Epilogue 1
EPILOGUE 1
We’ve been one big happy family living at my house on Cornflower Cul-de-sac. I almost think Mr. and Mrs. Rice don’t want to move out. Down the line, we could finish off the space over the garage and make it into an in-law apartment.
All things considered, it’s been great. We eat dinner together when I’m able to be home. Plus, I get all the time I want with Heidi and Bunny.
Well, not as much alone time with my fiancée as I’d like.
Right now, she, her mom, and Bunny just returned from the party supply store for last-minute items for Bunny’s second birthday celebration.
I meet them in the driveway. She rushes at me full speed with a unicorn balloon that’s twice her size. It beats the air and bops her in the back of the head, but she doesn’t care, wearing the biggest smile on her face.
“Look, a unee-corn and she flies!” Bunny runs in a circle to show me.
I scoop her up and play airplane with her and the balloon as we head into the house. It’s helium-filled and if she were to let go of the string, it would be gone and we’d have a very sad Bunny on our hands.
Mrs. Rice and Heidi follow with a few bags while talking about plans for the birthday party. Heidi made the executive-mom decision to do Bunny’s birthday party on her actual birthday, which is today, a Tuesday, instead of waiting for next weekend.
“How many pizzas do you want me to order and have you heard back from the Reynolds yet?” I ask.
“Cassie texted to say Moira is sniffly so they’re going to skip.”
“That leaves us needing about ten, not that the Reynolds would eat an entire pizza themselves.”
“Have you seen Bryce lately? He grew an inch this month.”
A smile slides across my face as I realize how domestic we sound even though this is all so new.
Heidi catches my grin and one grows on her lips as if realizing the same thing.
“It’s not like you’ve never planned a party before,” Mrs. Rice says as if realizing what we’re both thinking.
We turn toward her, wearing identical expressions of confusion.
“Don’t you remember when Derek had chicken pox?” Mrs. Rice asks.
Mr. Rice enters the room and chuckles. “I sure do. He got mad at me for calling him ‘Spots.’”
Mrs. Rice says, “Back then, the conventional wisdom was to let all the kids in the house get chicken pox at the same time. Thankfully, Heidi only had three spots. Grady, you didn’t come down with it until about a week later.”
“I remember the oatmeal bath and that pink stuff.” And how Mrs. Rice took care of me when my mother didn’t. I wish I could find the words to thank her, but the memory comes back and I’m a bit choked up, especially now being on this side of things and having an adult understanding.
Getting to know Heidi as a single mom and then welcoming me into her and Bunny’s lives has been a game changer. I no longer resent my mother and am incredibly appreciative of the people who quietly stepped in to fill the gaps—the Rices, my hockey coaches, and Mrs. Murphy, my junior high school homeroom teacher. She used to teach home economics before she shifted to social studies and insisted I learn to cook by bribing me with cookies. Plus the Spaglietti’s who own the pizza shop where I worked before I was of a legal age. They let me fold boxes to start and then I worked my way up and learned the family marinara sauce secret.
Mrs. Rice continues, “Anyway, in between bouts of chicken pox was Derek’s birthday. He was miserable from the itch and having to postpone the bash. The two of you stepped in and made signs, decorations, and ice cream sundaes.”
Heidi smiles. “Now, I remember we added the last of my pink heart birthday cupcake sprinkles to the ice cream. It was all we had.”
“Derek hated that.” I laugh.
She shrugs. “Since I liked them, I figured he would.”
“This was around when Ed got his new video camera and you two made a video of yourselves jumping on the trampoline.”
Heidi looks at me. “We made a video together all those years ago? I don’t remember that part.”
“I didn’t either until now. I’ll see if I can find it. Might make good rehearsal dinner material.” Mrs. Rice winks.
“Derek must’ve hated that even more than the heart sprinkles.”
“Hated what?” he asks, sauntering into the room with Deborah .
We say hello and then Heidi relays his chicken pox birthday extravaganza.
He chuckles. “Yeah. I got worried I was going to lose my best friend to my bratty little sister who was too cute for her own good.”
Deborah says, “I find it hard to believe that Heidi was a brat.”
We all laugh.
“No, I promise. I was awful,” she replies.
Derek chuckles again. “Just wait until I give my speech as best man.”
Heidi pouts. “You will not embarrass me on my wedding day, Dork-ek,” she says, using what I thought was a retired nickname.
“Whatever you say, Hei-dork.”
Deborah turns to me and asks, “You put up with this and still stuck around?”
“You get used to it.” And I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
As the engagement ring on Heidi’s hand catches the light, the notion of Bunny having a brother someday bursts into my mind.
“We’d better get this show on the road,” Mr. Rice says, eyeing the bags of decorations.
Many hands make light work as we string up streamers, fill more balloons, and set up a unicorn headband craft station and a pin the horn on the unicorn game.
Heidi fills a bowl for the grownups with jellybeans.
“Aren’t those Easter only?”
She replies, “This is a unee-corn-themed party with a side of Easter because a mom can only do so much with a holiday and birthday nearly back to back.” Then she pops one in her mouth and says, “Also, jellybeans are my weakness. You’ve been warned. I only let myself have them once a year . . . and buy out the shelf at the market.”
Derek must overhear us and pipes, “And she’ll steal them out of your Easter basket. Bunny, be warned.”
“Mama eats my jellee-beebs,” she says in the cutest little voice.
“Still learning new things about my soon-to-be bride.” I kiss her temple, inhaling her spring rain and jellybean scent.
Later, everyone joins us for the party, including some of the team families, Aleeyah—Heidi’s friend from the Fish Bowl and her husband Booker I’m joining for poker night soon—and the Snoots. I mean the Schusters from a few doors down.
It’s a sparkle fest of yelling and giggling children, complete with a unicorn cake that has an upside-down ice cream cone for the horn and two candles on each side.
I get the honor of explaining to Bunny about making a wish before she blows them out. I’m not sure what she wishes for—probably a visit from a real unicorn.
But I don’t need wishes on candles. Wishes I didn’t even know I had have come true. I’m blessed beyond belief . . . until a dizzy kid during the pin the horn on the unicorn game gets confused and tries to stick it on my backside.
That was a rude awakening . . . and a reminder that Heidi and I have to get ready for the birthday grand finale.
We go to the TV and entertainment room and she sets up her phone to record.
“You really think Knights fans will enjoy this?”
“A defenseman getting into a plush two-person unicorn costume with his fiancée who they shipped, making us go viral? Yes, it’s a certainty.”
“Do you think I’m going to enjoy this?”
Heidi tips her head. “It was your idea. ”
“I was thinking you’d dress up in your intermission costume again …” I waggle my eyebrows suggestively.
Her cheeks turn rosy as she pulls the fuzzy pants up over her legs and attaches the suspenders, instructing me to do the same. They’re a bit snug which makes me worry about the proportions of the unicorn, given our height difference. Hadn’t factored that in.
She looks me up and down and chuckles. In these pants, I resemble half a stuffed animal who ate too many jelly beans.
“Plus, don’t you think things like this are more fun when we do them together?” she asks.
I glance at her half-unicorn get up and pull her into my arms. “Actually, definitely.”
We both laugh and don’t stop as we try to navigate putting on the unicorn body.
“How many Federers does it take to transform into a unicorn?” I joke.
She laughs again. “You’re pulling it down too much in the front.”
“We need to get you stilts.”
“Or you could duck walk.”
More laughter ensues as we try to figure it out, but there’s no point. Bunny’s unee-corn is going to be a little lopsided, and that’s okay.
Heidi texts Cara to open the door for us and to start filming as we emerge, bumping into everything in our path as we head outside to the backyard.
“You guys have to stop laughing,” she whispers when we near the French doors.
Heidi snorts which sends me into another fit.
“Okay, okay,” she says. “I’m pulling it together.”
The door opens and mystical music plays. It’s dusk and the LED lights come on—I’d set them to purple. Derek operates a smoke machine.
In a hockey announcer’s voice, Mr. Rice says, “It’s Bunny’s special day and something magical is on the way.”
Mrs. Rice crouches down next to Bunny and points in our direction.
The kids get quiet as Heidi and I stagger and stumble onto the deck.
I whisper. “We probably should have gone through the house and come around from the front.”
“She’s two, she’s not critiquing us,” Heidi replies.
“Do unicorns make noises?” I ask.
“Like how horses neigh? I have no idea.”
I attempt a sound that reminds me a lot of Mr. Rice’s Dodge before he rebuilt the transmission.
Heidi and I share more stifled laughter as the kids gather around, petting the unicorn’s flanks. Bunny gets a ride, held carefully by her grandparents stationed on each side.
Derek must be nearby because he mutters, “I’m so glad this is all on film. It’s priceless.”
Deborah replies, “And you’d better believe if our kids believe there’s a Big Foot, you’ll be in costume lurking in the woods.”
“Is this really what I’m going to be in for?” he asks his wife.
“It really is.”
I’m certain Heidi hears the exchange and to her, I say, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She replies, “Thanks for being a team player.”
“As long as we’re on a team together, I’m in.”
After the kids play glow-in-the-dark tag and exhaust themselves, almost everyone disperses with their goodie bags we stayed up late last night assembling.
I spot Heidi talking with Sophia and the latter cajoling her daughter into what kind of birthday she wants. With Sophia’s merciless prompting, she’s throwing McAyla McKenzie a mermaid-themed party for her next party, featuring real mermaids. I’m not sure how she’ll come up with that, especially in a landlocked state.
Maybe we’ll be MC’s version of what the Rice family is for me. Just because the Schusters live in a nice home, doesn’t preclude them from causing problems for their children.
As they walk down the driveway, Heidi sticks her tongue out at Sophia’s back.
“Such a brat,” I say in a flirty voice.
“She’s the brat.”
“Are we going to be at war with them?”
“No. We host unicorns. It’s peaceful over here.”
I chuckle. “Just watch, one of our kids and one of hers will fall in love.”
Heidi’s eyes widen. “No!”
I shrug. “Murphy’s Law?”
“Who is this Murphy? I want to have a word with him.”
After we clean up and get a very happy Bunny to bed, snuggling her favorite unee-corn stuffed animal and a new one that is just about the same size as she is, we thank Mr. and Mrs. Rice and then say goodnight.
Heidi flops onto the couch. “I only get to do this sixteen more times.”
I lower down and take her feet into my lap, giving them a rub. “What do you mean?”
“She’s going to grow up.”
“Yeah, she will and we’ll treasure every moment along the way.”
She peers up at me. “I didn’t think I’d have a we .”
“You’ve got me and that’s not changing no matter how many jelly beans you eat or how bratty you are. ”
“Never?”
“They say never to say never, but I’m going to say it and repeat it and promise it.”
She snuggles up with me.
I shift so we’re a breath apart then say, “I will never stop loving you.”
“I’ll always love you.”
Our sleepy kiss gets interrupted by a beep from Heidi’s phone. Mine lights up next with notifications. It’s the unee-corn video of us from earlier.
“Did you already post it? How? When?”
“Like unicorns, moms have superpowers.” She laughs. “It was while Sophia was probing you about whether we’ve set a date for the wedding.”
“Is she invited?”
Heidi shrugs. “She’s the worst. That woman can turn an innocent question into an inquisition that makes me feel this big.” She pinches her fingers together.
“Does that mean we’re moving the date up?” I ask.
Heidi smiles. “You know me so well.”
“Let’s not make any reactionary decisions based on what the Snoots think.”
“Well, except for the fact that they’ll be vacationing in the Hamptons if we do it earlier. I guess Mr. Sophia’s parents have a place there.”
“Meaning she won’t be able to attend our big day.”
“I’d rather she not.”
“Then just don’t invite her,” I say simply.
“Easier said than done. She used to be my best friend. She’s our neighbor. There’s no escaping her.”
I squeeze Heidi’s shoulder and say, “But she doesn’t have this.” Then I point to the phone. “Or this.”
“No, she does not. ”
We both laugh and watch the video of us trying to put on the unicorn suit, more or less playing bumper cars as we crashed our way through the kitchen, and then paraded around outside.
The voiceover says, “When you fall in love with the right person, magic happens.”
It’s very, very true and I have a whole new appreciation for what it means to win—it’s not just about the game anymore.