Escape Velocity

Chapter Twenty-seven

Before hitting send, I deleted the email to my parents. If they were interested in the outcome of the NASA program, if they cared, they could ask. They knew when Parallax was scheduled to end. For sure, they'd heard President Auburn's speech and learned about the Parallax connection to the extraterrestrial signal. They'd be just as happy to let Gram and Gramp deal with me. Win-win for everyone. And it was better if they didn't know I disobeyed them about the diary. They wouldn't be happy about that.

Gramp's condition wasn't great, but his meds had been adjusted and were finally showing promise. His Alzheimer's was still a thing, although it was manageable. For now.

Gram and Gramp were thrilled I'd been selected for the Junior Astronaut program. That was good enough for me. They were glad to know our house hadn't been broken into after all and they pretended to be mad about my late-night trip to Alexandria because I didn't stop by to see them and introduce them to "that Duncan boy." Gramp asked me to show him all the capabilities I had developed for Big Bird. After his "check under the hood," he said it needed a new name—ResQBot.

And Duncan, well, I'd have to wait and see about him. He was back in New York, not in the City, but upstate, in a boarding school. I might see him next summer. His father had offered me a job at Hidden Springs if I was interested.

At least I knew I'd be seeing Melisse and Christina again. For now, we were working out the details of creating a virtual robotics team so we could collaborate long-distance. Fingers crossed. Melisse's role in the nanobe story had gone viral and she had been promised an internship with the Green Bank Nano Lab for next summer.

I waited until I returned home from Parallax to share with Gramp the news about Ginevra, both the painting and the sister. I was anxious that the shock would be too much for Gramp. He was weak and used a special cane to move around. The house had been rearranged to accommodate him. Gram had moved the table out of the dining room into storage and had moved their bed in. For privacy, I helped hang old barn doors in the wide openings, one to the kitchen and one to the living room. Guests had to use the bathroom upstairs, but it was better for Gramp to live on one floor for now.

Our original conversation about a possible sister had been months ago. I hoped he remembered. When I told Gramp about his sister and the painting, he was quiet so long I wasn't sure he'd heard me. Then he whispered, "Ginevra?"

"Yes. And Ginevra didn't do it intentionally, but she named her son after you. Dr. Brunello's first name is Stefano. We have a whole other family in Italy."

Then Gramp laughed. That same laugh that always let me know everything was okay.

"You're my own personal pink-haired Sherlock Holmes, aren't you? Solving a grand mystery. This is one of the best days of my life. I wish my mother could have seen this moment. I wish she could have known Ginevra survived. Do you know how remarkable you are?"

Gramp stood up and, leaning on his cane, danced the clog he used to do to wake me up on Christmas morning. He said clogging was in his DNA from his father's Irish side. I laughed, imagining what Ginevra, an old Italian woman, would think if she saw him dancing. I hadn't seen him that jazzed in months.

About that pink hair...actually it was closer to fuchsia.

~~~

After picking up his mother, Dr. Brunello was on his way from Dulles airport to my grandparents' house. He'd texted me that we should expect them soon, so I sat with Gramp while he waited.

Watching Gramp was like watching seasons change on fast-forward. His eyes misted, and seconds later, he'd chuckle. The diary was in his lap. His fingers wandered the edges of the cover and occasionally snuck between the pages as if reassuring himself it was real. He had a few pictures he'd stashed inside the diary, old black and white images. One was his mother at the railing of a ship. Another was a wedding photo of his mother and father. She wore the same dress in both, a floral print, but a corsage was pinned at her shoulder in the wedding photo.