Page 127 of Riding the High

“Gotta get a win for my daughter’s first game,” Wade replies.

“I think I might need to have you keep that jersey on later,” Cole mutters in my ear as he reaches me. “Goddamn that does something to me.”

Mabel skips over to us and Cole ruffles her hair.

“Ready for the show, Half Pint?” he asks with a wink.

She nods excitedly and winks back. “Good luck, Sir Peanut Butter Cups!”

He winks again and then they high-five, signaling that they share a secret. I look between them.

“What am I missing?” I ask them both, folding my arms over my chest. Mabel looks at Cole and giggles. I turn back to him and see his finger against his lips before he swiftly pulls it down.

I narrow my eyes at him and he shrugs sheepishly. Something is definitely up. But I have no time to figure out what because suddenly my jersey is being tugged on, followed by a chorus of “Miss Danforth?” I turn to find three of my students from last year’s homeroom class standing beside me. We chat for a few minutes about our summers, and what we’ve all been up to.

“Would you help us for the school socials?” Josie Grass, one of my favorite students, asks me. “We’re going to sing the national anthem and wondered if you would record it for us at ice level? My mom was supposed to do it but she’s running late.”

CeCe arrives next to us at exactly the right time.

“Go for it, Ginger. Mabes can come with me. Right, Mabes?” She smiles at me. “You can find us after the game starts. We’ll be just up there.”

I thank CeCe and turn back to my students.

“Sure,” I tell them. “Whose phone am I using?”

We head over to the ice so they can get set up. The game is due to start in ten minutes and the whole arena is packed. The second-period music class from last year are on the ice and I’m surprised when I realize that I’ve taught almost every one of them at one time or another. I had no idea they were doing this.

The crowd falls into a hush as the students begin their version of “The Star-Spangled Banner.” I record dutifully in my cowboy boots and watch with pride as the crowd sings along. When they’re done, the lights suddenly cut out and the entirearena turns black. I’m looking around as my eyes adjust to the lack of light and wondering if there’s a technical difficulty when the opening notes of “H.O.L.Y.” by Florida Georgia Line begin to play on the sound system. The jumbotron in the middle of the ice lights up with agiantphoto of me at fifteen, sporting braces and looking slightly awkward sitting on the Ashbys’ patio with CeCe. Cole is standing behind me, holding up bunny ears and making the goofiest face. Then another image appears on the screen. This time it’s of the three of us eating cotton candy at the town fair, followed by another of us at mine and CeCe’s prom. It’s a candid shot of us girls waiting for our dates. Cole stands behind us, wearing casual clothes and holding my clutch while CeCe fluffs my dress. The photos continue to roll: Ashby Christmas movie nights when we were young, backyard fires, always Cole and I near each other, as natural as can be. There’s one where I’m in my last year of high school, his arm around me, and another of him, CeCe, Jo and I at one of Nash’s games in Nashville. Each memory flashes up in time to the song and the crowd is silent.

The photos showing now are of just Cole and me, a little older than before, and mostly selfies from the beginning of our friendship after CeCe left. I’m looking at one where he holds a baby Mabel at the Ashbys’ and I’m leaning in with a big smile on my face. Then I’m watching us on his couch on what could be any random night, before a picture I sent to Cole pops up—me pouting as I order his pizza during a Reds–Yankees game in 2021. Then we’re on the dance floor at Nash and CeCe’s engagement party, and back in Vegas, beaming and slightly tipsy.

After the evidence from the weekend we got married fades away, photos from the last three months start, photos I never even knew had been taken. There are so many of Mabel and me: in the pool, in the garden, at the cabin. There are snaps of Cole and me in the backyard too—me taking a big bite out ofa burger he made. They’re neverending and they’re totally and completely us.

At some point, the song ends, and a spotlight drops to the center of the ice. Tears are streaming down my cheeks when I see Cole standing under the light. He skates over, stopping just in front of me. When he kisses me, a dizzy sort of haze takes over.

“How did you? What is …” I whisper.

He grins.

“Ginger, you’re the love of my life. And this”—he points to the screen—“is only the beginning of our story. You’re the face I want to see every single morning, the one I want to share my thoughts with, my needs with. You’re the one I’m always talking to even when I’m not with you, the one I dream about. And if you let me …” He drops to one knee before me and I gasp. Cole holds up the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen: a perfectly cut round diamond encased in a double band. I instantly recognize my Vegas band incorporated into the new design.

He covers his mic.

“Buried in your purse, right?” he grins, before uncovering his mic.

A tear slides down my cheek. I swipe it away.

“I never thought I’d be lucky enough to end up here, on my knee before you, Ginger, but I know without a doubt when my lungs pull in their last breath, my final thoughts will be of you and our family. Thing is, it’s always been you, and it always will be. So what do you say, baby? Will you do me the incredible honor of being my PIC forever?” he says. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” I cry as he stands and lifts me up, crushing his lips to mine.

“It’s always been you too, Cole,” I whisper. He covers the mic again and leans in.

“Let’s make this marriage official,” he says softly into my ear, sending goosebumps down my spine. The crowd explodesaround us, and I’m momentarily stunned by the flash of cameras. Once my eyes have adjusted, I see my family in the stands clapping and cheering. Then I see Cole’s family doing the same, laughing and smiling. But mostly I see him and those amber eyes I’ve loved for so long, and when Mabel comes onto the ice to join us, I hug her too.

“You knew about this, didn’t you, sweet girl?” I ask.

She nods and wraps her little arms around me.

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