd. He strummed a few notes to get a feel for the instrument.
“I hope you don’t mind me taking the spotlight away from Rory, since she’s the one you came to see.”
The audience responded with reassurances as Sawyer finished tuning the guitar to his satisfaction. In some ways, it was strange to be performing for such a small group again. He’d grown used to stadium crowds, massive sound systems and rows of bright lights shining down on him. Up here, on such a tiny platform with only a few house lights, he felt himself relax. As much as he loved the thrill and adrenaline of a powerhouse performance, there was something familiar and comforting about such an intimate venue.
“Well, if you don’t mind me playing a song or two, how about we pick things up a little?”
With that, he strummed the first few chords of one of his recent hits, a slightly rockabilly tune about a teenage boy trying to impress a hard-to-win girl. He looked at Rory a few times as he sang and caught her frowning at the lyrics. He wondered if she’d ever heard it before, if she knew he’d written it with her in mind. When they were younger, she’d been a vulnerable, guarded girl, but that had been part of what drew him to her initially. He could see she was wounded, still trying to find her place. But she was tough and unapologetic about being different from the typical teenage girls he knew. She’d caught his heart without him realizing it, and, as the lyrics said, “Drew him in with a smile.”
The audience enjoyed the song, clapping along and singing the chorus in unison with him. When he wrapped it up with a riff on the guitar strings, the crowd broke into rowdy applause.
He raised a hand to settle them. “Glad you enjoyed that,” he offered. “It seems like you guys know some of my music.”
There was a ripple of laughter that went around the room.
“Any requests?”
For the next half hour, Sawyer played several songs from his album and even a tune he hadn’t performed in years, thanks to a request from an old high-school friend in the audience. He kept an eye on Rory as he sang and even managed to catch a smile on her face at one point, which she quickly wiped away when she saw him watching her.
He’d learned to read an audience quite well in his years of performing, especially a small group like this. So when he sensed they were ready, he thumbed a couple softer chords.
“I appreciate you guys giving me the chance to play a few songs here this evening, but I know you didn’t come to hear me. You came for Rory. Some of you know that Rory and I were a joint act for years. Now, I’ve played with a lot of talented people since. But I’ve got to tell you that none of them quite measure up to her.”
There were murmurs of approval moving through the room.
“I don’t know if it’s those Irish roots of hers or something she inherited from her parents, but you’ve got to give it to her—the girl’s got spirit, and she knows music.”
The murmurs grew louder, and a couple people even clapped. He slid a glance Rory’s way. She was looking down at the bar, and though he couldn’t see her face, he suspected she was blushing.
“So, to finish up tonight, I’d like to ask her to come up here and join me.”
Rory’s head snapped up, and his suspicions were confirmed. Her cheeks were tinted pink, and her eyes were wide with surprise.
“And we’ll perform a duet for you.”
There were more whistles and shouts of approval, but Sawyer didn’t pay them any mind. He didn’t need this crowd’s permission. He only needed Rory’s. He looked at her, trying to convey his thoughts with his eyes.
Please. Come and sing with me once more.
He wasn’t sure she’d do it. Rory was stubborn, and she wouldn’t stand for being bullied or manipulated. Neither of which he was trying to do, but he wasn’t sure she’d see it that way. So he was a little surprised, but mostly relieved, when she pushed away from the counter and stood to her feet.
She made her way back to the stage and came to stand beside him. And having her there, it was almost as if the last two years had ceased to exist, and they’d never been separated at all.
* * *
RORY’S HEART WAS thundering in her chest so loudly that she feared the microphone would pick it up. She should have known Sawyer would find a way to turn the situation around on her. But what worried her most was what a thrill it gave her. It had been nearly two years since they’d shared a stage. But standing here next to him, all that time melted away, and for a brief moment, she could have almost convinced herself that nothing had changed.
Sawyer kept the guitar, and though she waited to hear the opening chords, she knew which song he’d choose. As she’d expected, he launched into a duet they’d performed many times—a heartbreaking song about love and loss and the determination to keep going through it all.
He took the first verse, and she waited to join him until the chorus. When she did, their voices blended in such achingly sweet harmony that she had to blink back tears.
Why had Sawyer come back now, after all this time? She’d waited for him at first, thinking he’d realize what he’d done, that he couldn’t live his life without her. But as seasons changed and summer turned into fall and then winter, and she heard his first single on the radio, she had to accept that they were finished. She had spent nearly as much of her life with Sawyer as without him, so it had taken her a long time to adjust to his complete and utter defection. Most days, it still felt a little odd not to see him. They had been such a constant part of each other’s lives that something still felt missing in her day when he wasn’t there, like forgetting to brush her teeth or how to tie her shoes.
Not that she equated her relationship with Sawyer to those things, but he had always been such a steady part of her life. When he’d taken that away, she’d