Epilogue
Bonnie stood in the doorway to her grandfather's suite and surveyed the quiet scene before her. Booth was ensconced in his favorite recliner, feet up, eyes closed, chest rising and falling in a steady, gentle rhythm. His face was peaceful, the hint of a smile on his lips suggesting he was enjoying a particularly pleasant dream. She didn't have the heart to disturb him, and was retreating into the hall when the unwieldy bag she carried slipped off her shoulder and landed with a thud on the floor.
Booth started, his eyes flying open as he looked about himself, disoriented. Then, spying Bonnie in the doorway, he broke into a groggy smile and straightened in his chair. "Well, lookee here," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. "It's been a while, Bonbon! Come in, come in."
She toed the fallen bag out of the way and toted her other burden into the room. "I didn't mean to wake you," she apologized.
He dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "I was just resting my eyes." As she approached, he reached up to take her squirming bundle from her, and when she'd placed it in his arms, he cooed, "There she is! My very favorite great-grandbaby!"
"Don't let Hudson hear you say that." She bent and planted a kiss on his cheek. "He thinks he reigns supreme."
"Never you mind that, Celia Rose," Booth enjoined the wide-eyed infant on his lap. "He may be the prince of the land, but you're the princess. There's no competition."
Ceelee, as she was more familiarly known, studied her great-grandfather's face, her lips slowly curling in delight around the fingers in her mouth. She was a sturdy little munchkin, with a cap of fine brown hair, chubby cheeks, her father's clear gray eyes, and Bonnie's own round chin. In honor of her outing, she was sporting a rose-bedecked velvet headband and a floral-print smocked dress courtesy of Grandma Christine. When she was well-rested, as she was at the moment, she had the sweetest disposition imaginable, and beguiled everyone in the family from her great-granddad down to and including two-year-old Hudson. As for Bear and Danny, she might as well have hung the moon.
Booth experimented with releasing Ceelee's waist, prepared to catch her if she toppled. "Well, will you look at that," he said, when she maintained her balance. "She's sitting up all on her own!"
"Yep. She's hit all her six-month milestones."
The words came out a trifle flat, earning her one of Booth's penetrating looks. "Something up? You sound a little blue." When Bonnie didn't immediately answer, he went on, "That husband of yours better not be giving you trouble!"
"No, no! Talk about princesses! You know Bear spoils me." Bonnie dragged up a nearby ottoman, and, settling down on it, allowed herself a sigh. "It's just… today's my last day of maternity leave. I go back to work on Monday."
"Ah!" Booth's expression softened with understanding. "You're not ready?"
"I am, and I'm not." She captured one of Ceelee's little fists and, raising it to her lips, pressed a kiss to the tiny knuckles. "I hate the thought of being apart from her but, at the same time, I'm itching to get back in the workroom. I've missed it, missed being around other adults, doing challenging work."
He nodded. "I remember Grammy struggling with the same conflicting emotions, especially with Christine. She could hardly stand to put her down, but she was also in demand at the lab." He regarded her with sympathy. "It's tough at first, but it gets easier with time. What helped, in our day, was that the Jeff offered child care on site. Is that still an option?"
"Yes, but we're more comfortable with our friend Caro Jolicœur looking after her. Ceelee already knows and likes her, and there's the advantage that she and Danny will have more time together during the day." She drew herself up, and, skewing resolutely more cheerful, went on, "But enough about that! What's new with you? How're you feeling?"
"Can't complain," he said, giving the question short shrift as usual. "As for news, now, I do have a little nugget, but first, how's the family? Baer get that promotion he was expecting?"
"Yes, it's official: Dr. Cummings will be retiring in May, and Bear will take over as head of the department."
"Good for him. And Danny? Still doing well in school?"
"Really well. Straight As on his last report card."
"And his mother's getting remarried, right? How's he taking that?"
"He's happy that she's happy, and doesn't seem too bothered that she'll be moving to California. Val never did sue to get custody back, you know. I think it suited her, plus it was better for Danny, for him to go on living with Bear, and now she says she's fine with keeping in touch via Skype and having him come stay with her for a few weeks in the summer."
"So, in essence, he's yours and Baer's to raise? I'm glad. You know I couldn't be fonder of that boy if he were my own flesh-and-blood great-grandson."
"I know. And he feels the same about you. I don't dare let it slip I came here today without him. He'd be very upset."
"Well, he won't hear it from me, then. And speaking of secrets…"
For reasons known only to herself, Ceelee decided at the moment to break into a bouncy dance and might've tumbled from Booth's lap if he hadn't immediately steadied her. Bonnie spread a blanket on the floor, and, plopping Ceelee in the center, removed an assortment of toys and stuffed animals for her bag and set them out within her daughter's easy reach. "That should hold her for a while," she said, returning to her ottoman. "You were saying…?"
He held up an admonishing finger. "This is strictly confidential. You can't let on I told you."
"All right. Mum's the word."
"It's Eddie and Deena. She had an ultrasound yesterday."
"So soon?"
"She's five months along."
"Already? I've completely lost track of time! And?"
"And everything's fine. The baby has all his fingers and toes…"
"His? It's a boy?"
A wide smile creased Booth's face. "So Eddie tells me."
"Well, that is news! I'll bet Eddie's overjoyed! And you! You get another great-grandson to carry on the family name!"
Some of Booth's pleasure faded. "As to that, it's not a done deal. You know Deena. She may've given in on getting a place together, but she's still drawing the line at marriage, and she's insisting on the baby having her last name."
Bonnie gave her grandfather's arm a comforting pat. "Eddie'll sort it out. Maybe they can agree on a hyphenated name. Booth-Clemens has a nice ring to it."
"She'll probably hold out for Clemens-Booth," he grumbled.
"Well, whatever he's called, we'll all love him to death. A Booth by any other name is still a sweetheart."
Deena's pregnancy had been only the latest glad tidings in a year full of joyful news. The previous spring and summer, Bonnie's calendar had been chockablock with bridal showers and weddings, followed in the autumn and winter by gender-reveal parties, baby showers and christenings. Trev's June wedding to Vanna had been the grandest event of them all, as Sam and Mason Greeley had spared no expense to give their eldest an extravagant ceremony and lavish reception. In the early planning stages, Bonnie'd been asked and had happily agreed to be one of Vanna's six attendants, but five months before the big day, having discovered she was pregnant and would doubtless be showing, she'd felt obliged to back out. Vanna, though, would hear none of it, and so there Bonnie was sticking out in all the formal photos, her bump barely disguised by her empire-waist dress. Vanna liked to joke that Ceelee had been a member of her wedding party, a very junior bridesmaid.
"What do you hear from Rosa?" Booth asked, breaking into her thoughts. "Any luck with the house-hunting?"
Bonnie nodded. "She's put in an offer on a property in Bethesda and is waiting to hear." Her elderly husband having passed away the year before, and her stepchildren and step-grands all being past the age of needing her, Rosa had decided to relocate, permanently, to the States so as to be able to play a more active role in Danny and Ceelee's lives. "If it's accepted, she'll probably make the move sometime this summer."
"I know one person," Booth volunteered, "who won't be glad of that development."
Bonnie frowned. "You mean Bear? Because, really, he's all right with it. He and Rosa still have a ways to go, but they've mostly mended their fences."
"That's good to hear it, for both their sakes, but, no, I was actually thinking of your mom. Christine's gotten used to having the grandkids all to herself. She's not going to like having to compete for their time and attention."
"It'll make for a change," Bonnie allowed, "but she'll adjust. Mom's nothing if not fair. Where is she, anyway? I thought she'd be here."
Booth stole a glance at the clock. "She had a one o'clock meeting with her editor about the latest Kathy Reichs book. It must be running long."
Bonnie grimaced. "I hope that's not a bag sign. She hates having to do major rewrites. Which reminds me…" She swung back to her overstuffed bag, and, unzipping one of the outer pockets, fished out a softcover book. "I brought this to show you."
He took it from her, his face lighting up at the cover art. "It's Lebrun's Coupe d'amour! 'A Model Love,'" he read aloud, "by Meg Magill." His eyes flashed up to hers. "Is this it? The novel you told me about? The one based on Madeleine's life?"
She grinned. "It is. That's an advanced reader's copy Meg sent me as a courtesy."
"And have you read it? Is it any good?"
"Well, let's just say she really fleshes the story out, but then, as it's fiction, she's allowed to take liberties, and she stays true enough to the historical facts to suit me." She tipped her chin in the book's direction. "I bookmarked a page and starred a passage I thought you might particularly like."
He opened the book to just inside the back cover and, finding the marked paragraph, read, "I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Bonnie Booth-Hodgins of the Jeffersonian Institute and her associates Seeley Booth, Angela Montenegro and Richard de Clermont for their work in bringing the untold story of the historical Madeleine Chiasson to light. Without their efforts, her remarkable life journey might have remained forever lost to time, and this novel unwritten. I am deeply grateful for the inspiration as well as for their generosity in sharing their research and expertise with me." He looked up from the page with satisfaction. "Very nice. And no more than you deserve!"
Ceelee, having exhausted the entertainment value of her toys, began to make a fuss, and, as luck would have it, it was at that very moment that Christine walked through the door. She spared a reproachful look for her father and daughter, and, springing into action, scooped Ceelee up off the floor. "Were grandpa and mommy ignoring you, sweet pea?" she cooed, jiggling Ceelee in her arms. "Well, Grammy's here now, so don't you fret. May I say you're looking mighty pretty in that dress. Yes, you are! Yes, you are!"
Ceelee once pacified, freshly diapered and given a bottle, Christine was at last content to settle in for a chat. They touched on various and sundry topics: on Junior's settling in to his latest assignment as an environmental consultant, on Max's continuing adventures as an undergrad at Yale, on the rumor that Freya Wyndham-Pryce was considering a run for the U. S. Senate seat soon to be vacated by James Aubrey. They talked until, the afternoon light having faded, Bonnie judged it was time she and Ceelee headed home. Christine pressed her to stay for supper — she could message Bear and Danny to join them, they could do take-out, it would be no problem — but Bonnie took a raincheck; she'd already stayed longer than she'd intended.
She repacked her bag, and, when she was done, Booth insisted over Bonnie's objections on getting up out of his chair to say his good-byes. Christine rose, too, but, Ceelee having dozed off against her shoulder, she postponed her own farewells by offering to carry her down to the car.
Left alone, Booth and Bonnie shared a long parting hug. When they drew apart, he brushed a kiss on her forehead, and said, "Thanks for coming to see me."
"No," she countered with a smile, "Thank you for cheering me up on my last day of leave. There's no one I'd rather have spent it with."
He was pleased, but hid it behind a gruff laugh. "Well, you'd better get on out of here. You'll get stuck in traffic otherwise."
She hefted the heavy bag onto her shoulder. "I think that ship's already sailed! Bye, Gramps. Love you."
"Love you, too, Sweet Tart."
She was nearly out the door when he called her name. Pausing on the threshold, she turned back to him, her brows raised in question. "Mm?"
"Nothing. Only… don't be a stranger, now."
"Gramps!" She broke into an impish grin, and, eyes laughing into his, said on a teasing note, "That would never happen!" She blew him a final kiss, and, stepping out into the hall, was gone.
