Serial: Down the River – Epilogue

I’m finally revisiting the characters from The River City Chronicles nine years after their original timeline. I’ll be running the series weekly here on my blog, and then will release it in book form at the end of the run. Hope you enjoy catching up with all your faves and all their new secrets!

Today, that’s all, folks! Hope you enjoyed it.

< Read Chapter 63

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Epilogue

Three months later

Ben knelt next to the young oak tree where Sam had scattered Brad’s ashes just a few months before. It was a warm late-summer morning, the kind that made you want to sleep in and get up after noon.

The sun’s rays slanted down through the tree’s branches, and it was strangely quiet. No birds sang, and Effie Yaw Nature Center was all but abandoned. Only the American River murmured in the background, a soft counterpoint to the otherwise quiet morning.

As if the whole world stopped in her honor.

Lorelei knelt next to him, a hand on his shoulder. Even her two kids were silent, as if they too felt the solemnity of the moment. They had taken to calling his mother grandma, and they had cried too when she had passed away a week before.

For himself, he preferred they just call him “Ben.” Garrett, for all his faults, was still their father, and Ben had no desire to come between him and his kids.

“Are you ready?” Lorelei’s luminous eyes met his.

He nodded. “I think so.” The funeral was over, and the memorial. Emily had passed from this life on her own terms—in his home, surrounded by Ben, Lorelei, and his friends. “She’s not hurting anymore.”

He had wept for days. He hadn’t known he had such feelings left in him for her, the woman who had hurt him so badly when he was a kid, trying to figure himself out. But she was his mother. She’d paid the price, and she had found her way back to him to earn her redemption in her final days.

My mama. And now she was gone.

He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back more tears, and felt Lorelei’s hand on his shoulder.

Time to let her go. 

He uncapped the urn, looking down at all that was left of his mother. He looked at Lorelei, who nodded. “Goodbye, mama,” he whispered, and gently sprinkled her ashes around the base of the tree. 

Somewhere down there, underneath the top layer of soil and fallen leaves, Brad’s ashes were already becoming a part of the soil, nurturing the young oak. Now his mother’s would join them. Ben liked the idea of the two of them becoming friends in the afterlife.

Lorelei reached into the bag of potting soil they’d purchased on the way over to the park, and sprinkled it lightly over her ashes, sealing them into the ground.

He closed his eyes, saying a little prayer to send her spirit on its way. He wasn’t a big believer, but just then, it felt right. Mama, I’m grateful for the time we had. And I’m thankful that we found our way back to one another before the end. Now you can be free from all the pain.

He’d finally used up the last of Ella’s old yellow bottle of shampoo, letting the ghost of her go. In a few days he and Lorelei would take her dream trip. Paris, London, and Milan. It was time to start living again.

Ben felt Max leaning over his shoulder. “Are you guys done yet? I’m hungry.”

Mia chimed in from behind him. “Can we get In-N-Out?”

Ben laughed. Apparently their patience with ceremony had worn thin. He cherished the reminder that life still went on. “Only if I can have a chocolate milkshake!” He stood and brushed the dust off his jeans.

With one last look at the beautiful tree, he took Lorelei’s hand, and stepped into their new life.

#

Five months later

“We are fortunate to have the artist of this amazing new piece here with us today. Jun Seo Jang has spent the last few months here in Northern California, working on the masterpiece we’re about to reveal. Let’s give them a big welcome.”

The crowd applauded politely.

Ainsley squeezed Marissa’s hand. “I can’t believe we’re here.” They were at the back of the large crowd, made up of some of the finest-dressed people she’d seen in her life, that had gathered in the huge atrium at the War Memorial Opera House in the heart of San Francisco. The giant artwork that she had helped Jun Seo with was at the front, covered by a red velvet cloth.

Five months earlier, she’d been a college student studying for a life in the lab. Now she was an assistant to a world-famous artist, and had been working on some art of her own on the side. with Jun’s blessing.

Jun took the stage, gesturing with their hands to tamp down the sound of clapping. “I want to thank the board of the Opera House and the people of San Francisco and Northern California for your warm welcome. You have all been amazing, and I feel like this is my second home.”

More applause.

“I’ve felt newly energized by my time spent here creating this piece. But before I reveal it to all of you extremely patient folks…”

There was a smattering of laughter.

“…I have one more person to thank. Ainsley Kim, would you please come up to the stage?” They flashed her a wicked grin across the atrium.

Ainsley felt all the blood drain out of her face. “Me?” she squeaked.

Marissa nodded. “Yes, you. Come on!” She dragged Ainsley through the crowd, toward the stage. When they reached the stairs, Marissa kissed her cheek and gave her a friendly shove. “Go show them who Ainsley Kim really is. I believe in you.”

Ainsley mounted the stage, barely managing to avoid stumbling, her heart pounding at least two hundred beats a minute.

Jun smiled at her. They had been nothing but kind and supportive over the last five months, even offering helpful critiques on her own work. They turned back to the audience. “Friends and future friends, you have before you an amazing up-and-coming artist. Ainsley came to me and offered her assistance, and she has been a terrific support for someone as disorganized as me, but one day she will be the one up on a stage like this revealing her own work.”

The crowd clapped appreciatively.

Jun took a step back, leaving her to say… something.

I didn’t prepare anything. “I…” Her hands were shaking.

She looked over at Marissa. Their eyes met, and she nodded. Show them.

Ainsley cleared her throat, squared her shoulders, and spoke. “I am grateful to be here.” She gazed out over the patrons of the Opera house. “Working with Jun Seo was the fulfillment of a lifetime dream. I am so proud of them, and so thankful for their support.” What elsewas there  to say?

Jun leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

They nodded.

Well. All right then. “It is my honor to reveal Jun Seo Jang’s newest piece, for installation right here in the San Francisco War Memorial Opera House. It’s called Pacific Hills, and it blends the artistic style of their native home of South Korea with artists from the Sierra Foothills.” She lifted her arm theatrically, pointing at the painting, and the cover dropped away.

It was breathtaking—somehow in the grand atrium, it looked even more impressive than it had in the barn up in the foothills. Like it belongs here.

Bright golden hills soared above a village that could have been somewhere in Korea or a gold-country town like Amador or Sutter, places they had both spent time in while Jun was searching for inspiration. The colors were bold and exciting, and the combination of styles spoke to a unity between nations, between people, that sent a thrill up her spine.

The room exploded into applause as the patrons leapt to their feet to express their appreciation.

Marissa bounded up on stage and hugged her. “You did it!”

“We did it.” It had been a long and scary road, but somehow together they had found their way.

After the party, they planned to spend a couple days in the City, starting with a Tales of the City tour in the Castro. But for now, she was happy just to be where she was, when she was, with the woman who mattered to her most in all the world. “Love you, ‘Riss.”

For her response, Marissa kissed her in front of God, the golden hills, and the patrons of the War Memorial Opera House, sending a thrill up her back. “Love you too.”

“Right here is where I want to stay, forever.” Life is sweet.

“What’s stopping us?”

Ainsley grinned. What, indeed?

But no matter what happened or where they went, as long as they had each other, she would be content.

#

Seven months later

Giovanni was on top of the world.

As part of his journey from his father’s employee to running his own restaurant, he’d decided to go by his full Italian first name as a way to honor his mother and his Italian heritage. But his old friends often still called him Gio.

He stood a few steps up on the stairway that led to the building’s upper floor—and the restaurant’s training kitchen and his own office—and surveyed what he, Stella, Sole and his parents had accomplished. The restaurant felt modern but warm, just like Ragazzi. Ainsley, with Jun Seo Jan’s help, had created four stunning murals, each depicting an Italian city scene. His favorite was Bologna, which depicted the old house in the cemetery where his mother was buried, but refurbished and made new.

The grand opening was in full swing. A string quartet out on the boardwalk in front of Amici played Italian favorites—they were currently working through a rather inspired version of Funiculi-Funicolà—but later they would play some more contemporary songs rendered as classical music à la Bridgerton.

His friends and family were all there, having driven up from Sacramento and other parts of the valley for this special occasion. Stella had gone home months earlier, and had returned especially for the grand opening. Sole, instead, had stayed out her entire six-month traveler’s visa, plus a a two-week extension. She was in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. He wasn’t sure how he was going to replace her when she left, but she’d tsk tsk’d his worries away. “You’ll be just fine.”

“You should be so proud of yourself.” Brianna kissed him, her hand finding his as she surveyed the scene. She’d come on as a consultant, having left a career at the library a few years before to do something exciting on her own. But she had quickly become more to him than just a business associate.

“I am. Believe me, I am. But I couldn’t have done this without all of these people.” He’d reserved the grand opening for friends and family, his way of thanking them for all that they had done for him. Papà and Babbo, his best friend Marissa and Ainsley, Sole and Stella, Marcos and Dave, Sam and Oscar—so lovely to see them together at last. Ben and Lorelei, Ricky and Alyn, and so many others.

The world was turning in strange ways. Things were happening outside these walls that were unsettling, events which made him sick with fear and rage if he thought about them for too long. Sometimes he no longer recognized his adopted country.

But for this night, here in this sacred place, everything was warm and bright and good. Alla tavola, non si invecchia. One of his favorite sayings—at the table, no one grows old. 

Brianna frowned. “Why is that table empty? I thought we filled every seat?” The one empty table in the place really did stand out.

Giovanni nodded. “We did. Those seats are for the ones we lost. May they rest in peace, and may we never forget them.”

“That’s beautiful.” She squeezed his hand.

He could feel them there with him too, and if he squinted, he could almost make them out.

Sam’s husband Brad. Ben’s wife Ella. Arthur, Carmelina’s first husband. Diego’s and Matteo’s parents. And his own dear mother, Luna. Their approval warmed his heart.

He felt someone’s eyes on him. Papà was looking at him.

Their eyes met. Diego’s glance flicked to Brianna and back, and Giovanni’s father smiled and gave him a thumb’s up.

He laughed and returned the gesture.

Brianna put a hand on his shoulder. “You ready?”

He nodded. “Come with me?”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” She kissed his cheek, and then led him down the stairs.

He picked up a glass of red wine and knife from the sideboard where he’d set them for the occasion, and clinked the side of it, capturing everyone’s attention.

The room went silent, and everyone turned toward the two of them.

He held up the glass, a broad smile spreading across his face. This is it. “Friends and family, welcome to Amici.”

< Read Chapter 63

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Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.