Page 62 of The Parent Playbook
“We’ve tried everything!” Andy throws his hands up. “Wepractically wrote the book on how to get your parents to realize they love each other. Why is it taking so long for you to see it?”
“What?” Scotty tilts his head. “How?”
“Morse code!” Andy declares, and it’s all coming clear to me now.
Lily sighs. “Setting up the conversation with Angel about woman stuff.”
“Maple Fest photos.” Andy points a finger in the air.
“Movie night,” Lily adds.
“That was a good one.” Andy nods at Lily.
“You two …” I start, but have no idea how to finish.
Lily wags a finger at Scotty. “Don’t you get it? This was meant to be. So, now that we’ve decided we’re staying, will you stop being silly and give the woman areal kiss?”
I’m caught somewhere between laughter and tears, the joy bubbling up so fiercely it’s almost overwhelming. I look at Scotty, who’s already gazing at me, tenderness in his eyes like the floodgates have opened and the only thing left is to admit the truth.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Guess we’re the last to know, huh?”
“Guess we’ve got some smart kids,” I manage to say.
“KISS!” Andy and Lily shout in unison.
Their voices carry, turning heads, but I don’t care.
Scotty steps closer, his hands finding my waist. In one smooth motion, he lifts me from the stands, his hockey gear pressing into my sides, but I barely notice. His lips meet mine in a kiss that feels like it’s been years in the making. A siren wails somewhere in the distance, a spotlight sweeps over us briefly. The kids’ cheers blend with those of the crowd around us, but I’m lost in this kiss, the world narrowing down to the man whose arms are securely around me.
There, with his lips pressed against mine and the cheers of our own personal fan club ringing in my ears, it’s obvious.
Sometimes the fairy tale ending is less fluffy dress and more hockey pads, sweat, and two precocious preteens.
And it turns out I don’t mind one bit.
CHAPTER 26
EPILOGUE - SCOTTY
Summer in Maple Falls is no joke. The sun’s blazing down like it’s trying to make a point, and I’m out here at Happy Horizons Ranch, hat pulled down low, sweating buckets and loving every minute of it. The ranch has never looked better, sprawling green fields rolling out like a welcome mat to the summer sky, kids’ laughter echoing off the barns that shine in the midday light.
I’m hauling a wheelbarrow full of tools across the yard, aiming to fix a loose board on the chicken coop, when Edgar the goat decides he’s got other plans for my day. With a mischievous glint that I swear is almost human, he headbutts the wheelbarrow, sending a cascade of hammers and wrenches clattering to the ground.
“Edgar,” I groan, bending to pick up the scattered tools, “you’ve really got to stop ‘butting’ into my business.”
The kids nearby catch my joke, rolling their eyes but laughing as they chase each other around. They’re here for the summer program, which is another way Happy Horizons expanded after the Ice Breakers’ season finale. Funding took off like a rocket, with more kids than ever enjoying a slice of true childhood. Thanks to Angel’s relentless efforts and a communitythat’s got our back, there are arts and crafts stations set up under the trees, a small soccer field buzzing with pint-sized players, and even a splash pad to beat the heat.
I straighten up, wipe my brow, and watch as a group of kids gather around Angel, who’s orchestrating an impromptu water balloon fight near the garden. Her laugh carries across the yard, mingling with the shrieks and splashes, and I can’t help but smile. She’s in her element, and it’s something to see—like she was made for this, for turning chaos into something beautiful.
Beyond the laughter and playful battles, the renovations have really taken shape. The new barn is up, shining with fresh paint and bustling with kids learning about animal care. We’ve got a couple of horses now, a dream come true for many of the kids, and a new trail that winds through the back of the property for riding.
I make my way over to the vegetable patches we’ve expanded, the scent of fresh earth and growing things potent under the sun. The kids have their own plots to tend to, and it’s a messy, joyous kind of learning—mud pies meet science project. I pause to help a small group identify the young shoots sprouting up, their eagerness matching the vibrant greens pushing through the soil.
As I stand there, surrounded by the fruits of so many labors, I can’t shake the feeling of deep, unwavering contentment. The ranch isn’t just a place of refuge or growth anymore; it’s a thriving community, a family extending beyond what I’d imagined when I first stepped into this role.
I tighten the stakes around the tomato plants and catch sight of Angel across the yard, her hands deep in paint as she helps a group of kids decorate birdhouses. Watching her, something inside me swells—a mix of admiration, deep affection, and a warmth that roots right down to my bones.
It’s more than just love; it’s a profound appreciation for the woman she is and everything she does. She’s got this way of turning every little task into something meaningful, herlaughter and energy drawing everyone in. And when she looks up, her eyes meeting mine across the distance, my heart doesn’t just beat, it sings. There’s a lightness in her smile now that does more than brighten her face—it lights up my whole world.
