It took Brennan a minute to notice the set of dark eyes anxiously searching through the sea of mourners. She immediately walked towards Daniel Oroyuma, wanting to make him feel welcome.
"Daniel, it's very nice of you to stop by" she said warmly, kissing the RN on the cheek. "We certainly weren't expecting you tonight. Between your family and the hospital you have so many obligations to attend to, Booth and I never guessed you'd have any free time to come to these types of events."
"Much as I would like to, I can't always; it depends on my work schedule. But I try, especially when I took care of the patient for a long time. Like I said before, for Mr. Hank, anything. So many people here," Dan commented. "Sometimes seniors don't have too many people left to mourn their passing. I always feel sad when I walk into empty funeral homes."
"Hank was very well liked by the residents at his nursing facility, and many of our work collegues are also stopping by to show their support for our family."
The anthropologist ventured a quick look at her husband. "It's good for Booth, having all these people here, even if he thinks he might be better off by himself."
"Yes, I'm sure it is. I know it's been hard for him losing his grandfather. Hard for you too, Dr. Brennan. How are you holding up?"
"Alright, I suppose," Brennan replied. "Death is an inevitability all human beings have to learn to accept, even if the lesson has to be routinely revisited because it's not a pleasant one to keep in mind. Besides, I need to remain as calm and supportive as I can for Booth. He wouldn't benefit from seeing me in any kind of emotional distress right now."
"You are a very loving wife; Agent Booth is a fortunate man. You have much ashe."
"Life force or spirit, in the Yoruba language. It's kind of you to think of me that way, even if I don't believe in the existence of souls."
"We have souls Dr. Brennan," Dan rebutted good-naturedly. "You, me, Agent Booth; all of us. And with a love as great as you and your husband share, I know your souls will meet again when it's time. Now, isn't that reason enough to want to believe?"
Daniel looked towards Hank's casket, his bright smile waning.
"Mr. Jasinski passed away this morning. His heart finally gave out."
Brennan shook her head.
"After all those invasive medical procedures, he came to share the same fate as Hank without having reaped a single benefit from his prolonged hospitalization" she intoned, unable to keep a trace of bitterness from seeping into her voice as she remembered the heavily intubated man. "I'll be sure to let Booth know. It might reinforce the notion that he did the right thing for his grandfather after all."
"God takes us when he wants us," Dan said philosophically. "No man can change that. There can be brief delays in the journey, but the departure date always comes. Oh," he said, pulling a small scapular with the customary image of Jesus on it out of his pocket; "I held on to this when they were taking Mr. Hank's body away. I was sure Agent Booth would want it."
"Yes, I'm sure he does. He's a very sentimental person. And that reminds me that I have a gift for you, Dan."
Brennan took a white envelope out of her purse and handed it to the nurse.
"Actually, it's from Booth and me. We were going to stop by the hospital tomorrow after the funeral to give it to you."
Perplexed, Dan unglued the top of the envelope and began reading the official-looking sheet of paper inside.
"The letter states that a full scholarship to the Georgetown University School of Medicine has been established in Hank's name for you whenever you're ready to take advantage of it," Brennan explained.
Dan's initial curiosity instantly turned to disbelief.
"No, no; I can't, Dr. Brennan. This is too much!" he gasped.
"It's not too much for someone as deserving as you" Brennan countered. "Of course, this isn't a guarantee that you will be admitted into the school's program; you will still have to do well in your entrance exams. However, I'm not the least worried about your ability to succeed in that endeavor as you have in so many others. I've spoken to Dean Steinholz, who is a personal friend of mine, and appraised him of your situation and the need for flexibility with your schedule. He agreed with me that you sound like an excellent candidate for a medical degree and also mentioned that accommodations are regularly made for working students."
"I don't know what to say...I don't expect anything when I watch over my patients. It feels wrong to accept something like this in exchange for what I did. Anyone could have taken care of Mr. Booth."
Brennan tilted her head, giving Dan a knowing half-smile.
"Not just anyone, and certainly not with your degree of kindness and devotion. Booth and I recognize excellence when we see it, and we have definitely seen it in you. Besides, this isn't for what you did for Hank; it's for what you can do for so many others in the future, both patients and those medical residents who might come to apprentice under you. Your talents should definitely reach a greater audience. Please accept it; it would make us very happy. I'm sure it would have made Hank happy."
Still shell-shocked, Dan looked over to where Booth stood talking to some friends. Seeing the nurse, Booth issued a thumbs-up and Dan waved shyly in return.
"Yes," Dan stammered, his reticence blossoming into another toothy grin. "Yes, thank you. I guess I've been putting it off for too long. If I wait any longer, it could very well never happen. Perhaps I will specialize in gerontology to honor Mr. Booth's memory. I will accept your gift but please allow me and my family to host you and yours at our home some time later this month for dinner. We'll have a Nigerian banquet ready for you; beef tsiri, peanut soup, peri peri chicken with coconut rice-everything under the sun. And bring your friends," he said gesturing towards Sweets and the crew from the lab.
Brennan hugged the stocky man.
"That sounds wonderful. We'll be looking forward to it."
After giving Booth and Dan a few minutes to talk in private, Brennan returned to her mate's side in time to see Mrs. Kelly heading their way. Wearing a sharp, green tailored suit in a shade true to her name, the elderly woman was progressing slowly through a field of somber outfits, her back perfectly straight even as she leaned heavily on her daughter's arm.
"Told you I'd be here. It's lovely-all the pictures of Hank, the flowers. I'm sure Hank is smiling from wherever he is."
"Yeah. Bones-" Booth shook his head, catching himself a little too late-"my wife took care of the flowers."
The elderly woman smiled at the sweet, familiar nickname.
"So vibrant and full of life, just like him."
"Birds of paradise, ginger and orchids," Brennan offered. "Booth didn't want the typical floral arrangements found at funeral homes. He said Hank didn't like them. It's also why he asked for donations to Hank's favorite charities in lieu of flowers."
"To avoid all those stale mums," Mrs. Kelly said. "Yes, your grandfather had some strong opinions on that; on everything, really," she laughed. "I think I'll take your lead, Temperance. Maureen" she said to her daughter, "take notes for when my time rolls around. Make sure you get all the flower names from Temperance."
Mrs. Kelly stared at the gallery of photos laid out on a nearby table. Hank at various stages of his life, with different people and in different places, but always the same, mischievous look and ever-present smile.
"So many things to miss about that wonderful man..."
As their visitor's voice trailed off in a tone that presaged tears, Brennan saw her husband's own misty eyes alight on one picture in particular. Pops in the hospital just two days before his death, tired and frail, but beaming proudly as Christine and little Hank snuggled on his lap.
So many things to miss about Hank for sure, but for one man especially, a giant chasm that would be exceedingly hard to bridge.
