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The first time Cory Matthews heard Farkle Minkus say that he loved Cory’s daughter, Cory was twenty seven, and his daughter was six. It was cute, the way Farkle doted on Riley and Maya. If you’d told Cory eight years ago that his daughter was going to become best friends with Stuart Minkus’s son, he wouldn’t have believed you, but now that he saw it in front of him, he couldn’t picture it any other way. That particular day, a brisk November afternoon, the kids were playing in the park. Cory watched as Farkle gave both girls ring pops and said confidently, “They’ll be real someday.”
Maya rolled her eyes, but ate the ring in a matter of seconds, biting down on the candy until it shattered in her mouth and stained her teeth red. Riley licked hers slowly, like she always did with lollipops.
“Thank you, Farkle,” she said with that bright smile of hers.
“Of course, Riley,” Farkle returned her grin, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I love you both, remember?”
Riley nodded. “I remember,” she giggled, “I’ll never forget it.” And then she took him by the arm and pulled him toward the swings. “I bet I can swing higher than you!”
The corners of Cory’s lips pulled up into their own smile as he watched the kids laugh and play. He loved them all, even if only one of them was his own kid. He knew that Farkle’s parents weren’t home a lot of the time, and when he looked at Maya he saw Shawn Hunter in her eyes, and how could he not love someone who reminded him so much of his best friend?
He watched Riley and Farkle swing higher and higher, as Maya tried to judge who was going the highest. History, it seemed, really did repeat itself.
The first time Cory took it seriously when Farkle said he loved Riley, it was two years later. Cory had an eighteen month old son now, and his daughter was in the hospital, getting her tonsils out. It was a stressful day, but they had Mrs. Svorski watching Auggie, and it was a routine procedure. He knew he was just being an overprotective parent. He and Topanga both wanted to be there when Riley woke up from surgery, and they weren’t the only ones. Maya was there, of course, leg bouncing furiously, betraying the anxiety she didn’t wear on her face. And then there was Farkle, holding two stuffed, pink hippos.
“Farkle,” Cory shifted in his seat to look at the boy. “Why do you have two hippos?”
“They’re for Riley,” Farkle said simply, as if that was enough explanation.
“But why two of them?” Last Cory checked, Riley was only one person.
Farkle shrugged. “In case she loses one of them.”
Now that made sense to Cory. For an eight year old, Farkle really thought things through. He didn’t get a chance to say anything though, as that was when the doctor came to say that Riley was out of surgery, and that if they wanted, they could wait by her bed in the recovery room. As they walked, Farkle slid one shoulder out of his backpack, and shoved one of the hippos inside.
An hour later, Cory watched Farkle give Riley one of the pink hippos. “Her name’s Hazel the Hippo. She can keep you company until you’re well enough to come to school again.” Farkle placed the plush toy on Riley’s lap, and she immediately scooped it up into her arms and squeezed it tight.
“Thank you,” Riley said, her voice hoarse. “I love her.”
“Don’t speak too much, Riley,” Topanga scolded.
Riley frowned, but heeded her mother’s words, and didn’t speak again, instead, she looked up at Farkle with her big doe eyes that she used whenever she wanted something from Cory—and it always worked—and Farkle grinned.
“You’re welcome, Riley,” he said, “I love you.”
Riley’s face split into a grin to match her friend’s.
Three weeks later, Riley lost Hazel the Hippo, and Cory overheard her telling Maya not to tell Farkle, for fear of hurting his feelings. He thought back to the second hippo Farkle had bought, “in case she loses one of them,” and smiled to himself. It seemed Farkle Minkus knew his daughter better than he did.
When Riley turned ten, her birthday was space themed. Well. Space-princess themed. The apartment was decorated in a mix of stars and tiaras, and to anyone else it might’ve seemed a little ridiculous. But with Riley in the middle of it all, it just felt right. She was dressed like a tiny Princess Leia, complete with the cinnamon buns—it wasn’t a costume party, but Riley was Riley.
It was a nice party, full of friends and laughter and happiness. Even Auggie was having a good time, and he was only four. Of course, Riley spent most of the afternoon with one arm around Maya and the other around Farkle. Maya was wearing a plastic tiara, which she pretended to hate, but tolerate for Riley, though Cory had a feeling she liked it more than she let on.
Farkle seemed to be radiating joy. “Hey, Princess Leia,” he said, still laughing at the last thing Maya had said.
“Yeah?” Riley asked.
“Don’tcha think you need a Han Solo?” He gestured to himself.
Maya snorted before Riley could respond. “You’re no Han Solo, Farkle. You’re more like baby Anakin Skywalker.”
“Gee,” Farkle crossed his arms, “Thanks.”
Cory chuckled and turned to Topanga, who was pressing ten candles into the center of the chocolate sheet cake that Cory had picked up earlier, with the purple “Happy Birthday, Riley!” iced on top and the silver sugar stars pressed into the buttercream frosting. “What do you make of them?”
Topanga furrowed her brow. “What do I make of whom?”
“Princess Leia and not-Han Solo over there,” Cory nodded towards his daughter and her two best friends.
“I think they’re friends,” Topanga pressed in the last candle. “I think they’re ten years old, Cory.”
“C’mon, you have to have noticed.” Cory gestured emphatically, but Topanga just rolled her eyes. “Don’t they remind you of us when we were kids?”
Topanga raised a skeptical eyebrow, hand on her hip. “You really think my daughter is going to end up with a Minkus?”
Cory shook his head. “Topanga, you love Farkle, and besides, I never said anything about them ending up together.”
Topanga gave him a look that he knew all too well.
“Alright,” he put his hands up. “I was thinking it. You caught me.”
The look melted into a smile. “You’re a sap.”
“Hey, I was right about us, wasn’t I?” He put an arm around Topanga and pulled her in close. “We’re together forever.”
Topanga rolled her eyes. “Feel like putting your money where your mouth is?”
Cory raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”
“50 bucks says that Riley doesn’t end up with Baby Minkus.”
Now it was Cory’s turn to roll his eyes at his wife. He knew that any bet against Topanga was a fool’s game, but he had a good feeling about this one. “You’re on.”
Cory thought for sure he was going to lose the bet with Topanga when Riley was twelve and a boy from Texas waltzed into their lives.
Lucas was kind and caring and handsome and Riley was blatantly smitten with him right from the beginning, but Cory knew from day one that he was more than the Huckleberry that Maya saw him as. He gave Lucas a chance to grow and change, because well. That was the secret of life, wasn’t it? People change people. And people did change people. Lucas changed, and he became embedded in the fabric of Riley’s life, which meant he was a part of Cory’s as well, whether he liked it or not.
Truthfully, Cory liked Lucas. He seemed like a good kid. But Lucas was still trouble. He nearly split Riley and Maya apart with the triangle, and that scared Cory. He knew Riley needed Maya as much as he needed Shawn growing up, and vice versa. Luckily, the girls’ friendship proved strong, even when Maya ended up pushing Lucas towards Riley. It was probably the only way things could’ve ended, but it definitely wasn’t painless. Riley and Lucas were never meant to be, anyone could’ve told you that, but they had to learn it the hard way.
They crashed and burned the summer between their freshman and sophomore years of high school, and they almost brought everyone down with them. Riley felt like Lucas wasn’t honest with her about who he was. Lucas felt like Riley was making a big deal out of stuff from his past that didn’t matter anymore. What Lucas failed to realize is that Riley wanted to know who he was, every version of himself, the good and the bad, because that was who Riley was.
But it was more than that. Lucas never really got over Maya. And once the fairytale dream wore off, Riley and Lucas didn’t have much of a relationship. They were good friends, but that’s the way it always should’ve stayed. They fought a lot towards the end, and as much as their friends tried not to take sides, they did. For a few months there, it was just Riley, Maya, and Farkle again. Just like old times. Except the three of them were sad, angry, and tired, respectively.
The group eventually healed, in the winter of their sophomore year, and in some ways they were stronger than they were before the breakup. Lucas and Riley became close friends again, and it was better that way. Smackle and Farkle broke up at some point, but Cory wasn’t sure exactly when. It didn’t matter. By the end of their sophomore year, things had finally calmed down and Cory was glad to see his daughter smiling and laughing and spending time with her friends again. Besides, tailoring his lesson plans to relationship drama was exhausting.
It was during the summer before their junior year that things started to change again. Katy saved up and sent Maya to art camp for two months—and Shawn kicked in for all new supplies—and that left Riley with a void in her life that she filled with Farkle. It wasn’t surprising. Farkle had always been second only to Maya in Riley’s life. Who else would Riley pick to spend most of her summer with?
But what was surprising was how Riley would rest her head on Farkle’s shoulder when they watched movies, or how her fingers would brush against his as they walked, like she wanted to be holding his hand. Cory caught them in the bay window one afternoon, noses nearly touching, not moving or speaking, just gazing into each other’s eyes. They didn’t even notice he was there until he cleared his throat. They jumped apart, flustered and blushing.
“H-Hey, Dad,” Riley managed. It took all of Cory’s willpower not to laugh.
“I just wanted to ask if Farkle wanted to stay for dinner.”
“Yes, thank you, Sir,” Farkle gave Cory a forced smile, but he was clearly sweating bullets, so Cory decided to let him off the hook.
“Anytime,” Cory shuffled back out into the hallway. “But I’m leaving this door open.”
Cory heard Farkle groan and Riley laugh as he walked down the hall towards the kitchen to help Topanga with dinner.
Farkle came to Cory the first week of Riley’s junior year, Thursday afternoon after school. Amber light spilled in the windows of Cory’s classroom, bright enough that he turned off the fluorescent lights. His last class of the day had ended fifteen minutes ago, but he always stayed late, just in case someone needed help. Usually he left around 45 minutes or an hour after school ended, give or take a few minutes. So far, that afternoon, no one had come to him, but he had papers to grade, and his classroom was quieter than his apartment would be, so he didn’t mind staying late.
Just as he finished grading Yogi’s paper—he got a B—he heard footsteps from the hall outside the classroom. Cory looked up to see a gangly sixteen year old standing in his threshold.
Cory put down his pen and smiled. “Farkle.”
“Hey, Hambone…” Farkle managed a small smirk, before he swallowed hard and took an uncertain step into the classroom. “Got a minute?”
“What can I do for you?”
“I don’t really know,” Farkle hesitated. “I mean…I don’t know how to ask…”
Cory’s smile wavered. Farkle seemed upset. “Is everything okay?”
Farkle bit his lip. “When did you know you were in love with Topanga?” He blurted.
Cory raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“You and Topanga, everyone says that you’re,” Farkle sighed, “You know, true love. I want to know what makes it true love.”
Cory considered this for a moment. Farkle was clearly outside of his comfort zone, which meant whatever was bothering him must’ve been really important to him, which meant Cory had a pretty good idea about what was going on. “Alright,” He said after a short silence. “I’ve known I loved Topanga since we were six years old.”
“Really?” Farkle’s eyes widened. “You weren’t…too young to know?”
“Nope.” Cory shook his head. “I’ve loved her all my life. I’ve always been able to talk to her, to make her laugh, and I’ve always wanted to take care of her.”
Farkle blinked. “Is that what love means?” His voice was quiet, clearly holding back his emotions, though Cory couldn’t understand why.
Cory sighed. “What is this about?”
“It’s nothing, sir,” Farkle cleared his throat. “Just scientific curiosity. So, it’s true love because you’ve always known?”
Cory narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t buying it. “Farkle. You know you can be honest with me, right?”
Farkle frowned. “Mr. Matthews…” He sighed. “I have this, uh. I have this friend, and he’s having some trouble, and I don’t know how to help him.”
Cory softened again immediately. “Oh, really? And what’s your friend’s problem?”
“Well, he has these two best friends. And he loves them both equally, he always has, and he thought he always would. But recently his feelings for one of them have been…changing. Well, that’s not exactly true. He feels the same way he always has, he just…didn’t always realize that he felt what he thinks he feels,” Farkle looked up at Cory. “Does that make sense?”
Cory chuckled. He only partially followed what Farkle said, the kid spoke so quickly, but it didn’t really matter, because he already knew what Farkle was trying to avoid talking about. The only thing that surprised him was that someone as smart as Farkle Minkus took this long to figure it out. “Farkle, tell your friend, that he might love his friends equally, and but that doesn’t mean he loves them the same. There’s a difference between love and in love.”
Farkle furrowed his brow. “How do I—I mean, how can he tell the difference?”
“Love is safe and secure. You know she’s always going to be there for you, and you’re always going to be there for her. In love? In love is scary. In love is new and uncertain. You do your thing, and she does her thing, you are you, she is her, and if you end up together, it’s beautiful.” Cory smiled as he repeated his wife’s words from all those years ago. “You’ve only ever been in love with one of them, Farkle, and I think, deep in your heart, you knew that already.”
Farkle didn’t say anything. Cory half expected him to deny that he was talking about himself, but he didn’t. He just leaned against a desk and thought, his scientific brain likely going a million miles an hour to analyze what Cory had said. Cory turned his attention back to the papers he was grading, knowing that it was going to be a few minutes before Farkle’s mind caught up with his heart.
“Sir?” He said eventually, his voice thick with emotion.
“Yes, Farkle?”
“I’m in love with Riley.” A small smile pulled at the teenager’s lips. “I’ve been in love with Riley since the first grade.”
“I know.” Cory returned Farkle’s smile. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”
Farkle blinked twice. “You want me to do something about it?”
“I want Riley to be happy,” Cory said simply.
“And you think I’m going to make her happy?” Farkle scoffed. “With all due respect, sir, Riley has never seen me like that, and I don’t think she ever will.”
“If you say so,” Cory shrugged. He could only push Farkle so far in the right direction. He had to do the rest himself. “Did you need anything else?”
“No,” Farkle shook his head and strode towards the door, stopping just outside the threshold before leaning back inside. “Mr. Matthews?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
About a month after that conversation, Farkle stayed for dinner at the Matthews, which happened a lot over the summer, but not as much once school started. That, combined with the fact that Riley looked like she was about to explode when she sat down to eat, filled Cory with inexplicable dread. Something was going to happen before the meal was over, and when he looked at Topanga, he could tell she was thinking the same thing, too.
They made it through half of the meal before Riley dropped her fork abruptly and stood up. “I have something to say.”
Cory put down his fork and gave her his attention. “Alright?”
“You know you can tell us anything, sweetheart,” Topanga added.
“I know.” Riley took a deep breath and glanced down at Farkle, who despite being several shades paler than usual, still managed to give her a reassuring smile. “What I want to tell you is that Farkle and I are dating.”
Cory didn’t flinch. “Is that it?”
“Yeah,” Topanga chuckled. “We were expecting something bad.”
Riley furrowed her brow. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“And you’re not chasing me out of the house,” Farkle observed, a smile slowly spreading across his face.
“That’s because it’s about time!” Auggie said, both exasperated and amused.
“Honestly, kids, we saw this coming,” Cory took a bite of lasagna. “But no more hanging out in Riley’s room with the door closed.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I trust you two not to do anything stupid,” Cory added, “But Riley is my only daughter, so if you do anything to hurt her, just remember. I have the power to fail you.”
“Dad!” Riley snapped, “Don’t threaten my boyfriend!”
Farkle’s eyes widened. “I’m your boyfriend?”
“Of course you’re my boyfriend, what else would you be?”
Farkle turned bright red. “Well, you’ve never called me that before.”
Riley softened. “I guess I haven’t,” she smiled sheepishly. “I liked it.”
Farkle beamed back and took Riley’s hand in his. “I liked it, too.”
And just like that, it was like Cory, Topanga, and Auggie didn’t even exist. Cory looked at his wife. “They’re just like we were when we were sixteen.”
Topanga nodded. “They’re in love.”
“Hey,” Cory grinned. “You owe me fifty bucks.”
Topanga rolled her eyes and clapped him gently on the shoulder. “They’re not married yet, pal.”
Five years later Cory found himself spending Christmas in Philadelphia for the first time in ages. The whole family was there—Morgan and her girlfriend, Josh, Eric and Jack, even Shawn and Katy were there. Amy thought it was best that they all spend the holidays together. Cory’s father has passed away a few months earlier, and they were all still reeling, especially his mother. Everyone wanted to do everything they could to make it easier for her, and if that meant dropping their lives for a couple of weeks to celebrate the holidays with her, that’s what they would do.
Cory would’ve rather been anywhere than a house full of memories of his father, but he knew how much his mother was hurting, and he had to be there. Besides, he was spending time with his family, which couldn’t possibly be a bad thing, even if the living room felt cramped and suffocating. It wasn’t that it wasn’t a pleasant scene, with Jack and Eric under the mistletoe and Shawn doting over his pregnant wife and Maya playing Old Maid with her six year old sister. But there was so much missing from the scene. He imagined his father, laughing with a mug of eggnog and “holiday cheer” and felt a dull ache in his chest.
“Hey,” Topanga came up beside him and squeezed his arm. “You alright?”
“I miss him,” Cory sighed.
“We all do,” Topanga took a sip of her eggnog. Cory smiled at that—he knew that she was drinking in reverence to his father.
“I need some air,” was all he said. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and then walked out toward the backyard, through the kitchen, stopping to grab a coat off the coat rack before opening the door. He was hit with a blast of cold as soon as he stepped outside, but he didn’t mind it so much. The sound of snow crunching under foot was soothing as he made his way across the backyard to his old tree house. Maybe it was silly, especially in the dead of winter, but it had always been his escape as a kid, so he climbed up. It wasn’t as easy as it used to be, but he made it up. He could still see into Mr. Feeny’s dining room—or what used to be Mr. Feeny’s dining room; a young couple lived there now, yet another unwelcome change.
Cory had always been bad with change, even when he was a kid and the Phillies made a trade he didn’t agree with. And recently so much had changed. Riley graduated from college, Auggie was absolutely dominating the high school theatre world, Shawn was married with kids, Maya was an art teacher. The change wasn’t all bad, of course, in fact most of it was good; his family was happy, overall. But there was a part of Cory that ached for a time when he could climb up into that tree house anytime he got overwhelmed, when the biggest worry on his mind was whether or not he, Shawn, and Topanga were going to get into the same colleges.
“Mr. Matthews?” A voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he pulled his eyes was from what used to be Mr. Feeny’s window to see Farkle’s head popping up.
“Is it dinner time?”
“Oh,” Farkle shook his head. “No. I just wanted to come talk to you. Can I come in?”
Cory smiled. “Of course.”
“Thanks.” Farkle pulled himself the rest of the way up into the tree house. The old wood groaned slightly, and Cory was suddenly very glad that Farkle was still a very skinny kid. “So…” Farkle cleared his throat awkwardly. “Whatcha doing up here?”
“I needed some time to think,” Cory answered honestly, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. Farkle was nervous, and he didn’t want to make it worse.
“Right…” Farkle hesitated. “So…I wanted to, uh, ask you something?” Farkle’s voice went up at least three octaves on the last few words of his sentence.
“Okay…” Cory raised an eyebrow.
Farkle sighed and reached for something in his pocket—a small, square, black box. Cory knew immediately what it was.
“Farkle…”
“I know we’re young, Mr. Matthews, but you and Topanga were already married by the time you were our age. And besides, Riley and I have known each other all our lives. There’s no one else in the world for me, and I know she feels the same,” Farkle took a breath. “But I know getting your blessing is important to her.”
Cory just laughed. “Honestly? I’m surprised it took you this long.”
Farkle’s head snapped up. “What?!”
“Farkle,” Cory shook his head, “Just like you said, Topanga and I had already been married for three years when we were your age. And I know how much you and Riley love each other.”
Farkle nodded slowly. “So...?”
“So, of course, you have my blessing.” Cory smiled warmly.
“Thank you.”
There was a pause, and then Cory heard the sound of footsteps in the snow. It was Riley, come to inform them that dinner was ready. As Cory followed his daughter and her soon to be fiancé back into his childhood home, he began to wonder if change wasn’t all that bad after all.
They got married in the autumn. Riley always liked that color palette, full of deep burgundies and rusty oranges. It was a beautiful ceremony, but small. Just family and a few close friends, but it’s all they needed. It was a bit surreal for Cory, walking his only daughter down the aisle and giving her away. She was grown up suddenly, nearly twenty four years old, but to Cory it seemed like just yesterday she was his little girl, her lips stained red from popsicles instead of lipstick.
He made it through the ceremony, somehow, without having a full mental breakdown, but he couldn’t hold back tears as the kids read their vows. Even at the reception, nursing a glass of champagne and a slice of cake, he was still a little watery and emotional.
“Care to dance?” Topanga asked, sliding up behind him.
He smiled up at her. “Of course.”
She pulled him onto the dance floor, and they swayed gently to John Legend’s All of Me—a dated song, but one of Riley’s favorites. Cory caught sight of her leaning on her new husband, eyes closed, a contented smile on her face.
“Are you crying again?”
“These are tears of joy,” Cory explained. “Because I won the bet.”