Epilogue
Ryder -- One Year Later
“I t’s hard to believe how fast the year has gone by. It feels like yesterday that I was experiencing my first event. Here we are, doing it all over again.” I struggle to lift one of the heavy boxes off the back of the truck, and my muscles bulge and strain under the weight as a result. “What’s in these things? Bowling balls?”
Milo grabs an identical box with such ease that I begin to wonder if I’m being pranked. He’s not even breaking a sweat as he says, “Did you know that bowling balls that weigh 12 pounds or less will float in water?”
“I didn’t, but my life is complete now that I have that knowledge,” I say sarcastically.
Milo bobs his head in agreement, taking my comment as fact instead of the witty banter I intended. “Knowledge is power.”
Once we’re inside the building, I set the box down and use a safety cutter to open it. As I unpack the contents, I sigh. “It may as well have been bowling balls. There have to be close to a hundred bean bags inside!”
Having played cornhole plenty of times, I know that each bag weighs about a pound. I lean over and peer into the box Milo is opening, wondering if it’s full of cotton balls. He hefted it far too easily. Nope. His box has identical contents to mine. For such a lanky guy, he’s surprisingly strong.
“Cornhole for a Cause surprised us by donating 25 cornhole sets designed with the Play It Forward logo. Five of them are for the Center to keep, but the rest are to give away as door prizes for the event,” Milo says, his smile firmly fixed in place as always. I once asked Blake if Milo gets Botox injections to keep his smile permanently, but she only laughed it off and said, “Milo is genuinely a happy guy. I don’t think he knows how to frown.”
“Ace had to be the one who packed these boxes,” I grumble. As the owner of a gym in Baggersville called Ace Lift, he and I have had quite a few friendly bench-press competitions over the past year. Sadly, to say, I have yet to win, and this is likely a subtle attempt to rub it in my face. That’s when a brilliant idea hits me.
“Milo, you remember Ace, right?”
“I remember everybody, Ryder.” He taps his head. “My brain is Fort Knox. Did you know that Fort Knox….”
I hold my hands up to stop him from spouting another random fact that will only cause me to lose a penguin off my mental iceberg. My brain can only retain so much before information gets replaced with useless knowledge. “Instead of demoing cornhole this year, he’s going to set up a portable gym and discuss the benefits of physical fitness. Why don’t the two of you have a bench-press competition? You can show those kids firsthand that mental strength is as important as physical strength.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea!” Milo beams proudly.
Trevor rushes into the room, having grown an inch over the past 12 months. He’s now just over five and a half feet tall and was chosen to play the position of point guard for the varsity team as a sophomore. It’s quite an accomplishment, and I couldn’t be more proud of him.
“Milo, Louise needs your help! The Xerox machine stopped working, and she can’t finish printing out the brochures to hand out!”
Milo unzips the pack attached to his waist and removes a small tool kit. “Copy that! It’s time to ink outside the box!” He laughs at his own joke as he follows Trevor down the hall. “Trevor, did I ever tell you about the time I got stuck in a freezer…?”
So much for Milo having a memory like Fort Knox. I’ve just finished offloading the rest of the cornhole items that my friends have sent, when Blake magically appears to brighten my day.
I glance around the room to ensure we’re alone before stealing a not-so-quick kiss. I guess it’s not really stealing if she gives as good as she gets.
“I’m sorry about the news,” she says as she steps out of my embrace. She sits on one of the boxes I haven’t unpacked yet and peers at me with sympathy.
I shrug. “It was my first year in the Cup Series, and if I keep improving, I’ll make the playoffs next year. At least I can say that I ended last year in the top three for Xfinity.” There are still three more races left in the qualifying season, but I’d have to win all three to make the 16 th spot for the playoffs. While not impossible, it’s unrealistic. However, that isn’t going to stop me from trying. “Did your deal go through?”
At this, Blake’s face lights up. “Yes! Morrison Motors will now use Wheelie Good Tires on all its vehicles beginning in January. It’s a huge boon for WGT, and for Morrison Motors. The news of the deal released only a few hours ago, and stocks have already begun to climb for both companies.”
Blake and I have discussed her future with Morrison Motors now that Randall is really trying to be the father to them that he promised he would be. It hasn’t been a smooth ride, but the family is working things out and finding their new norm. Blake agreed that down the road, she would assume her role as head of the company since her dream is to have Teague alongside her. As of now, neither of them are ready to do so. Ten years from now, maybe.
I lock the door to the storage room and stalk over to the woman who owns every piece of my heart. Sliding my hand around her neck, I bring her mouth to mine. I savor and sip on her lips until I’m punch-drunk with love. Blake consumes my thoughts as I imbibe in her every exhale.
“Ryder,” she whispers. “What has gotten into you?”
“I’m committed to the checkered flag, and I’m one lap from the finish line. I just wanted a sample of the sweet taste of victory.”
She laughs as she pushes me away. “Like Soup always says, ‘Celebrate after you win.’”
For the first time in a long time, I want to ignore Soup’s advice. When I lean in to kiss Blake once more, there’s a loud pounding on the door.
“Ryder, are you in there?” Trevor asks frantically.
I whisper to Blake as I nip her ear. “Is this what having kids will be like? Always getting interrupted at the most inopportune moments?”
Before she can answer, Trevor bangs on the door again. “If you’re in there, grab a pair of scissors! Milo’s hair is stuck in the copy machine and Louise is freaking out.”
With the event in full swing, the new karting track is packed with racers as if it’s a Grand Prix. Teague has been volunteering with Play It Forward for the past several months, and he, along with Mina and several other volunteers, are manning the line of people waiting to race. This gives me at least an hour with Blake to walk around and enjoy the festivities.
“I’m sorry your father couldn’t be here,” I say as we take a few minutes to watch a pick-up game featuring several professional basketball players and at least a dozen kids. Baseball players assist at the batting cage, throwing balls back and forth with the children or teaching different types of pitching techniques. There are also flag football, volleyball, tennis, and badminton being played. Yes, I said it—badminton. I recently learned that Blake hadn’t been kidding when she said it was an Olympic sport.
“He wanted to be, but there was an emergency at the Seattle location he had to attend to.”
Blake and I wave to The Beanbaggers as we pass by the cornhole area, but the real show is about to start when I notice Milo standing near Ace’s portable gym set-up. Sweet Milo looks just as enthralled with the demonstration as the kids.
I drag Blake over to the exhibit and ask Ace, “Are you up for a bit of healthy competition?”
“Sure, bring it on, Ryder,” he retorts. Ace smirks because he has always beaten me, as he should. As an Army Ranger, he has had to push past his limits to achieve mission success.
“Oh, no! Not me!” I point toward Milo, whose hair is standing up on end. Once I lobbed off a few chunks that were wrapped up in the gears of the copier, I recommended he go to a barber to get it evened out. As busy as he is, I guess he didn’t find the time to do what I had suggested. At the moment, he looks like he’s stuck his finger in a light socket. It must have been worth it, because the copy machine works like a charm.
Blake snickers. “Ace is in for a rude awakening.”
I chuckle. “Yep.”
Fifteen minutes into the competition, Ace exerts himself as he barely manages to bench 400 pounds. Sweat drips from his face as he completes his final rep and relies on his brother, Tim, to help lift the weight onto the rack. It’s an impressive feat because my personal record is 370 pounds. People clap for him, including Milo, who then takes Ace’s spot.
Milo removes an antibacterial wipe and runs it across the bar before laying down and wrapping his fingers around it. “One can never be too careful. How many reps are we doing again?”
“Three,” Ace says.
“Three it is.” Milo waits for Tim to stand behind him for safety, although he doesn’t need it. He lifts the bar off the rack and proceeds to do three reps without so much as a huff or sign of fatigue. “Shall we go to 425?”
Ace shakes his head in defeat but smiles warmly at the lanky man with a heart the size of Texas. “That’s not necessary. I concede.”
Milo turns toward the kids who were watching in awe. “As Ace and I have both shown you all, the mind is like a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger and more powerful it becomes. When your body feels like it’s about to give out, it’s your mind and your heart that push you further than you thought possible.”
I wave to Ace as Blake and I turn to leave, his gaze warning me that there will be retribution the next time we’re in the gym together. I laugh. It will be well worth it.
As Blake and I walk hand in hand, she says, “I’m happy that your father is enjoying his job and that he decided to stick around.”
Six months ago, when my father was released from prison, I feared he had no place to go. With Blake’s urging, I offered him my spare bedroom until he figured out what the next step was for his life. He declined because my Aunt Mabel’s husband, Wendall, had a small house that was unoccupied after he moved in with his wife. My dad has been living in Baggersville ever since and now works in construction for Farrin Enterprises.
“He’s happy, keeping his head down while he works hard and stays out of trouble. He’s still on parole for another year and a half. He wanted to be here but felt that his presence would make people uncomfortable.” Simon has been attending church every Sunday and speaking with Pastor Dale regularly. “He’s in a good place. I just pray that it lasts.”
“Me, too. I like your dad. It’s hard to imagine he was ever the leader of a biker gang,” Blake says with tender affection. “Even my dad seems to like him, which is saying something. I thought for sure he would refuse to let Simon enter his home.”
“Once they started talking about cars, it was game over,” I tease.
I gently caress Blake’s lips with my own for a brief moment before asking her to follow me. “Come race with me.”
She giggles as we near the new karting track and Teague flags everyone in so that the both of us can take a few laps without endangering anyone else with our antics. Two cars, one with the number 67 emblazoned on the side and one with the number 12, wait for us, primed and ready to go.
Teague waves a green flag to begin the race, and just like when we first met, Blake doesn’t take any prisoners and presses the gas pedal to the floor. People cheer and clap as we cut one another off at every turn, with competition and rivalry between us still very much in full force. After four laps, neck and neck, we eventually cross the finish line side by side. I help her out of the car, both of us grinning like fools.
As I drop to one knee, the cheers fade into silence one by one until only the soft breeze whistling through the leaves remains, accompanied by a few murmurs of excitement.
Blake gasps when she realizes what’s happening. “Yes!” she says, bouncing up and down.
I laugh at her enthusiasm. “I haven’t asked the question, yet.”
“Hurry up! I can’t wait to be Mrs. Ryder Stone!”
I smile because I’m ready to slip the ring on her finger right now and go to the local courthouse to make it official, but I prepared a speech, and I plan on giving it.
“I knew years ago when I first saw your picture that I’d fall head over heels in love with you if we were to ever meet. Your twinkling eyes and quirky smile were endearing.”
Teague coughs. “His exact words were, ‘Your sister is hot!’”
My cheeks heat and turn a bright shade of pink. “I did say that, and I still think it’s true to this day. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Even when we’re old, wrinkly, and our heads full of gray hair, I’ll still think that. I hope you’ll think that about me when I’m wearing socks with a pair of sandals.”
People around us snicker, but I hear Milo whisper to someone, “I don’t get it. What’s wrong with that?”
My shoulders begin to shake with silent laughter, but I quickly compose myself. “Blake, we were once rivals on the track, but now we’re on the same team. You have always pushed me to be my best self from the moment I crashed into you.”
“Which time?” she teases.
“Uh, when I bumped into you outside of Play It Forward and your coffee spilled. It was you who crashed into me on the raceway.”
We both know it’s true, but we enjoy arguing about it for fun. “For someone who wants me to hurry, you keep interrupting me. Now, where was I?”
“Sorry. You were saying something about rivals, crashes, and your best self,” she quips.
“Right. We were once rivals, and now we’re more. We’re a team on the speedways, but I want to expand our partnership and become a team for the rest of our lives. Will you, Blake Regina Morrison, become my partner in life and be my wife?”
When I say her full name out loud, the light dawns, and it all makes sense. “Reggie is short for Regina! How did I not put two and two together?”
Trevor nudges Mina and smirks. “Now you know why I only got a B in math.”
Blake extends her left hand and wiggles her fingers, silently hinting that her ring finger is in desperate need of adornment. “My answer is still very much a ‘Yes!’”
I slide on the heirloom that Mabel gave me for this very occasion. It’s not ostentatious, but then, neither is Blake. Despite her wealth and family connections, she prefers the simple things in life. The ring has been in my family for six generations and was meant to be passed down to my great-great-grandmother, Ethel. Instead, Mabel received the jewelry since Ethel had runaway to marry my great-great grandpa. My aunt believed it was rightfully mine and had no problems parting with the ring.
As soon as I’m on my feet, Blake jumps into my arms and kisses me the way I hope she’ll kiss me for eternity.
As the crowd around us cheers for love, Milo claps the loudest.
“Did you know that the term ‘happy ending’ first originated in the Middle Ages? And here we are today, getting to witness one for ourselves.”
THE END