Epilogue
Grace was smiling almost as much as Jamie, who was vibrating with excitement. Words spilled out of the youngster so fast that Grace wondered if Daniel could possibly understand her on the other end of the phone, on the other side of the world.
“Mr. Nick just said he’s been studying about it and we’re gonna make wine out of honey, but I said it would be too thick to drink and he said his first batch probably would be, but that seems like a waste of good honey to me.
I took the sample SCAT test today and Dr. Grace said I did better than she expected on the verbal stuff so I might be able to get in this year because of my math, but I don’t know if I wanna go this summer,” Jamie continued without taking a breath.
“Mom says there’s some family programs that she and I can attend together, so I might do that first.”
It was the first time Daniel had called since he’d left three days ago, and Jamie had a lot of catching up to do. Grace sipped her tea, examining the origami figures that Jamie had just finished while she waited.
“I won’t rush things. I’m having lots of fun with origami right now. Tell Mel I’ve got some really cool designs to show her.”
Grace was relieved to hear from him, even if it was secondhand. She just wished Jamie hadn’t been the first to grab the phone.
“Who’s that yelling? What does mangia mean?”
Grace laughed and made a gimme gesture with her fingers.
“Dr. Grace wants the phone now. I love you bunches! Bye!” And Jamie was off, running to the door to greet Nick, who had just pulled into the drive.
The first thing she heard over the phone was someone yelling in Italian. Grace winced, “Danny?”
“Yeah. Sorry about the noise. Mama Rosetta is insisting that I get off the phone because my food is getting cold. Even though this dish is supposed to be cold.”
Something inside Grace that had been coiled tight since Daniel left finally loosened. “It is so good to hear from you two. I assume Mel is there.”
“Buona sera!” Mel shouted.
Grace laughed. “Well, I am glad to hear you two are actually surfacing to eat now and again.”
“Yeah, well. We had this magazine article to finish,” he said in a sly tone. “But we did go through the Uffizi today—”
“And nearly got tossed out!” Mel said in the background.
“Only because you insisted on kissing me in front of the Birth of Venus. And in the Caravaggio room. And in the—Ouch! Stop that.”
She smiled at the embarrassment in his voice. “Scandalizing the locals again,” Grace said.
“Mostly Mel. Ouch!”
Nick walked into the kitchen. “Jamie says Daniel’s finally reporting in.”
Grace nodded. He walked over to where she sat at the breakfast bar and waited.
“Sorry I didn’t call before now,” Daniel said.
“No. I know you have better things to do.” She paused long enough to embarrass him a bit more. “Like make out in museums and cathedrals and such.”
“Yeah. I miss you guys too. You and Lily okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Speaking of Lily, I need to tell you something. On the porch, Lily told me there were many paths to follow.” He lowered his voice. “And I think… I’m pretty sure we’ll find the right path.”
“The right path?”
“I…had a vision and I think we figure it out. All of us. And…I wanted you to know…”
For a moment she thought they’d been cut off, but she heard the loud noises in the background. “What, Danny?”
“I found my happy ending, Gracie.”
Grace covered her mouth. Nick took the phone from her as she waved her hand in front of her eyes, trying not to cry.
“Great job. My wife’s hormones are acting up again, but at least she seems to be happy,” Nick said.
Daniel laughed. “Yeah. Well…so are we.”
“Glad to hear it. Now, stop making my wife cry. Give our love to Mel and come home safe—both of you.”
“We will. Love you guys. Ciao!”
Nick leaned to wrap his arms around Grace and rest his chin on her head.
“So, they’re all right,” he said.
“Oh yes.” She sniffed and wiped her cheeks. After a lifetime of dreaming of bad endings, Daniel had finally found his happy ever after. She turned around on the chair. “Where’d Jamie run off to?”
“Studying. Upstairs.” Nick pulled a paper envelope out from behind his back.
“Dr. Morgan said that she would like to come up here to discuss the journal. On first scan, she said the other pages looked like bleed through or impressions that probably weren’t any additional writing.
Although she was surprised to see those kind of impressions at all based on the kind of pen she was using,” he said, carefully opening the clasp and lifting the flap.
“She’s going to take a closer look at the scans as soon as she can. But this one was relatively easy.”
Grace reached for it. “Does she know why the writing faded in some places and not others?”
“She said the problem with this particular page was the ink—probably a bad batch. The bit at the top that was so clear—” Nick carefully pulled sheets of paper out of the envelope, including one that seemed to be encased in plastic.
“Most of the firefly story was in different ink than the rest of the page. Diana didn’t try to date the ink, but she says the paper dates to the late 1800s, which matches up with the date at the top, and the script indicates she used a fountain pen. ”
“It’s Diana now, is it?” Grace teased.
Nick smirked and pulled out the plastic sleeve. “She got tired of me calling her Dr. Morgan.”
Grace leaned over the encased document. The words were all there. Clear and legible. Granny Lily’s words. She reached out to touch it.
“That’s archival. It’s safe in there,” said Nick.
“This sleeve keeps the air and moisture off and prevents further deterioration. I put all the pages, even the ones that looked blank, in them. She said if there is anything on them, the archival sleeves should protect them. She made all kinds of scans so she could work on them later. She is pretty fascinated by it all.”
Grace stared at the page. “I bet she is.”
“I think Daniel’s right. My gut says she’s trustworthy.” He picked up another sheet. “She transcribed what she could and said she’s pretty sure of the accuracy, although a couple of words didn’t make sense to her and might be incorrect.”
Grace looked at him. Something was wrong. “What is it?”
“It’s…” He blew out a breath and pulled up one of the stools to sit beside her. “Grace, it’s breathtaking, I guess that’s the word. It talks about you.” He pushed the sheet toward her. “There’s a chance it might be Lily, but I think it’s you. Either way…”
She cupped her hand over her stomach.
Nick put his arm around her. “It’s okay. Now that it’s all there, just start at the beginning.”
Grace read the words Granny Lily had written more than a century ago.
“‘11 December 1898.
“‘Long ago, the people called her by many names and bent their heads in the mountains and caverns to listen reverently to her words. And She sang.
“‘It was then that stars came down to perch in her hair and listen while the people danced gently on her hills and the old magic whispered through her valleys. And She laughed.’”
Grace touched the page. “Did you tell her this was Pops’ firefly story?”
“Yeah,” Nick said.
She continued. “‘But the people turned away and made for themselves counterfeit canyons filled with illusions and discordant echoes of the music they had once known. And She is silent.’”
“We had guessed at canyons, but not music.” Grace paused. “The story is so beautiful, written this way.”
“Diana was…intrigued by the next part, of course,” Nick said.
“‘Until her cities of ice are melted and the oceans stripped of her bounty.’”
“We know what’s happening to the ice caps. And the oceans have been overfished and used as a garbage dump,” Grace said. “I’m sure that did make her curious.”
“Yes. The next line was completely faded,” Nick said. “And Daniel is going to be… Well, read it.”
“‘Until blackness from her bowels chokes the sky and her singing masons build no more.’”
Grace frowned. “What is ‘blackness from her own bowels’?”
“Coal, maybe? Oil? Take your pick,” Nick said.
“Oh.” She nodded. “But what about—‘singing masons build no more’?”
“Diana had to research that one. Shakespeare. Henry V. Singing masons are bees.”
Her eyes widened.
“Yeah. Wait until Daniel hears that.”
Part of the next line was partially legible before, so Grace was ready for it. “‘Until the healing dark is banished and her flashing crown extinguished.’ That makes sense. Light pollution eliminates the healing dark and is decimating the firefly population—her flashing crown.”
Nick nodded. “Could be.”
She read the next line to herself. “We could see part of this before, but mimicry? I don’t even want to think about what that means.”
“I have some ideas.”
“‘Until creation itself is mocked and the mimicry turns on its makers.’”
“GMOs? Nanotech? Cloning?” Nick suggested, then smiled. “Skynet and terminators?”
“I wonder what she saw? An accidentally released virus resulting in…”
Nick gave a meaningful look. “A pandemic of miscarriages?”
Grace frowned. “Possibly, but anything you create in the lab fits into that one. It’s too broad.” Grace thought about the equipment they were going to order for her lab. What would it tell her about how her gift changed the plants she worked with? Was she the one mocking creation?
Nick gave her arm a squeeze. “Go on.”
“‘Until they devour her mountains and toss the bones in her valleys.’ As we thought, that’s probably mountaintop removal. The ‘toss the bones in her valleys’ confirms it. That’s exactly what they do.”
“Yeah. And you remember the next line.”
“‘Until they walk on the sky and turn to see Her blue sphere entire.’ The Apollo mission.”
“And the ‘Earthrise’ photo,” Nick said. “I told Diana that Granny Lily lived to see a man walk on the moon, which might explain that line.”
“But I’m sure she noticed the date on this entry.”
He sighed. “Probably.”