Opie and Thurston

Entering the Rockville Farm-Fresh Organic Market, Brennan glanced at her Seiko wristwatch, a recent birthday gift from Booth, who proclaimed that everyone should wear one. (An attitude he'd picked up from Pops.) She was well ahead of the schedule in her head, wanting to complete her grocery shopping before meeting Angela for an early lunch. Their children were being released from afternoon classes for a museum field trip and the pair had volunteered to serve as class guides. Once the children had seen the newest dinosaur exhibit, they would move outdoors to the Jeffersonian back lawn to re-create Max's Mentos Soda Pop Explosion experiment, which had delighted Parker years ago.

Once she had selected fresh produce for the coming week, Brennan headed for the condiment aisle. She needed a bottle of Hanson's Rich Tomato Ketchup, considered a necessity for eating fries in their household. It had been produced in Philadelphia since 1928 by a family Grams had known since childhood. Each time Booth's grandfather visited, he'd bring them a few bottles in his bag. After Hank Sr's passing, Booth had shared a bottle with the Farm Fresh proprietor. It didn't take much beyond its excellent flavor to convince him to stock Hanson's Ketchup locally.

Placing two bottle of ketchup in her cart, Brennan smiled to herself at the next item she spotted: Opie and Thurston's Hot Sauce. Her former intern, Finn Abernathy, was now the chief anthropologist for Fernbank Museum of Natural History, a professor at Emory University, and a frequent consultant on forensic research into the health and medicinal practices of pre-Removal south-eastern Native American tribes. He had used his hot sauce royalties to fund a community college scholarship program for North Carolinian juvenile detention students. During a long ago conversation about his abusive stepfather, she had appreciated Finn's humble honesty. The lanky drawling youngster had become a recognized colleague and generous benefactor.

Hodgins had been raised to share his wealth, and his unbreakable glass invention had more than replaced the money digitally stolen by Pelant. Angela viewed his success as good karma for choosing to save the Afghani girls and teachers without hesitation. Once she recovered the 'blood' money, he insisted she donate it to charity anonymously. His rubber beaker protector royalties were funding the Jeffersonian once more, financing cyber-security studies at several universities from Oklahoma to Oregon, and underwriting a Texas foundation for public school music instruction suggested by Billy Gibbons.

Michael Vincent and Christine were in middle school now, and Hank Jr. was well on his way to becoming an Eagle Scout with young Seeley -Wicks-Sweets. The two boys were classmates, constant companions, and 'two peas in a bucket' as Brennan said. Booth's resolving to be a father figure for Daisy's son meant that the pair grew up together, and their compatible personalities created a firm friendship. They shared happy hours unsqueamishly assisting Jack Hodgins with the care of his snakes and insects. The curly-headed scientist let them stoop and stretch, bend and reach as he directed their efforts from his wheelchair. Their earthworm colony display had taken first place at the Jefferson Elementary School Science Fair.

Shaking off her reverie, Brennan hurried to the check-out counter, and strode out of the store. Her non-perishable purchases would keep fine in the car during their field trip. She arrived at Molly's Café just as a text from Angela chimed on her phone. The best friends shared Eggplant Parmesan and spinach salad, followed by almond vanilla gelato, a necessary energy boost before herding exuberant nine-year-olds through the afternoon's agenda.

After oohing and aahhing about T. Rex and Brontosauri, the Jefferson Elementary children gathered on the museum's spacious patio where four small vinyl-draped tables awaited them. An intern had arranged twenty two-liter generic cola bottles on the concrete, and several rolls of Mentos candies on each table. Four plastic-aproned safety-goggled students would open their soda bottles as Angela and Brennan calmly explained the science behind their actions. No predictions were offered before the Mentos lozenge was dropped into each bottle. Then….

As the first geyser of cola shot skyward, the kids were silent for a mere second before erupting into excited cheers and shouts. The two mothers glanced at each other with happy smiles, remembering Max and his after school Science Club. His original assistant, Parker had been only the first of numerous young devotees who were hooked on science ever after. Dr. Bunsen Jude made an annual appearance at the museum taping his Science Dude show, and the modestly-priced tickets sold like hotcakes. The Jeffersonian interns competed to act as his costumed sidekick in reciting the Scientist's Motto as Brennan had once done. Each years' small proceeds were reinvested in the Jeffersonian's ongoing After School Science Club program, giving the children a feeling of contributing themselves.

Brennan blinked back a tear as Hank took his turn at the table. Grandpa Max was surely smiling somewhere.