Epilogue

On the day after Lindsey's graduation, her mother received a letter telling her that: A) the method that Caroline tried to raise her with was seriously screwed up, B) for that reason Lindsey did not care to see her mother again, and C) Since Lindsey was 18, there wasn't a damn thing Caroline could do about it.

Well, Caroline was sure there was indeed something that she could do about it, but the police informed her that since her daughter was 18, there was nothing they could do. She did hire four different detectives, but every time a detective got close to Lindsey, they would find themselves suddenly in a dark place, effortless carried to some distant point, and then released, unharmed, a bit disoriented, and oddly, missing their socks and shoes.

When Jimmy returned to the Foundation, Dan Mayo didn't know what to think about Jimmy turning down a sponsorship to go to Crimea, but instead turned the focus of his research from early Roman-Celtic interactions to the study of Celtic myths and legends. Jimmy even had a theory that there might be a link between the Celts of Europe and the civilization on Crete, whose destruction by a volcano was the basis for the myth of Atlantis. Jimmy's excavations brought to light plenty of details that revealed the living habits of the ancient Celts. But Jimmy seemed ... changed. Nothing unusual, just always seemed in the right place at the right time. When Dan Mayo retired, it just seemed natural for Jimmy to slide into his place. No one considered it odd that Jimmy would be running the Foundation's field operations by the age of 35. On the contrary, Jimmy always seemed to know what was going on, regardless of where he was or what he was doing. Always. But as bosses went, Jimmy was an easy going boss and no one really wanted to do anything that made him less easy going.

Lindsey, through a scholarship and a Foundation Study, got a degree in Irish Studies. There were actually one or two people at her college who had went to high school with her who didn't realize that the two women with the same name were one of the same. How could they be? The Lindsey Dunham they knew in high school was non-descript, forgotten as soon as she left the room. This one ... she had dark eyes that always sparkled, a laugh that could be heard across campus, and when not in class, seemed to be always holding court with dozen of friends and a few hopeful admirers who had taken notice of her figure and hoped to maybe sample it a little bit more intimately.

Such was not to be. Lindsey might flirt outrageously, but her heart and all the rest of her belonged to one G. James O'Brien, whom she called Dutch while in the company of his family. The two got married after she graduated and before and after that magical date, he doted on here. And with his uncanny ability to pick stocks, bonds and futures, he could afford to do quite some doting.

Occasionally, one of Lindsey's girlfriends would ask how she kept Jimmy "in check." Lindsey smiled and said, "I keep him eating out of the palm of his hand." The girlfriend would correct her and say she meant to say eating out of the palm of her hand. Lindsey would give her a secret smile and say, "I suppose I do."

On the second night of their honeymoon in Jamaica, Lindsey looked lovingly at her new husband as they sat relaxing in a bar, a steel drum band playing. An odd look crossed her husband's face.

"What is it, Jimmy?"

"Nothing, dearest, nothing."

"Come out with, Jimmy, you'll know I'll get it out of you sooner or later."

"Well, it's silly, but ... well, you know, after the first night that I--"

James looked around, then held his hands 2 feet apart and drew them closer to six inches apart. Lindsey blushed and grinned simultaneously at that particular memory.

"Well, ever since that night, I get the oddest feeling of deja vu every time I hear this song."

On stage the singer was belting out, "Come on out, come on in..."