Chapter 9 - NORA’S DEDICATION
At two in the afternoon, the backyard was littered with spent science kits, empty paper cups, and ten exhausted, happy eight-year-olds sitting on picnic blankets.
It was time for the cake.
Ethan and I carried the three-tiered masterpiece out to the picnic table under the shade of the large maple tree. The kids gasped in unison as the sun lit up the dark blue top tier and the sparkling silver planets.
Nora ran up to the table, her lab coat covered in faint food-coloring stains, her eyes wide with wonder.
“Grandma!” Nora called out, spotting Vivian standing near the edge of the patio. “Come look! Mom fixed the shell!”
Vivian walked slowly down the patio steps. She wasn't wearing her linen jacket anymore; she had draped it over a chair, rolling up her sleeves in the warm afternoon sun.
She stood beside Nora at the table.
“Your mother didn't fix it, darling,” Vivian said softly, placing a hand gently on Nora’s small shoulder. “She built it. I just... gave it a little tune-up.”
Nora looked up at her grandmother, her brow furrowing in deep curiosity. “You know about the shell?”
Vivian took a deep breath. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the dark-green, cloth-bound notebook with the tarnished brass corners.
“I know a lot about this shell, Nora,” Vivian said, her voice loud enough for the whole family to hear. “In fact... I helped invent it a very long time ago.”
Nora’s mouth fell open in total shock. “You? A scientist?”
“A long time ago, yes,” Vivian said, a warm, bright smile spreading across her face. “And I think... it’s time I started being one again.”
Vivian opened the green notebook to the page with the silver shell drawing and laid it gently beside the cake.
Nora looked between the yellowed drawing from 1989 and the silver sugar sculpture on her eight-year-old birthday cake. A massive, radiant smile lit up her little face.
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“That’s the coolest thing ever!” Nora cheered, throwing her arms around Vivian’s waist.
Vivian caught her granddaughter in a tight, fierce hug, burying her face in Nora’s dark hair, letting out a long, shuddering breath that sounded like thirty-five years of weight finally leaving her chest.
