“I’ve always wanted a cat,” she says. “Or better yet, two cats. There’s a bonded pair who came into the animal shelter last week.”
I sigh, pretending to resigned to my fate, when the truth is I couldn’t be happier that this is my life now. “So we’regonna have two dogs and two cats. What’s next, a couple of horses?”
She grins up at me, eyes sparkling. “Of course. But I was also thinking… if you want enough kids to fill a hockey roster, we’d better get started. You’re not getting any younger. “
I laugh, then tip her chin up towards me for a soft, deep kiss. “In that case, baby, we’re getting started the second we get home.”
Attachment is the root of all suffering—I spent more than a decade believing that. Organizing my entire life around it. Moving on before anything could take root, before anything could grow and therefore be cut down.
Standing here, I realize I got it all wrong. Those words weren’t an argument against love. They were an argument against desperately holding on, against trying to stop things from changing.
I’m not afraid of attachment anymore. Not afraid of changing. Not afraid of putting down roots.
Because roots are also what hold you in the ground when the storm comes. Roots are what nourish you. Roots are what connect you to everything else and make it possible to grow. To bear fruit.
The fruit of my mother’s love is all around us. It’s the family she built and the kids she raised and the place she loved for half her life. She’s gone but her roots are still here, still holding, still feeding everything that grows out of them.
Now it’s time for my wife and I to put down roots too. To add a few branches of our own to the family tree.
Luckily, there’s no better dirt to plant those seeds than here at Wild Rose. Our heartland.
Epilogue
SLADE
“Close your eyes,” I tell my wife.
Lila obliges, a small smile curving her lips as I put a black bandana over her eyes.
“Ooh,” she says. “Is this a new sex thing? Are you going to play the villainous train robber, and I’m the innocent maiden you kidnap to be your plaything?”
“No, but now that you mention it, we’re coming back to that plan,” I say. I kiss her, sliding my tongue against hers. She tastes like cinnamon and sugar. Like heaven. “That’s your creative genius at work right there. But for now, I need you to just follow me.”
Lucky and Chance jump in the backseat of the truck. The entire truck shakes with their movement. Chance might have been the runt of the litter, but he’s turned into a damn giant, even bigger than his mama.
I roll down the windows for them so they can stick their heads out and enjoy the journey. It’s not a long car ride, but itfeels like an eternity as we head down the highway. This plan has been a long time in the making. As a freshly-retired hockey player, I’ve had a lot of time on my hands, and I’ve been using it.
It’s felt strange having to keep this a secret from Lila, to tell her only half the story of what I’ve been doing with my time, but I know she likes surprises, and this will be a big one.
When we arrive at our destination, I carefully lead her out of my truck.
The sound of multiple, happy, excited barking dogs fills the air. Chance bounds out ahead of us to greet his friends while Lucky stays close to our side.
Beneath the bandana, Lila’s brow furrows.
I press a kiss to her cheek before I untie it and put the bandana in my back pocket. “Happy one year anniversary.”
Lila blinks against the sudden sunlight. And then she takes it all in. The brand-new buildings dotted across the plains. The big, fenced open spaces. The dozen or so dogs, happy and playing or relaxing, milling about the property. There are some horses too, and even a pot-bellied pig with one eye, along with her piglet.
“Slade,” she says, “what is this place?”
“This is the Lucky Chance Animal Sanctuary,” I tell her. “We take in animals with special needs. Neurological or orthopedic issues. Blind, deaf, deaf-and-blind. Dogs with three legs.” I glance down at Lucky. “We know a little something about those.”
Her laugh comes out watery.
“We’ve got horses and goats too,” I continue. “That one-eyed pig over there came from a farm that was shutting down. Her piglet was born here last month. In that building to your right, we’ve got our cats and bunnies.”
Lila is looking around at all of it with her hand still over her mouth.
