Epilogue

Eighteen Months Later

"How's Erica liking her graduation present?" Bob asked, speaking up to make himself understood over the noise coming from the other end of the phone line.

"Oh, she loves it," Will replied. "What do you think? We had to extend our stay in Paris for two days because we sort of underestimated the size of the Louvre. You should have seen her--it was like locking a toddler in a candy store."

"I can imagine," Bob laughed. "What's all that noise in the background? Sounds like a concert hall full of people."

"We're at Gare du Nord, about to hop on the Chunnel train. We'll be in London tonight and tomorrow, and then we're heading up to Scotland."

"Are you sure she's not in the way? I mean, this is your honeymoon, after all."

"No, not at all, Bob. We had two weeks in Tuscany before we picked her up in Rome. Plus, she has her own hotel room anyway."

"Well, good," Bob said. "Glad she's having fun over there in Euro-land. You watch her like she's yours, okay?"

"Goes without saying, Bob. You want to talk to her?"

"Love to."

There was the sound of a phone being shuffled around, and more background noise from what sounded like the middle of the departure hall at Hartsfield International on the day before Thanksgiving.

"Hey, daddy," Erica said into the phone.

"Hey, baby. Enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, yeah. Paris is awesome. Of course, Rome was awesome, too."

"Don't forget Vienna and Munich," Claire said in the background, and Bob could hear Will laugh.

"You earned it," Bob said. "I still think they cheated you out of valedictorian. Graduating a year early, with a 4.0?"

"The other girl had a better weighted GPA, dad. Plus, her father is the county mayor, or something."

"Whatever. They cheated."

"Who cares, dad?" Erica laughed. "I'm off to Dartmouth in the fall, and she's going to UT. Bet you fifty bucks she'll get knocked up by some frat boy before she graduates."

"You're on. Let me have Uncle Will again, will you?"

"Sure thing. Love you, dad."

"Love you, too."

The phone changed hands once more, and Will was back on the line, still laughing at a comment Claire made in the background.

"Hey, Bob--I forgot to tell you, congratulations on that Pulitzer. They finally gave it to someone worthy for a change."

"How do you know about that already? They only announced it yesterday, and you're skipping around in Paris."

"They have this thing called the Internet now," Will said. "You can get instant worldwide news on it. You should check into it."

"Very funny. Are you sure you're not still pissed off at them for not giving it to a real writer?"

"The Pulitzer? Hell, no. Hey, hon, can I have one of those, too?"

"What?"

"Oh, never mind. Erica used her French language skills to get us a bag of croissants from some bakery stand here. Anyway, they did give the Pulitzer to a real writer. Hey, our train is here--we have to run," Will interjected before Bob had a chance to reply.

"We'll call you guys from London. Say hi to Christa for us, will you?"

"Alright," Bob chuckled. "Have fun. We love you guys."

"Right back at you."