Page 119 of York

The one I’d once mentioned wishing I’d been able to buy, but I’d been busy taking care of my sick grandfather and hadn’t gotten a chance.

“Baby,” I said, feeling more choked up than I’d anticipated.

“Happy Father’s Day,” she said, beaming at me.

“Happy Father’s Day!” Denali parroted.

Next to my daughter and the woman I loved, it was the greatest gift I’d ever been given.

Runa - 3 years

It was my turn for a surprise trip.

We were back up in New York, but not to the cabin—where we’d spent two long weeks the year before, roughing it in the woods. And by “roughing it,” I meant we had a fully stocked fridge, solar power, septic, and well water. I’d secretly added all those things to the cabin to make it functional for our family. We spent our days wandering through the woods, making wildflower crowns, playing in the water, having picnics, and just enjoying being so unconnected.

We weren’t heading there, though.

Nor were we going to the hotel where we’d made Denali.

It didn’t click until we pulled into a full lot and I saw the lights, heard the music, the chimes, the screams, and the laughter.

We were at the fair where we’d met.

The nostalgia was so strong, I felt like crying as we walked around, getting funnel cakes, and talked about our life and how incredible it was that we were where we were all thanks to this sweet little town fair.

When we reached the games, York dropped my hand, dug into his pocket, produced quarters, then nodding toward the shooting game.

I took the coins and practically skipped over.

I laid down my money, picked up the gun, and aimed.

I suspected nothing.

Not even how easy it was for me to win.

Embarrassingly, I thought my aim had just gotten that much better, thanks to many hours at the range at the clubhouse.

I didn’t even suspect anything when a capybara was passed to me.

It wasn’t until I saw the ring on a chain around his neck that I finally understood.

When I turned, York was on his knee.

And there was never any question.

Of course we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.

York - 13 years

“I’m not ready for this,” I grumbled as Denali shoved another box into the backseat of her very safe SUV.

She was eighteen and a half (she no longer kept track of halves, but I found myself clinging to them). And she was on her way to college.

She grew up a lot like her mother—tall, lean, rich brown hair, a contagious smile. Unlike her mother, she was still as girly as you could get. Even gearing up for a several-day-long road trip, she was dressed in a flowing floral dress and heeled sandals.

“You have all the money in the world. Invent a time machine,” I demanded, looking at Runa. “Take us back to zoo trips and princesses. I can’t do this.”

“I think I blinked and she went from eight to eighteen.”