Page 37 of The Parent Playbook
Around us, the usual ranch chaos is subtly orchestrated into showcase vignettes for the media. Kids are enthusiastically involved in an impromptu petting zoo session. They hand feed the goats and introduce bashful reporters to our resident rabbits, offering snippets of knowledge like little professors.
“Goats prefer to nibble on this because it’s sweet,” one precocious youngster explains, holding up a piece of apple to a bemused journalist who’s clearly more accustomed to political scandals than agricultural trivia.
“I mean, look at this,” a reporter nearby speaks into her microphone as she gestures broadly at the scene. “This place isn’t just a charity, it’s a lifeline. Zach Hart isn’t throwing money around at anything that sticks, instead he’s planting seeds for thefuture.” Her colleague nods, his lens focused on a group of children painting a mural.
Zach himself is in his element, weaving through the crowd, his presence somewhere between celebrity and philanthropist. He pauses to chat with a little girl about her drawing, his smile genuine enough that I can almost forget my usual skepticism. Almost.
Despite the cameras, there’s a buzz that even my hardened heart can’t ignore. Happy Horizons is under the spotlight, and it’s my turn to face the cluster of mics heading this way, ready to spin our story into the evening news.
As a camera points squarely in my direction, the butterflies in my stomach do a nervous dance. I’m clutching my notes to save me from the dreaded empty brain, but they might as well be written in ancient Greek for all the good they’re doing me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Scotty behind the cameraman, but he’s not pulling faces this time. Instead, he gives me a thumbs up.
“Ms. Davis, what will this increased funding allow you to do here at Happy Horizons?” asks the reporter, her camera-ready smile wide as she motions expansively toward the bustling activities around the ranch.
Scotty gives me a look like I’ve got this all in the bag.Fake it ’til you make it …
“This funding would be transformative. If the Ice Breakers win, we will be able to expand our programs across the entire county.” I hear my own voice growing more confident with each word. “We’re building bridges here. For many kids and families, these programs are their only chance at creating a positive environment for their children—offering education, recreation, and support in a safe environment. For example, we’ve got a wonderful partnership with Falling for Books in town. Our monthly book box from them arrived yesterday, and if you set your cameras over there, you’ll see the kids—the ones who otherfolks have written off—poring over stories and getting inspiration for their future.” I give a silent thanks to Emmy Roberts who has never let us down. It was her idea to do these book boxes, and it gives kids the perfect down time after an active morning.
Scotty is still watching, arms crossed and head tilted like he’s taking in every word.
“With the initial investment from Zach Hart, we can at least double our outreach.” I glance over to see Zach Hart looking as happy as a pig in mud. “And if the Ice Breakers win, we can introduce mobile units that go to where the kids are, ensuring no child is left out. It’s about accessibility and equality, ensuring every child has the chance to enjoy being a kid, to learn and grow without worry.”
The reporter nods, scribbling notes vigorously.
I continue, inspired by the topic and Scotty’s unwavering gaze. “For example, today’s media exposure isn’t only about raising funds, but about raising awareness. It’s showing that what we do matters, that these kids matter. And if someone out there feels moved enough to make a donation, we’re here to show how much good it really can do.”
“Thank you so much, Ms. Davis. That’s amazing, on so many fronts.”
As the interview wraps up, Scotty walks around the edge of the camera’s view, leaning back to avoid ending up in the shot.
“You nailed it,” he whispers as the crew moves on, his hand briefly touching my back.
As the last reporter packs away her microphone, Zach Hart strides over, his presence as big as ever amidst the dispersing crowd. He claps me on the shoulder, a broad smile stretching across his face.
“Angel, that was outstanding,” he beams, his gaze sweeping over the ranch with clear approval. “What you’ve accomplished here is more than impressive. It’s vital.”
I nod, trying to mask the pride his words bring. Zach’s praiseisn’t fluff; it’s the pinnacle of years of hard work and heart poured into every corner of Happy Horizons.
He then turns slightly, catching Scotty’s eye with a conspiratorial wink. “And I see you’ve got top-notch support.” His tone is light, teasing almost, and it’s clear he’s not talking about the ranch work.
Scotty plays along, grinning back with a casual shrug. As Zach walks away, leaving Scotty and me behind, I’m leftagainwith a fluttery sensation in my stomach.
Except this time I’m riding too much of a high to remember that I don’t like this feeling.
“Did I do it?” I ask Scotty, who looks almost as excited as I am. “Did I really do it?”
“Yeah, you did!” He reaches for me, his strong arms pulling me into a whirl of motion as he spins me around in a celebratory hug that lifts my feet off the ground.
“I did it,” I whisper, and my lips touch the edge of his ear. The rush of air, the strength of his grip, his stubbled cheek against mine, I’m laughing and breathless. But as he sets me down, the laughter fades into a charged silence. Our eyes lock, and for a heartbeat, it feels like the entire world narrows down to just the two of us. His face is closer than I expected, and unexpectedly, our lips brush.
Tender, fleeting, and electrifying.
The romantic tension crackles between us, a tangible force that pulls us closer. I can see the surprise mirrored in his eyes, like my own racing thoughts.
Is this really happening? It’s not a dream?
The crunch of gravel cuts through our bubble.
