Page 19 of Meeting Up with the Mason

She whispered, “Don’t give up on archaeology. I’m not going to be the reason you lost something you love. You can have both.”

I said, “And when I travel away for three months to dig in the dirt…?”

She laughed. “Well, that’s how we started.”

“We?” I said.

“Yes,we.” She paused. “Although maybe I need to not quit my job if I’m the one earning the barley for both of us.”

I said, “We’ve got time. Once they get you out of that car, we’ll have lots of time.”

She said, “Time…and BRBs?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about archaeology, it’s that we’ll always have BRBs. Hey!” I sat up. “You can’t see this, but guess who’s here?”

“Gilgamesh?”

I laughed. “That would be exciting for me, not for you. It’s the power company!”

Serving as Alyssa’s eyes, I narrated as the Eversource crew isolated the downed pole, then cut power to the block. The firemen sprang into action, and ten minutes later, they had the tree trunk in pieces, and the door off the sedan, and Alyssa out the back.

I ran through the rain, and she rushed into my arms. I kissed her hard, kissed her again, kissed her a third time while she kept shaking. “You,” I breathed. “Oh, you.”

We’d have to shelter in the truck to get out of the storm. We’d need to retrieve her bag and drive home so she could stay in a house without a tree on it. We’d have to figure out a lot of things, but for right now, I only had to figure out how to hold her and love her, from now until forever.

Epilogue

Alyssa

Icheered when the university president called Chip’s name. Beaming, Chip walked across the stage to shake the president’s hand, then accepted his diploma from the dean.

Two years, countless MeetSpace calls, lots of airline miles, a million texts—and now two hours of speeches followed by Chip over the moon with pride.

After the graduates processed out of the stadium, I threaded my way through the crowd with Chip’s parents, aiming for the arts and humanities quad, where we’d meet up by the founder’s statue.

I texted him. “It may take a while. Families keep blocking the path to take pictures.”

His reply appeared: “Sounds like Cape traffic to me.”

Chip’s mom said, “I missed what you were saying to Andrew about the new exhibit.”

“Oh, that.” I beamed. “We’re featuring a Canadian jeweler who makes art with chain mail! She creates gowns and headdresses and collars. I got one look at her work and knew we needed to feature her.”

Chip’s mom raised her eyebrows. “That does sound fascinating! How did you find her?”

“My great skills at lead generation?” I snickered. “I’d love for you to see the exhibit before it all goes back to Canada.”

The crowd thinned out at the arts quad, and they aimed toward the statue at the center. Chip’s dad said, “That ceremony went long. I hope we don’t lose our reservation.” He stopped. “I’d better call the restaurant.”

I caught sight of Chip and waved. “There he is!”

Chip’s mom nudged me forward. “We’ll catch up.”

I ran until I landed in his arms. “Congratulations, Doctor MacElroy!”

He spun me around. “I couldn’t have done it without you!”

I rested my cheek against the stiff cotton of his academic regalia. “I’m so proud of you—of everything you’ve accomplished.”

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