The Reflecting Pool.
The small boy sat with his mother on a bench. They had just come from the cemetery and they were both tired from an emotional visit to the grave of the boy's father. He had died in Afghanistan a year before, but it was still fresh for both of them. The visit to the grave had brought back the memories like it was only yesterday.
The boy remembered his last conversation with his father. His father had asked him if he understood why he had to go away. The boy had, and he thought of how he told his father that it would all be okay. That he knew his father was going to make the world safe for other little boys in that country so far away. The boy wished now that the ice cream they had shared had lasted longer. At the time, he hadn't known it would be the last time he would hear see his face or see him smile. The boy started to cry.
His mother put her arm around his shoulders, and pulled him close.
"It's okay sweetheart. It's okay to be sad."
"I know, but Dad told me to be brave. For you." His voice quavered as he tried to contain the sobs that he knew were close to the surface. He wanted to be brave, but he missed his dad so much.
"You are brave son, and crying only shows how much you miss him. There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all."
"You miss him too though right?" The boy wiped his running nose on his sleeve as he did his best to stop crying.
"Of course I do." She squeezed her son a little tighter. Even though she had never been married to his father, and they hadn't been together since shortly after their son's birth, she did miss him. He was a wonderful man, and even though it hadn't worked out between them, he had been a great father. She missed him more than she would admit out loud. To anyone.
"Mom?" The boy asked as he leaned into his mother's shoulder.
"Yes?" She held him tight.
"I don't ever want to forget him."
"I know. That's why we came here today. This place is called the reflecting pool. It's a place where you can come and remember all those who died in war, or other fights that we have had. You can come here and remember your dad, and the sacrifice he made to his country."
"You know what I remember Mom?"
"What? Tell me." She continued to hold him close, glad that his crying had subsided a bit.
"I remember the last time he called us, on the satellite phone, and he was scared to go to fight. He didn't think he had enough training, and he was worried that he wasn't ready to go to the line. Do you remember that?" He turned to look up at his mother and saw the tears forming in her eyes.
"I remember. He died the next day." Tears flowed down her cheeks and the boy reached up to wipe them away.
"I hate that he was scared before he died. "
"I know sweetheart, I wish they had trained him better. He might have known what to do; maybe it would have worked out differently. But we shouldn't think about that. We should think about how brave he was, and that he went over there to make lives better for people he had never met before. We should think about what a great person he was, and what a good dad he was to you."
The mother and son sat on the bench for some time. They were silent, and both knew each other was thinking of the man who had died.
The boy leaned on his mother's shoulder until he was distracted by the approach of a woman from the other direction. The woman was tall, and slim, and she carried flowers in her hands. She was very beautiful but she looked tired.
"Mom…look." He pointed at the woman.
The mother grabbed his outstretched arm and pulled it back down.
"It's rude to point, and what? What about her?"
"She was at the cemetery when we were there. She was carrying those flowers too. She never left them on a grave. Why Mom?"
They both watched the woman as she purchased two coffees from the coffee cart, and shuffled the flowers in her arms as she carried the beverages and sat down on the bench next to them.
"I don't know. Maybe she's sad about whoever's grave she went to visit and she couldn't leave them."
The boy kept watching the woman. He was intrigued by her. Who would go to a grave, but then not leave the flowers they had brought. And now why did she buy two coffees and sit on the bench by the reflecting pool. He kept watching as she set one of the coffees down beside her, and sipped the other.
"Mom? Do you think she's reflecting about someone who died?"
"I just don't know son. It's rude to stare, you should stop it."
The mother also wondered about the woman. She wondered if her and her significant other had come here often. Perhaps they had shared coffees, and laughs at the end of a long day. Perhaps this place was special to them both and she came here to remember the good times. There was just no way to know. The more she glanced at the woman, the more familiar she was becoming. She followed her own advice to her son and tried not to stare, but the woman was very familiar.
The afternoon wore on, and the mother and son made no motion to leave. It was so peaceful there. They both seemed very content. The woman on the bench next to them had not left either. She had only gotten up once to buy two more coffees. She had only drunk one of them, but she placed the other one on the bench beside her when she sat back down.
As the mystery woman sat back down, the mother got a good look at her face and stiffened as she suddenly recognized her. Her son noticed.
"What Mom? What is it?"
She leaned down close to his ear and whispered,
"That's the famous author Temperance Brennan. You know those books with the skeletons on them that I read… she wrote them. Wow. I can't believe it's really her."
"You should go talk to her mom, ask for her autograph."
"I don't think so. She looks like she's sad. I don't want to bother her."
The mother kept glancing at the woman, wondering why she was there. Maybe she had lost someone near to her. Maybe that partner that she wrote about in her books. She did want to go talk to her, but this might not be the best time if she had just come here to reflect. She tried not to stare, but she did on occasion. She looked down to her son for a distraction. He was looking down the pool, and she followed his gaze. She noticed that he was looking at a tall, very good looking man, dressed in army fatigues walking towards them. The man had a smile that was as big as the pool itself as he neared them.
The mother looked over at Temperance Brennan just in time to see her look up and notice the man. She stood up so quickly that she knocked over the untouched coffee, but she didn't even notice. She started to move towards the man, but after a few steps she stopped.
The mother couldn't help but stare now. She sensed she was witnessing a reunion of some kind, and she couldn't look away if she wanted to now. Her head went back and forth between the two like she was watching a tennis match. She noticed her son's did too.
The man and the author took tentative steps towards each other. Both sizing each other up, both smiling as though their faces would crack. Neither of them noticed the mother and son watching them, though they stood right in front of them.
They were only feet apart when the man reached out his hand to the woman. She reached for him too, taking his hand in hers and finally closing the distance between them. They stood there, just holding hands for minutes. It could have been hours.
The mother could tell by the way they looked at each other that they were something special. That she was witnessing something special.
Within the blink of an eye, the mother could never have told who made the first move; they were locked in a kiss so passionate that it stole her breath away. Her heart lurched in her chest at the feelings for each other that emanated from the couple standing in front of her. She was definitely witnessing something special.
The two remained fused in the kiss for an unknown amount of time because time seemed to have stopped in that moment. The world stopped with that kiss.
The mother sighed and her son looked up at her with a smile. Up until that moment, he had thought that kissing girls was gross, but even his young mind could tell that this was not just any kiss. He tugged his mother's sleeve. She looked down at him.
"It's rude to stare mom." He said it with a smile, and his mother smiled back down at him again.
"You're right. Do you want to go get some ice cream?"
The couple had ended their kiss and were walking hand in hand back to the bench where the author had sat for so long, waiting for him.
"Sure Mom, but there's something I want to do first…" He got off the bench and started walking towards the couple.
His mother tried to grab his arm, but he was too quick.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm being brave for you Mom." He said it with a smile and walked right up to the man and woman. His mother was only steps behind wondering what her son was up to.
"My Mom is a big fan, and we were wondering if we could have your autograph…"
The man in the fatigues made a sound and the boy looked up at him with surprise, thinking he was mad, but he only smiled. Temperance Brennan smiled as well and pulled a pen out of her pocket and reached for a napkin that had been wrapped around her unfinished coffee.
She spoke out loud as she wrote,
"Best wishes, from Doctor… Temperance…Brennan." She handed the napkin to the mother and smiled.
The man in the fatigues looked at them both and as if he could somehow tell that they were mourning a loss, as though he could feel it in his gut, he put one of his hands on each of their shoulders. He looked at them both with his brown eyes, and simply said,
"Thank you."
The mother and son both smiled back, and said to him in unison,
"No… thank you."
The mother took her son by the hand and led him away; as they went they heard the two start speaking.
"Bones… you spilled my coffee…"
"No Booth, I drank your coffee, I spilled mine…"
"Why did you bring me flowers? Is that one of your anthropological do-hickeys? For the woman to bring her man flowers after a year apart…"
"No, I brought them to put on Teddy's grave, but I thought that you might to do it. You missed the anniversary of his death this year… and what is a do-hickey?"
"Thanks Bones. You're all heart you know that…"
"I can't be all heart Booth… it's physically impossible to be…"
Their conversation faded away as the mother took one last glimpse behind her, and watched as the two walked the other way. The man put his hand on the small of Doctor Brennan's back and guided her back the way he had come from. Their heads were turned towards each other and she could see the smiles and the looks that passed between them.
She had picked a good day to come to the reflecting pool. She was happy to have witnessed the reunion, and left knowing that not everyone went there to mourn.
Some went there to start again.
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