Looking Backward from the Tricentennial

Chapter Fifteen

Springtime in the nation's capital was embodied in Lafayette Square by the fragrance of cherry blossoms, the pink and white buds forming a lush canopy over the park bench where Julian and Edith sat watching the White House in the mid-afternoon sun.

"Happy anniversary, I suppose," Julian said. "Fifty years since we met. Seems like just last week." Edith smiled. The initial rush of pleasure he'd undergone at seeing her again had faded somewhat. The young woman he'd connected with so strongly was now a grandmother; her once-rich black hair was silver, and the wrinkles marking her cheeks were deep and abundant.

"For you, yes," Edith said. "For me, I feel every moment of those decades. An hour after you introduced yourself, all my expectations were upside down. Sirens wailing, people crying, you were lying on the ground bleeding. It was all I could do to keep you alive until the paramedics arrived." Her expression tightened. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"You felt it too, didn't you?" Julian asked, hearing the upswelling of emotion in her voice. "I could tell; the way you warmed up to me, the way you smiled. And you were out of my league; for real, I couldn't believe my luck." He chuckled.

"What about my luck? You protected me," Edith replied. A knot of teenagers floated past them on scooters, bantering in a language Julian didn't recognize. Edith waited until it was quiet again before continuing.

"You know, it's a strange experience for me to be sitting here with you after seeing your frozen body for all those years," she said. "I've played out this conversation a thousand times in my head." She turned and reached out with her hands. Julian instinctively grasped them, feeling the warmth of the skin resting loosely over her aged bones. A wistful smile appeared on her face as she stared deep into his eyes. "I waited a long time for you, Julian. As the kids today say, 'I've been thinking about a physical relationship with you.'" When his expression betrayed him, she concluded, "But I know I've missed my chance to give you the thank you I'd imagined, even dreamed about, for being my guardian angel."

"Edith," Julian said as gently as he could, "we both missed our chance. I'm just glad you're safe, and things turned out well for you."

"I know," she said. The artificial cheerfulness in her tone suggested she wouldn't have been disappointed if he'd responded positively. "Ray told me your first question after waking was about me." Edith looked away and blinked rapidly. "His father was a good man, Julian. Don't think less of me for moving on."

"Of course not," he reassured her, releasing her hands. "If you hadn't, Ray and Idabee wouldn't be here now. That work she does for the people's legislative assembly is impressive."

"It is, isn't it? It's very gratifying, seeing BeeBee follow in my footsteps," Edith said, deep pride for her granddaughter evident in her tone. "Ray was never interested; I guess it skipped a generation."

"You were a delegate?" he asked in surprise.

"I had a seat on the General Welfare committee," she said. "In my day, we didn't have holograms, fancy conference rooms, or AI-generated explainer videos. We had to make do with Zoom and a lot more human work. Helping guide real healthcare reform, turning sound bites into actual policy"—she allowed herself a small, satisfied smile—"was more my forte than being an organizer and growing the union. The problems with America's healthcare system were well diagnosed, but seeing the treatment through was a challenge. It took nearly a decade to transition to universal healthcare."

Something in her tone reminded Julian of his own grandmother and the way she unspooled treasured stories while reminiscing about the civil rights movement. He waited patiently for Edith to continue.

"Things from back then seem so crazy in hindsight; the patients I saw without insurance were the ones who needed healthcare the most. Whenever there was any type of reform proposed, the industries that profited from the dysfunction would scream socialism to scare people. And yet we were paying far more than other countries, and getting worse results.