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***June 19, 2026***
"Is there a reason you're staring at me?" Alexandra Eames Goren asked lightly as she turned away from the full-length mirror, in which she'd seen the reflected image of her tall husband, standing at ease with his arms crossed in front of him.
Robert Goren grinned and said unexpectedly, "It's one of my 'puzzles,' Eames, wondering what you've done to stop aging."
"Flatterer," but her cheeks pinked as she crossed her arms to mirror him, cocking her head with an elfin smile. "And I'm the one with the ancestors who supposedly kissed the Blarney Stone. Are you hiding a leprechaun in your family tree?"
He walked forward, the cocky smile still on his face. "Only if he's posing as a Cossack, Princess Ozma. Just hot-blooded Russians, according to Aunt Agnes, and equally hot-blooded Caribbeans, according to my mom's old stories."
"Is that so, Oscar Diggs?" she teased in return, letting her hands slide down her hips in subtle invitation.
He added promise to his own statement by tipping her head up with his left hand; even with her in heeled sandals, he had to lower his shoulders slightly to kiss her. She held the kiss as long as she could, then broke it reluctantly.
"We'll have to hit pause if we expect to make it to school on time. So...to be continued?"
He sighed. "I don't remember our schools having elaborate last day rituals when we were kids."
"St. Gregory's just does it," she commented, swooping up her purse, "to get the parents more involved. I remember last day of school in Inwood--the teachers waved goodbye and locked the doors behind us, probably so we didn't find out they'd pulled out six-packs and a carton of Camels to celebrate."
"I had a very Quixotic second-grade teacher," he recalled, thrusting his wallet in his pocket, "who used the classroom record player on the last day to see us out the door with The Happenings' 'See You in September.' Three kids cried because it was June, and they didn't want to think about September."
"Monster," Alex agreed, laughing.
The family collie met them at the foot of the stairs, wagging his tail swiftly at an anticipated expedition, a tail that slowed, then lowered when he sniffed at their garments. Neither was in formal dress, but Alex had chosen a ruffled sundress and the heeled sandals in deference to summery weather, and Bobby was clad in a lightweight button-down blue-grey shirt and cotton-weave navy trousers with his usual boots.
"Sorry," Bobby apologized, for Sam's ears were already flattened in disappointment, and his eyes were plaintive. "We'll be home soon."
They took the Pilot, knowing there would be extras to bring home; the school library permitted students in good standing to borrow up to 10 books over the summer. Neither doubted that both their bookworms would have a stack to carry.
The entrance to the parking lot west of the castellated stone bulk of St. Gregory's Academy was a beehive; sedans, SUVs, even a few pickup trucks leaving in a steady stream, another line of them inching forward to enter. Many vehicles had headed for the pick-up line, as always, their drivers not lured by the face-to-face meetup the staff had hoped for. On the school's electronic notice board, two different messages alternated: "Congratulations, Class of 2026!" in the school colors, sky blue and gold, and "Happy Juneteenth!" in black, red, and green.
They knew the Upper School had been released earlier, so they headed first to the newer building across the small grassy quadrangle, where Olivia was chatting with her teacher Ms. Perkins, three parents, and several of her classmates in Room N102. Bobby glanced at Alex as they halted in the doorway, and she smiled, for there, stacked neatly on Olivia's desk, were indeed ten books. He would have known they were hers anywhere: three very "old-fashioned ones," Porter's Girl of the Limberlost, Wiggins' Further Chronicles of Rebecca, and Alcott's Jack and Jill, a Canadian history and one about the French and Indian War, a nonfiction book about children's novels, two instructional volumes of drawing and watercolor, a hefty book on the art of Beatrix Potter, and finally, a travel book about Australia.
"She looks more like Marcel as she gets older," Alex observed fondly.
"Except for her eyes," he said thoughtfully, regarding the Australian volume. "I still wonder...had Nicole an upbringing like yours, tight-knit, strict but loving, if her father hadn't made his obscene demands on her, if she never had met Bernard Fremont...would she be in Australia now, happily teaching women's literature to adoring students?"
"It's possible," she admitted. "I haven't considered it the way you have. But one thing I've learned from you, Bobby, is--can we ever know where one decision takes us? What about you? If your childhood had been stable, would you have developed a passion for justice? You might be at Columbia right now, probably teaching history. Would we have ever met?"
He took her hand, rubbing the palm with his thumb. "I don't know, Eames...when I've thought of the alternative turns of my life...somewhere in the back of my heart I always imagine we would have found each other."
Touched by the sentiment, she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, and could do neither, given their location. The last day of school had brought out his reflective side.
"Whatever else was on Nicole's shoulders," he finished pensively, "she left one thing good behind."
At that moment, Olivia paused in her conversation and spied them.
"There they are, Mrs. Michel!" she exclaimed happily, face bright, gesturing to the person next to her. "Papa, this is Adelaide's mother, Mrs. Michel, and she's just read Conchie!"
"Adelaide's mother," a slim woman of average height with brassy blond hair and designer eyeglasses, turned away from her conversation with Caroline Perkins, her expression awed. Alex bit her lip because, while Bobby appreciated compliments of his editing skills in the Korean War memoir They Called Me "Conchie," written by their late neighbor Bruno Volpe, Mr. Michel looked like the type of reader he usually dreaded, one who praised Bruno's work as his own.
"Mr. Goren!" she said with excitement as she reached out to shake his hand. "Such a wonderful book! I was so impressed by your writing-"
He had the entire response down pat: "Thank you so much, Mrs. Michel, but it's really Bruno Volpe's words that shine. All I did was add some annotations so that you would better understand the text."
Mrs. Michel surprised him. "But that's what I admired most, Mr. Goren. My grandfather served in Korea, but I wouldn't have understood the military terms or the circumstances surrounding the war without those annotations. So I'm very grateful you helped me understand his own experiences."
"I'm glad they were helpful to you," he said, smiling, and Mrs. Michel colored, her hands fluttering.
"It was such an honor to meet you!" she gushed, and appeared to want to say more, but Adelaide, a sturdy fair-haired girl with an impatient expression, called to her, and she excused herself.
"I see I still need to stand guard on you," Alex commented dryly, feigning offense and completely failing.
Olivia preened slightly. "That's because I have the handsomest Papa, and Mama has the handsomest husband, in the whole school."
Bobby grinned. "Yes, Miss Olivia, and, just for that, I will carry your books."
He was rewarded with a roll of her eyes, followed by a meek, "Thank you, Papa."
Alex only smiled and told her, "Don't get cocky, kid."
"Mama, isn't that from Star Wars?" Olivia queried as Bobby hefted the volumes easily under one arm.
"Yes."
"I thought you said you didn't like science fiction," Olivia objected.
"Not usually, but both Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Jack dragged me to see it, and then I went with friends, so I do know the specifics."
"Besides, Star Wars is popular culture now, Min," observed Bobby. "Most people know the quotation, sometimes without even knowing the source. Look how many people use the term 'Play it again, Sam' freely--and that, of course, is a misquote--without their knowing it's from Casa-"
"Papa," suggested Olivia gently, "maybe later?"
He arched his eyebrows at Alex. "Women keep telling me that."
Olivia gave him a droll look and then fractured the family rule by misquoting it, "Because first we do the things, then you get to canoodle."
Alex bit back a laugh, and he chuckled, then good-naturedly gestured for them to go first. They said their farewells to Ms. Perkins and the others, then made their way back to the stone-walled, castle-like 1886 structure that had once been all of St. Gregory's Academy. Randall's homeroom was only a dozen steps from the rear entrance, and children and parents were leaving in twos and threes. They greeted little Miriam Darling, who was wheelchair-bound, and chatted with her mother, while Olivia, instead of her usually restless father, fidgeted with impatience.
Inside, Randall was fidgeting as well, fiddling with his glasses. He was up front, standing before his desk, waiting with his special friend from home room, Kenneth Shepherd, and balding, gentle-eyed Brother Michael.
When the Gorens had first brought their new foster son to St. Gregory's, hypershy, restless, and suffering from criticism heaped on him from an uncomprehending father, Brother Michael had correctly settled on a plan to improve his self-image. First, he explained why an older boy was in the special needs homeroom: at birth, Kenny had suffered oxygen deprivation, affecting his brain so that emotionally and academically, he was like a ten-year-old. While not hearing-impaired, Kenny was also nonverbal, but had instead shown interest in learning sign language.
So Brother Michael had asked Randall if he could be Kenny's "homeroom buddy," and perhaps learn ASL to communicate with him. The move had succeeded beyond his expectations: not only had it boosted Randall's self-esteem, but the boys had become fast friends, and the former was now so facile at ASL that he had translated for Deaf visitors.
Now at eighteen, Kenny was a tall, strapping, good-natured redhead who would be leaving St. Gregory's to receive vocational instruction in the fall.
= Where is Olivia? = Kenny signed impatiently as they waited.
Randall had learned to curb his smile because Kenny had admitted frequently that he thought Olivia was cute. Well, he guessed she was--he'd have to say that even though she was his sister (or, as Alex occasionally joked, partner in crime).
= Mom and Dad probably went by her homeroom to pick her up, = he signed back; even though he could have spoken to Kenny, he liked to keep in practice. He'd been really chuffed--that's what Olivia had called it, anyway--the previous month when they had asked his help with a senior classmate's Deaf mother who had come to St. Gregory's unexpectedly while her son and friends were at an intramural sporting event.
= So you know I have a real job this summer, right? =
Again, Randall kept his face solemn, for Kenny had mentioned it at least twice a week for months. = Yes. Do you think you'll like it? =
Kenny looked thoughtful. = I would rather be home with Mom and Ivy, and Cottontail and Peter, but I'm a man now, and grownups go to work. Besides, my counselor said I'll be keeping the store germ-free so people won't get sick! It's an important job. Almost as good as being a doctor. =
Randall nodded solemnly. Kenny would be working a few hours a week as a cleaning assistant at the local supermarket and was very proud of the position.
= We'll still be friends, right? =
Randall looked surprised, then hurt. = Of course we will. We're- = and he said aloud, "We're ohana. Like in Lilo and Stitch."
= If I tell you where I work, = Kenny ventured shyly, = would you visit? =
= After work or during your break, = Randall promised, = so we don't get you in trouble while you're working. Now, remember, Kenny, you can't say hi to everybody when you work. You have to do your job. If they say hi to you first, then it's okay. =
Kenny nodded. = Mom said that, too. And no hugging in the store part. In the break room is okay. Oh, there's Olivia! You gonna tell them now? =
= Brother Michael will tell them. It's polite. =
Olivia had finally come dancing through the doorway, filled to the brim with the secret which Randall had entrusted to her at lunch, followed by their unsuspecting parents. To his surprise, a moment later, the principal, Sister Maria Scholastica, strolled in behind them. Unlike the other sisters, she was an older woman who continued to wear the longer skirt and a long sky-blue veil edged in white around her head, preferring the more strict habit of the order. "I'm afraid I'm just an old-fashioned girl at heart," she had told the Gorens once, tongue-in-cheek.
"Randall, Ken," Brother Michael gestured, and they gathered until the seven of them formed a small cluster. As Sister Maria Scholastica greeted them, Kenny's mother arrived, and they made space for her as well. Karen Shepherd placed an arm around her son.
"Now," the principal began, with a parchment sheet in her hand, "due to his academic excellence," and Randall ducked his head and muttered, "Except for gym class."
"Ah, we don't count that against you," she laughed. "We can't all be Johnny Unitas."
"Who?" Olivia and Randall asked in unison, and Kenny looked puzzled.
"Football player," Bobby explained to the youngsters. "Don't worry about it. Sister."
"It's practically a running gag at our house," was Alex's dry rejoinder.
"As I was saying," the portly woman said with a grin, "due to Randall's academic excellence, his deportment, his attendance record, and especially his willingness to be of assistance to his classmates even when it conflicts with his social comfort," and she handed the parchment to Alex, "we are offering him a full scholarship for next year, and a conditional scholarship through twelfth grade."
Olivia, who had only heard the scholarship news and not the conditional addendum, gave a whoop clearly learned from Ana Serrano. "Ace, Randall!"
= What does it mean? = Kenny's fingers flew frantically.
"No tuition!" Randall exclaimed happily. "We can buy more books!"
Alex laughed, and Bobby chuckled, "More like saving it for college, buddy."
"Oh...yeah." Randall made a face.
"And maybe a few books," offered Alex to mollify him.
Sister Maria Scholastica chatted for several minutes about their upcoming summer plans, then bustled to another classroom, presumably to deliver more fiscal cheer, and Brother Michael excused himself to stroll to the other side of the room to greet Sharon Aletter's mothers.
Karen Shepherd whispered something in her son's ear, and Kenny glanced at her with big eyes. She whispered again, and this time he nodded vigorously. Then, abruptly, he thrust his right hand out at Randall.
"Than' ooh." His words came out with effort, but Kenny beamed when he finished.
Randall froze, swallowed, and blinked at Alex. Next to him, Olivia restrained a gasp, her mouth ajar. Then he took Kenny's hand and shook it. "You're...welcome."
"Brill!" Olivia exploded and hugged him, and Kenny's grin made it appear as if the world had been given to him.
"Ken's been working on his verbal skills for months, with Ivy and me," Karen said with affection. "You're the first people--besides his therapists and us--that he's spoken to."
Bobby put out his hand for Kenny to shake. "We are very honored, Ken."
Kenny shook his hand enthusiastically. "Than' y-you," he repeated, putting more emphasis on the last word. Then he signed, = I want to say it to Brother Michael. =
"We'll let you go then; we need to be getting home," Alex said, hugging Kenny.
"And we need to pick up Ivy," Karen agreed. "Let's go speak to Brother Michael, Ken."
Kenny, half turned away, waved, then signed something so quickly that only Randall understood. Randall burst out laughing, then saw Bobby move to gather his books with his free arm. (As Bobby expected, Randall's choices had been as different from his sister's as meat was from potatoes: two astronomy works, Jeffrey Kluger's Apollo 8, Forensics for Dummies, two Heinlein juveniles (Have Spacesuit Will Travel and Red Planet), The Bletchley Riddle, Seaman's The Mystery of Number Six, and two volumes of Sherlock Holmes' pastiches.)
Randall offered hastily, "I can take those, Dad," as he settled his backpack.
"Do you think Kenny will ever just speak and stop signing?" Olivia wondered, smiling to herself as they walked down the corridor to the rear door.
"I guess that's up to Kenny," Alex said, noting how Randall avoided looking at his sister and concentrated on balancing his library haul.
"So, what did Kenny sign to you?" Olivia asked expectantly as they emerged from the building.
Randall looked abashed. "He said...um...he said if he knew you'd hug him, he might have tried to talk two years ago."
Bobby nearly dropped Olivia's books.
"Don't worry, Dad," was the unperturbed answer. "He already knows 'Livia's too young to date."
Alex coughed softly at the look on her husband's face. "And so it begins."