Page 34 of The Parent Playbook
The path through the festival curves by booths offering everything from hand-carved wooden bowls to homemade jams, but I barely notice them. It’s like the whole world’s gone a bit blurry except for Angel. The sunlight plays in her hair, her slightly sardonic laugh mingles with the crisp air—man, it’s easy to get caught up in this dance of almost-touches.
Her hand brushes against my hand again, and this time her fingers tentatively curl into mine. It’s a quiet, bold move. I hold on a little tighter, enough to sayI’m right here with you, and she gives me a smile—it’s all the answer I need.
We stop at another cider stand, still hand in hand, acting like we’re all in on the vendor’s talk about apple blends. But let’s be real, it’s not the cider that’s got my heart picking up the pace.
It’s holding her hand, the way she’s leaning in close, how right it feels standing here with her, in the middle of all this festival noise, feeling like we’re discovering something new.
As the sun dips behind the horizon, a loudspeaker announces, “Get ready for the grand finale! The lantern releasewill take place in front of the pumpkin exhibition in twenty minutes.”
“Shall we lantern?” Angel asks, her fingers tickling the back of my hand.
“I didn’t know it was a verb, but I think we should.”
Folks gather around, clutching those paper lanterns like they’re precious treasures. It’s a clear night, the stars making their appearance like they’re curious about what’s going down here.
Angel and I find a spot on the grass, slightly away from the hustle, and a volunteer hands us a lantern.
“Ever done one of these before?” I ask, fumbling a bit with the lantern as we try to get a grip on it together.
“Nah, this is a first for me,” she replies, her hands steady compared to mine.
“We’re rookies then. Let’s hope we don’t set anything on fire …”
“If we do, the fire brigade is right over there, and looking in fine form.” She points to a crowd of clean-cut, muscled young men.
“Let’s avoid fire at all costs. I don’t want any calendar pin-ups interrupting us.”
Angel tilts her head to the side. “Scotty MacFarland, was that a note of jealousy in your voice?”
Um, yes, it was. Because I want you all to myself.
Heat crawls up my neck and I’m grateful for the darkness of night. “Jealous? Nah. I bet I could skate circles around those young bucks.”
Angel gives me a knowing look, like I’ve stepped into the stereotypical shoes of every man reaching mid-life.
The crowd’s getting their lanterns lit, and then it’s our turn. The little flame flickers to life, casting an orange glow on Angel’s face. She’s all focus and soft smiles, her eyes fixed on our lantern. I can’t help but watch her, struck by how the simple light framesher face, throwing shadows that make this moment feel like magic.
“Ready to launch?” I nudge her gently.
“Let’s make a wish first,” she suggests. “It’s cheesy, sure, but isn’t everything about Maple Fest?”
“Not cheesy,” I whisper.
We lean in, and she closes her eyes first. My wish? More nights like this, more laughs, more getting to know every side of her.
When I open my eyes, she’s looking at me with crinkles beside her eyes. “Shall we?”
We release the lantern, and it hesitates like it’s not quite ready to leave. But then it catches the breeze and up it goes, joining the swarm of others, floating like dreams into the night sky. We watch in silence, only the whoosh of the lanterns rising into the darkness.
Her eyes, usually so full of spark and challenge, now shimmer with the lanterns’ glow, filled with wonder. It’s like seeing her for the first time all over again, and it knocks the wind out of me.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Her voice weaves the cool night air. All I know is that every light in the sky can’t hold a candle to the way she looks right now. I nod, words lost somewhere between my heart and my mouth.
“Yeah, beautiful,” is all I manage, but I really mean the beauty of her eyes lit with the reflection of hundreds of lanterns. It’s not the lanterns having this effect, though—they’re just bits of paper and fire.
It’s her.
She’s the view I can’t look away from. As I stand here, stealing glances while the world lights up around us, I realize this might be one of the best evenings of my life.
