EPILOGUE:Harper
NOVEMBER 2007
“Crack it like this,” Finn said as he pulled on garden gloves at the lake’s edge and opened a thorny moonflower pod. Then he spilled dozens of seeds into their glass jar.
Harper clipped another ripe pod and split it.
“Well done,” he said, grinning at her. “Be careful not to jab your hand on the thistles.”
The brittle plants were certainly prickly enough to ward off predators, but it was a wonder that these grimy brown pods were guardians of new life.
She shook the moonflower seeds into a jar. “We’re going to have the most beautiful moon garden.”
Next year. If she was still in Pennsylvania, of course.
The autumn months had been good for her mind and soul as she continued to rent Olivia’s bedroom, bath, and office from the estate. Deidre gave her full use of the kitchen, and Finn allowed her to roam freely outside as long as she texted the security guard first.
Moonflower Lakecontinued its run in theaters as revised editions of Via Belle books sold steadily online and in bookstores, with a full display at The Book Barn. Over the next ten years, Herring & Son would release all of Olivia’s recently discovered manuscripts including the poetry collection.
Smashing,one reviewer wrote aboutMoonflower Lakewhich pleased Isadore immensely. Not all the critics were so kind, but last Harper checked, the movie hovered at eighty percent on Rotten Tomatoes which was indeedsmashingnews for her.
She had no intention of watching Tony Bates’s rendition ofBefore I Sleep, but his movie made more money at the box office thanMoonflower Lake. Last week Kelsey texted her a review of his film. While the story mostly worked, it read, the film needed more heart.
Poor Miles. He had a permanent home with her.
Also, not that she was gloating, butBefore I Sleepwas a solid seventy-five on the Tomatometer.
Harper emptied another pod of seeds into the jar, her gaze drifting across the lake and forest. So peaceful in the late afternoon light with pockets of autumn wildflowers still blooming in the trees. This place of her dreams had become a nightmare when investigators found Simon’s remains, but she’d begun to find beauty again as Olivia’s moonflowers reflected the night. The surprise of redemption shining boldly in the darkest hours.
The whistle of a freight train echoed over the hill, firmly on the rails as it sped through town. She hadn’t told Finn yet, but this place felt like home to her. The people. The lake. The house filled with women and children who were finding their place in the world.
While she’d spent much of her life trying to polish her own story, the truth was, she was plenty broken in places and that was okay. Her family was working together to mend the chasm, God weaving them back together for something good. Uncle Jim had sent her a new Delvenotebook, and she’d begun brainstorming another idea for Sissie on the pages.
Finn nudged her. “Harper?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t suppose you heard me.”
“Sorry,” she said, pointing to her head.
“I know.” He laughed. “Off and wandering again.”
“I’m trying, Finn. Really.”
He placed the shears on the ground and tipped her chin until she met his gaze. “Don’t try on my account.”
“But I want to be present.”
“Better yet,” he said, settling on the grass beside her. “Why don’t you take me with you?”
She took off her gloves and tapped her palm. “Confidentiality first, please.”
He traced his name on her skin. “I won’t tell a soul.”
So she shared the seed of her story idea, one that needed to be planted for a season before it could sprout and grow.
“I like it,” he said, wrapping her hand in his.
