Epilogue

Finding Home Again

After parting ways with Brandon, the boys and I left for home in my fueled, repaired, and restocked SUV. My plan was to travel south first, and then east toward Virginia. I knew why I drove south first, well, other than the regulations by the National Guard.

Perhaps…he was long gone, but I could hope. Austin, Texas, was on the scenic way to Virginia. I didn’t think the kids would mind a short detour.

When I saw the sign for New Mexico, I kept driving. Goodbye, Colorado.

Ever observant, Will said, “Don’t we need to take a road north to Maine, Mom?”

“You’re such an astute navigator, Will. We’re going to see Grandma and Grandpa Sinclair in Virginia. Plus we have to go south first.”

Finn and Will both released happy shouts. “Yippie!”

“Gram always lets me eat an extra cookie,” Finn said, glowing. I watched him in the rearview mirror. God, how I’d missed his enthusiasm.

“Mom, we don’t need to go through Texas to get to Virginia,” Will observed.

“Scenic route,” I said. I released a sigh but fastened a smile on my own face. It was time to see Harrison’s parents. Patsy would never be my own mother, and George, well, he reminded me of Harrison. They were my family now and forever. I loved them. The boys loved them. Patsy would embrace us with her usual courteous hospitality. It was time to move on in the next stage of grief together.

If I happened to drive through Austin, Texas…

I also decided I was going to visit Cynthia, the mother of the young man who killed Harrison—Clayton Attwood—there, I said it. I knew too well the grief Cynthia held for a love lost, for a son lost. I had to forgive and move on.

We drove across the Colorado border, the boys laughing in the back seat. Finn poked Will, Will poked Finn, they giggled, and they shared stories. I stuck my hand back, palm upward, in our familiar gesture. Each boy squeezed my hand. God, how I missed doing that.

A welcoming horizon greeted us, the rising sun fighting its way through the gray obscurity that hung in the air. The round orb poked its nose above the hills ahead and brightened the dark world with life. I no longer drew my gaze to the rearview mirror, except for watching the boys goof off together. No more ash—although it still draped over the countryside in a heavy charcoal blanket—but the roads were cleared enough for safe travel. No more frantic searching.

The journey to find Finn had been my compass’s north. I had found my way across the country. The atlas had helped. Reid had helped. My own perseverance had helped. Hope had led me to my Finn, like the beacon of a lighthouse, directing lost sailors in a tossing maelstrom. It had also led me to my absolution. Although my wounds from Harrison’s death would never fully heal, the strips of repair were growing like scar tissue. That scar was a reminder of my loss, but it was healing. I would prevail. I would not let this world break me. Like the world, I would rise from the ashes.

Finn had not been the one lost. It was me. Somewhere along the way, I’d found myself again. A stranger who hardly knew me had restored my faith and brought the flicker of life back to me.

I didn’t know what twists or bumps awaited me on my parenting journey with two special boys. I would be okay. Will and Finn would be okay. We would not fade away. I wouldn’t allow it. Just like our world would not relent in the wake of modern man’s largest natural disaster.

Unlike many of the roads we’d traversed to get to Colorado, I saw not one hitchhiker on the drive today. The disorder had settled, for now. Almost three weeks had elapsed since the eruption. The big dig had begun. People were now transitioning from shock to relief efforts and cleanup. Much to everyone’s relief, the panic that had pressed our country to the brink of anarchy had not resulted in a complete breakdown of the country. Our government, our military, and the goodness of mankind had held it together. Stories filled the newscasts. Stories of hope and humanity. Together, we would rise from it all.

A long stretch of open highway lay ahead. Completeness radiated through me.

Before long, I spotted a lone person traveling along the road, walking. His gray and red plaid long-sleeved shirt was unmistakable. His pack looked lighter. He, too, had unloaded his burdens in Colorado.

“Mom! Look!” said Will, his voice light and happy. “How great is that? We have his bike!”

I slammed on the brakes without hesitation, the gravel spitting beneath the tires. Luck, hope, my keen navigating skills, or fate…I don’t know which it was. I found him. My heart thumped. I rolled down the passenger window. “Hi,” was all I could manage. How could I convey my apologies for my own unkind ways?

His richly colored eyes smiled at me. I’d once heard Susie tell Will that his eyes smiled. I smiled myself.

“Hi,” Reid said.

Will leaned through his opened window. “Don’t you live in Colorado?”

Finn said, “Hi! Got any of those lollipops?”

Reid pulled two from his upper pocket. “Last two, buddy. I was saving them for you guys.” He handed them to Will, who then gave one to Finn. He added, his look upon me, “If I ever saw you again.” His face shone with hope, with regret, and with his natural sincerity I had grown to appreciate. And I had missed it. It said what neither of us could say with words.

A swaying voice danced in my ears. It was a voice I had not heard since before finding Finn, for I had finally let him go, for my own good. Love again. It’s time. Make a new home.

Yes, Harrison, I will. Thank you.

“Are you going home?” Will asked.

“Yes,” I answered for Reid, leaning over to open the passenger door.