Chapter 47 Roots and Wings
The summer Lily turned twenty-five was the kind that felt like a deep breath after a long skate—refreshing, necessary, and full of quiet gratitude.
She had just finished her second pro season in Boston with the Fleet: thirty-eight points, a spot on the All-Rookie team, and a playoff run that ended one game short of the finals. The media called her “the next face of the league.” Her teammates called her “Captain in waiting.” But when the season wrapped, Lily did what she always did: flew home to Evergreen Hollow for as long as her off-season allowed.
The house welcomed her like it always had.
Everett—eighteen now, towering at six-three and committed to play D1 at Denver himself come fall—picked her up at the airport in Rowan’s old truck, grinning like a kid on Christmas. Clara (thirteen, fierce on defense for her travel team, already getting letters from scouts) rode shotgun, turning around to hug Lily the second she climbed in.
The drive home was full of overlapping stories: Everett’s state championship run, Clara’s hat trick in the spring league finals, the way Clara had started calling plays on the ice like she was born to it.
When they pulled into the driveway, Holly and Rowan were waiting on the porch—Holly with tears already shining, Rowan with the proud, quiet smile that hadn’t changed since Lily was six.
The hug lasted a long time.
Inside, the house smelled like pine from the early Christmas tree (a tradition they’d never broken) and the cinnamon rolls Holly had baked that morning. Clara dragged Lily straight to the backyard rink—still perfect from Rowan’s last flood before the heat set in—and demanded a one-on-one game.
They played until sweat soaked their shirts and laughter echoed off the trees. Everett refereed from the deck, calling imaginary penalties and narrating like an NHL announcer. Clara scored twice on fancy dekes; Lily let her, then stole the puck and scored a gentle backhand just to hear Clara’s triumphant yell.
Later, over dinner on the patio—burgers from the grill, corn on the cob, Clara’s favorite mac and cheese—Lily looked around the table and felt her heart swell.
Everett was telling a story about his senior prom, complete with dramatic reenactments. Clara interrupted constantly with “and then I said…” Holly laughed until tears came. Rowan watched them all with that same quiet pride, his hand resting on Holly’s knee under the table.
After the kids went inside for a movie, Lily stayed on the patio with her parents.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said softly, staring at the fireflies blinking over the grass. “About next season. And after.”
Rowan and Holly waited.
“There’s talk of national team camp this fall. And the Fleet wants to make me an alternate captain next year. It’s… a lot.”
Holly reached for her hand. “It’s everything you’ve worked for.”
Lily nodded, eyes misty. “But I keep thinking about home. About you guys. About how none of this would mean anything without this table, this backyard, this family.”
Rowan’s voice was rough. “You take us with you every time you step on the ice, Lil. We’re always there.”
She leaned her head on Holly’s shoulder. “I know. I just… I love you so much it hurts sometimes.”
Holly’s tears fell quietly. “We know, baby. We feel it too.”
The rest of summer unfolded in gentle, perfect moments.
Lily helped coach Clara’s summer skills camp, watching her little sister bark orders at ten-year-olds with the same fire she’d had at that age. She worked out with Everett in the mornings, pushing him through drills and laughing when he finally beat her in a sprint.
She and Holly spent afternoons redesigning Heartstrings Spark’s newest feature—a “legacy match” option for multi-generational families looking for love. They tested it on themselves first, laughing until they cried at the algorithm’s suggestion that Rowan and Holly were a 99% match.
One warm August evening, the family gathered for one last backyard skate before school started again. Rowan flooded the rink one final time, and they played until the stars came out: Lily and Clara against Rowan and Everett, no scorekeeping, just joy.
When the ice began to soften and the air cooled, they collapsed in the grass, breathless and happy.
Clara lay on her back staring at the sky. “I’m gonna play for Denver like Lily. Then Boston.”
Everett ruffled her hair. “You’ll be better than both of us.”
Lily pulled them both into a hug. “You’re already better. Because you have each other.”
Holly and Rowan watched from the deck, arms around each other, hearts full.
Later that night, after the kids were asleep, Lily found her parents in the kitchen sharing a quiet glass of wine.
She hugged them both, long and tight.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”
Holly’s eyes were wet. “Thank you for letting us watch you fly.”
Rowan’s voice cracked. “Roots and wings, kiddo. That’s all we ever wanted to give you.”
The next morning, Lily flew back to Boston for training camp. At the airport, the family hug lasted longer than usual—Everett’s arms strong around her, Clara’s face buried in her jersey, Holly and Rowan holding them all like they never wanted to let go.
As the plane lifted off, Lily looked out the window at the patchwork of Minnesota fields below and felt the gentle certainty settle in her chest.
She had roots deep in Evergreen Hollow—strong, loving, unbreakable.
And wings wide enough to carry her anywhere the ice called.
The season ahead would bring new challenges, new triumphs, new chapters.
But home would always be waiting—quiet, warm, and full of the family that had taught her how to skate, how to fall, how to get back up, and how to love with everything she had.
In the sky high above the clouds, Lily Kane smiled, heart racing with quiet, thrilling certainty.
The ice was calling.
And she was ready.