Epilogue
Cade
I had bought the ring before I found out about the Philippines.
I had been carrying it in my jacket pocket for a week, trying to plan the most special way to propose to Maple.
Then my assistant called about Manila. I thought about proposing to Maple and then getting on a fourteen-hour flight, and I decided that was not how this was going to go.
When she said yes — if she said yes — I wanted to be there for all of it.
Every minute of it. I wouldn’t be boarding a plane during the best time of my life. So I put the ring in my carry-on.
I kept it in my pocket and took it everywhere in the Philippines.
To meetings and site visits and to location scouting on remote islands.
Every time my hand found the box, I thought about what was waiting for me when I got back.
The life that was on the other side of this trip.
What it would look like if she said yes.
The two weeks without Maple and River were the slowest two weeks I had ever lived through.
I’d talk to them and then immediately read Maple’s note over and over until I fell asleep.
The paper was soft from being opened so many times.
Dog-eared at the corners. I had read it so many times I had the words memorized, but I read them again anyway.
In my free time, I researched unique ways to propose to her.
I saw a resort on the edge of the sea one afternoon.
Dad and I had gone in for lunch. The sand was white and some portions of the beach were made private for honeymooners staying in the private cabanas.
I impulsively thought of taking the next flight back and sweeping Maple off to spend the weekend with me at that resort.
I thought about how special it would be to propose to her on a private cruise on the Pacific, or during a walk on a moonlit night on our private beach.
But none of those ideas were clicking. There was some important piece missing in this plan that I was not able to put my finger on.
It wasn’t until the next day that it all clicked in.
The part that was missing was family. Maple and River were already my family, and if I wanted to ask Maple if she wanted to make the family official, I had to do so by involving River.
That night, I called the community center and asked for River.
River had mentioned he’d be volunteering for the Christmas food drive. That was the best place to catch him without Maple around.
He picked up, confused. “Cade? Why are you calling here?”
“I need your blessing,” I said.
“Blessing?” A pause. “For what?”
“I want to propose to your sister,” I said. “I want to marry her, River. And I would love for the three of us to become a family officially. I wanted to ask for your permission first.”
“You want to marry my sister,” River said very seriously, after a brief silence. “And you called to ask for my permission.”
“Yes.”
Another silence. And then I heard it — the smile, coming through the phone before he said a single word.
“Of course you have my permission,” he said. His voice cracked on the last word. “I really like you, Cade.”
“Thanks, buddy,” I said. “That means the world to me.”
“So what’s the plan?” he asked.
“I’m glad you asked,” I said. “There’s one more thing.”
The day I landed, I discussed my plan with my parents. They had to be a big part of this, too.
A week later, I picked up Maple and River for Christmas dinner at my parents’ house.
Maple was wearing the forest green dress I had brought back from the Philippines and was looking smoking hot in it.
She kept fixing her hair in the visor mirror on the drive.
I looked at her and placed my hand over hers on the stick shift.
“They’ll love you.” I said. She smiled, but I could see she was still nervous.
But when we got there and my parents hugged her, Maple’s nervousness eased off slowly and by the time dessert was served we were laughing and talking as if my parents had known Maple and River their entire lives.
At the end of dessert, Mom asked — as discussed and rehearsed in advance — if Maple and River would like a tour of the house.
River said, as discussed and rehearsed in advance, that he’d see it some other time and wanted to play cards with Dad instead. I took Maple through the house, room by room. “There’s one more thing I want to show you,” I said.
That was River’s cue.
We went out through the back and down toward the barn, and around to the canopy my parents had set up for their annual Christmas party.
It was warm inside despite the December cold.
There were Christmas lights on every beam, and garlands on every surface.
The whole place was glowing and smelling like pine and cinnamon for the Sonnenberg Christmas party the next day.
Maple held my hand and walked slowly, looking at everything.
“This is so beautiful,” she said. “Your parents do this every year?”
“Every year,” I said.
“There’s one more thing I want you to see.”
That was River’s second cue. He was in the electrical room just a few feet from where Maple and I were standing.
And then right on cue, the lights went out.
Maple startled. Then the string lights came on — dim, warm, outlining the whole canopy in soft gold.
And in the center of it, on the main table, one arrangement of flowers glowing under a single light.
White roses, holly, amaryllis. And in the middle of the arrangement, a small velvet box.
Maple went very still. She looked at the table.
Then she looked at the ring. River came out from behind the electrical room door.
He was trying very hard to look casual and was not managing it at all.
He kept smiling the whole walk to Maple’s side.
I took the ring from the table. I turned to Maple. Her eyes were already bright.
I went down on one knee.
“Maple Brooks,” I said. “Will you please be my wife?”
She said yes before I had finished the sentence. She was crying before I stood up, and she cried so hard that I had to pull her into my chest as River cheered us on.
A few months later, River walked Maple down the aisle.
He walked her all the way to me, and then came and stood right next to me as my best man.
My parents were in the front row. My mother cried through the vows.
My father held her hand and looked at me the way he had that night at the dinner table when he said I never told you to choose money over love.
My parents had become extremely fond of Maple and River.
River became my dad’s card partner and together they beat us in every game on Friday game nights at my parents’.
A few weeks before the wedding, Maple, River and I had moved to our new home a few blocks away from my parent’s house.
It was a cute historical cottage, with a beautiful gazebo in the backyard overlooking Chestnut Lake.
The cottage had its own private dock with a boat ramp, which River and I started using right away to go fishing around the lake on weekends.
Maple and I discussed what to do with her old house, and we finally decided to donate the space to the Shineforth House as an Annex for their youth programs.
Then a couple of months later, in the summer, we had a backyard barbecue.
River had found a new love for music. He had formed a band with Brody and two other friends and they were playing what they called oldies.
Classic slow rock — More Than a Word by Extreme, To Be With You by Mr. Big, Dreams by Fleetwood Mac, Heaven by Bryan Adams.
And they were good.
River could sing, and when he did, even at home, Maple and I would just go still and listen.
He was the best little brother and son I could have imagined.
When the set finished, River came and dropped into the chair next to mine.
Brody sat across. They had both loaded their plates and were talking animatedly about the next set.
I looked at him across the table and felt proud in a way that I didn’t have words for.
He reached across for the ketchup. “Grandma,” he said, “can you pass the ketchup?” My mother’s hand stopped moving.
She looked at River. Then she looked at me.
Then at Maple. Her eyes were full and bright and she smiled and passed the ketchup without saying a word.
Maple reached up and quietly wiped her face.
I kissed her forehead and drew her close to me.
A few weeks ago, Maple and I had started talking about me becoming River’s legal guardian along with Maple.
I had been meaning to talk to River about it for some time but each time I thought of bringing it up, I’d buckle down out of fear that he would say no.
But when he so non-chalantly called Mom grandma, I realized it was time to bite the bullet.
So later that week, at dinner, I brought it up. Maple and I had talked about it many times over the previous weeks, the talk mostly involving Maple rehearsing my lines with me.
“So,” I said. “I was thinking.” I looked at Maple. She pressed my hand under the table with the look that said: you can do this.
“Actually, Maple and I were thinking.”
River looked up.
“I’d like you to think about something,” I said. “I’d like to become your legal guardian. Along with Maple. So we can officially be a family on paper too.”
River looked at me. “Aren’t we already?” he said.
“We are,” I said. “But I want it in writing. So we’re legally a family too.” He was quiet for a moment. “You’re already my dad,” he said. “My older brother and my best friend.” He shrugged. “So yes. I’d like to make it official.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Cade,” he said. “I’m sure.”
Maple smiled at me later that night in bed, when I was holding her and replaying the whole conversation. “Did I ask that question too soon?” I said.
“For River,” she said, “you’re already family. You’ve shown him through every action that you’re not going anywhere. The bond is already there, Cade. That piece of paper doesn’t change anything for him. He already has you.”
I pulled her closer. “I love you,” I said into her hair.
“I love you too, Cade.” She gave me a soft kiss and settled against my chest and I adjusted the blanket around her.
And when my wife fell asleep in my arms a few minutes later, I looked at her beautiful face in the quiet of our cottage.
What would my life have been if she hadn’t forgiven me?
I would still be meandering like a plastic bag blowing in the wind, directionless.
Maple had given me another chance at becoming the kind of person I wanted to become but didn’t know how to.
Maple’s life had been a struggle for most of her life, but now River and Maple were with me, and I was going to take care of both of them with all my heart, with all my love.
With Maple and River, I had found the greatest gift of all — a family, and I had learnt it the hard way that I had to carefully protect it at all times and never take anything for granted.
A few months later, I officially signed the papers to become River’s legal guardian.
And soon after that, Maple and I started trying for a baby.
River was more excited than I was when we found out we were pregnant, and he’d sent me links to all kinds of baby stuff and clothes, and banned his friends from coming over during the last month of the pregnancy because he wanted to give Maple some quiet and peace.
River and I painted the nursery a subtle shade of yellow, because we had chosen not to find out the gender of the baby, and he started accompanying my mother regularly to baby boutiques along the town centre.
In March of the following year, our daughter Brooklyn was born, and a year after that, came our baby boy Kai.
With his birth, Maple and I agreed that our family felt complete.
Sometimes I would be helping River with homework, or folding Kai’s tiny clothes, or holding Brooklyn’s hand on the dock while she took her first wobbly steps, and I would stop and think about how close I was to not having any of this in my life.
“Maple, thank you for taking a chance on me.” I said to my wife one night as we wrapped around each other.
“Thank you for trying as hard as you did.” Maple said, immediately knowing what I was talking about.
“I couldn’t have taken a chance on you if you hadn’t.
You’re an incredible husband, Cade. With you, all my wishes are answered. ”
“You’re the incredible one,” I said. “Without you I’d be nothing. I wouldn’t have River. I wouldn’t have Brooklyn and Kai. I owe my whole life to you, Maple.”
I kissed her.
After almost losing Maple and River and finding them back, I made sure that the rest of our life was built on trust and love for each other.
Together we learnt how to become better versions of ourselves and Maple and I were true partners in everything we did.
There were never any secrets or carelessly spoken words.
Love had found its way back into my life and there was no way I was going to take that for granted anymore. I had already won the love lottery and the family lottery and I was going to keep it cherished for the rest of my life.
***
THE END