The Brilliance of Fireflies

by Leslie Hauser

  “I told her, if seeing my granddaughter finish a race is going to kill me, well, then that’s the way I want to go out.”

  I laugh. “But how did you...” My voice trails off because I answer my own question. Mari.

  “We couldn’t let you finish the final goal alone,” Ryan says.

  I’m not sure what his presence here means or what’s going to happen with my other two dreams, but in this moment, I’m happy to lie back in the soft grass, let the sun beat down on my face, and feel the reality of this dream resting on my heart.

  Ryan brings over Grandma’s favorite Italian food tonight. Before we left the race, she invited him over for dinner, and since he kissed me goodbye on the cheek, I figured that we are at least friends. Grandma takes the food inside, but Ryan and I sit on the porch for a few minutes. He tells me everything. His dad moved out a couple of weeks ago. His little brother speaks to him, but Ryan won’t. His mom is doing okay. She’s sad, but Ryan says it’s almost like she’s relieved. She knew something had been going on. He says he’s sorry he distanced himself, but he was confused and trying to figure it all out. And then these past couple of weeks, he didn’t know what to say to me. He thought he’d blown his chance.

  I’m about to respond when he pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. My cheeks ignite at the sight of my note.

  “But then there was this.” He holds the letter I gave to Mari.

  My chin drops to my chest. Something about seeing it in his hands makes it seem stupid.

  A while ago in English class, Ms. Novak made us personify an emotion. It was the week of the one-year anniversary of the bombing. My family filled every space in my mind, so I chose to write about love. But as I described Love’s best friend Surprise and the parties they threw with Happiness and Comfort, I realized I was writing about Ryan as much as I was about my family.

  “It was just an English assignment. No big deal. We had to choose an emotion to personify.” I still can’t bear to look at him.

  “You chose love?” I know he’s teasing me, but I must be at least eighty shades of red by now.

  “No... I mean... yes, because of my family... and... it was...”

  “Dinner!” Thankfully Grandma’s call for dinner silences me.

  “You chose love,” he says more as a statement this time. We stand, and Ryan holds the door open. As I pass by, he leans in and whispers, “I love you, too.”

  We help Grandma set the table—I drop silverware all over the place thanks to my jumbled brain—and serve the food. When we’re seated and have filled our plates, Ryan and my grandma keep glancing in each other’s direction.

  “What’s with you guys?” I finally say.

  Grandma looks at Ryan, and he says, “Go ahead. I haven’t told her yet.”

  “Told me what?” I ask through a mouthful of garlic bread.

  “Well, Ryan and I had a little chat this morning, and it seems we’ve been planning the same thing.”

  “Planning what?”

  Grandma launches in with the news that she’s decided she wants to move back to Ohio, to Columbus specifically, to be near me at Ohio State. Cherise has helped her find a lovely assisted living home that is affordable and will still give her a lot of freedom.

  “Sure, I’ll miss my friends and this house.” She waves her hand around. “But it’s time to go home and be with my family.” She reaches out and puts a hand over mine. “I should have done that long ago.”

  “And I’m going to the Ohio State University!” Ryan blurts out.

  My eyes widen, and he explains that he applied on a whim because of me. The more he thought about it and what it had to offer, though, the more he thinks it’s a good opportunity for him.

  “I think it’ll be good to get away from here, too,” he says more quietly.

  I hear their voices and their words, but my mind jumps to a moment from the dinner table not long before that baseball game. We were all at the table—Mom, Dad, Connor, and me. Connor noticed a new hand-carved sign hanging on the wall to our right. The writing was in Greek, so I asked Dad what it said. He told us it said, “The family is the heart of the home.” Connor and I both giggled. But Mom told us it wasn’t just a cheesy cliché and that someday we’d understand.

  “If it’s not okay,” I hear Ryan’s panicked voice say, “we don’t have to see each other. I mean, I’m going to try to walk on to the basketball team, so I’ll be busy with that. And I’m not just going there because of you. They have a great veterinary program.”

  My eyes brighten. That’s something I’d discovered and gotten excited about.

  “And I won’t be in your business. I’ll keep my distance,” Grandma chimes in.

  “No, sorry.” They’ve read my silence as unhappiness. “I was just thinking about something my mom said to us once.” I smile at both of them. “I think it’s great. You guys are great.”

  Grandma’s shoulders relax, and she turns to Ryan. “Now you’re going to need a winter coat. Once Emma gets back from Greece, she’ll help you find the right one. Won’t you, sweetheart?”

  She faces me and I nod.

  “And the snow,” she continues. “The snow can be something else. But those summers. Oh, you’ll have to stay out there for a summer. The fireflies come out at night—well, her grandfather and I always called them lightning bugs—and they’re Emma’s favorite. Do you know about fireflies, Ryan?”

  He flashes a smile at me. “Yes, ma’am. I know a little bit about fireflies.”

  Grandma continues to share the wonders and secrets of Ohio as Ryan listens patiently. I lean back and touch the race medal still around my neck, feel the butterflies of Ryan’s declaration of love, and realize my family isn’t gone. They’re right here at this table and forever in my heart.

  I look upward and nod. I’m good, Mom.

  I really am good.

  A Jar of Fireflies Whose Light Gave Me Strength

  Thank you always to my wonderful family for supporting me and helping me along my author journey. I am truly blessed.

  Thank you to my incredible friends who are always willing to read a new draft or buy a copy of my book or join me in my lottery dreams.

  Thank you to Dionne who was the first to believe in my writing and has continued to support me ever since. She is a champion of authors, a fabulous author coach, and an amazing designer.

  Thank you to every reader of my books. I am grateful for your support and feel privileged to have shared my fictional worlds with you.

  About the Author

  Leslie Hauser is a middle school teacher, runner, and cupcake enthusiast. She’s also the author of the young adult novel Chasing Eveline. She’s a Midwesterner at heart—born in Cincinnati, Ohio—but currently resides in Los Angeles, California, with her dog Mr. Darcy. Visit Leslie at www.lesliehauser.com