Meg watched from a rocking chair on her Gran’s back porch as fireflies rose from the grass into the gloaming.
Watching the patterns made by the tiny flickering lights, she felt as if all of her previous summers here at her Gran’s were telescoping behind her, traveling backward in time, to when she first saw fireflies lighting up the night from this porch.
There were no fireflies where she grew up in Arizona. For her, the only place they existed was here, in her Gran’s garden. They were integral to her memories of long, sticky summer days spent exploring the woods, splashing in the creek, and camping on the back lawn with her cousins when it was too hot to sleep indoors. Even now, seeing them sparked a flicker of that childhood magic.
Back then, the worst thing she had to worry about was the occasional bellyache from eating too many melty marshmallows toasted over the barbecue. These days she felt an icy claw of fear run down her spine whenever she turned on the news; the entire world was a dumpster fire, it seemed, with no relief in sight.
Now that Gran had passed, there was the added worry of what to do about the house. The same cousins who once squabbled over which games to play in this backyard were now adults who squabbled over politics and were similarly at odds over what to do with Gran’s house. Should they sell? Rent it out? Keep it and take turns staying here with their families in the summers? They couldn’t seem to agree.
Meg didn't have strong feelings about what to do with the house. She would be happy if they kept it, and at peace if they sold it. Either way, Gran wasn't here anymore, and nothing that they did with the house could change that. All she really wanted was for the fighting to stop.
After weeks of back-and-forth arguing over email and text messages with no resolution, they decided to meet here at the house for one last abbreviated summer visit together to make a final decision face-to-face. Meg had been the first to arrive. She’d flown in early, wanting some time alone with her memories of Gran in the quiet house, before the gaggle of cousins arrived with their noisy chatter and forceful opinions.
As she rocked gently, lost in thought, a firefly came blinking into her peripheral vision. It circled her head before descending to land on her forearm. Meg watched in wonder as the tiny insect walked down her arm, its bright yellow light flashing from beneath a delicate brown carapace.
A car door slammed on the other side of the house, interrupting Meg’s quiet communion with the fireflies. The first of the cousins had arrived. Any minute now the kitchen would be full of people, and the never-ending debate about pineapple on pizza and who should pick it up would drown out the quiet sounds of the crickets and cicadas.
The lightning bug made its way down her wrist to the back of her hand, where it took flight once more. Meg watched the tiny twinkling light ascend into the trees before grasping the arms of the rocker to push herself up, but before she could the screen door squealed on its hinges.
"Wow, it's humid out here." Eldest cousin, Jackie, huffed as she plopped into the rocker next to Meg's.
"I'm sweating my ass off." Jackie's twin brother, Brock, came through the door next. "If we keep the house, we definitely need to install air conditioning."
Jackie rolled her eyes."When we sell the house, you mean, we won't have to deal with all the updates it needs."
The back door squeaked open again, as youngest cousin, Kristen, came drifting out, a cold glass of the lemonade Meg had made when she arrived in one hand.
"Hey, party people." Kristen beamed her megawatt smile at them all before taking a sip of lemonade. "The market is terrible right now. I'm a realtor - I should know. In my professional opinion the best thing we can do right now is nothing, and just wait for the next upswing."
Everyone was talking, but no one was listening. Meg closed her eyes and hummed softly to herself, trying to tune out the noise. As the middle cousin, she was usually the mediator but today she didn't have it in her.
Abruptly, the bickering stopped. Meg opened her eyes to find her cousins all staring into the backyard, mouths ajar. Meg followed the direction they were looking and gasped. The lightning bugs were descending from the trees, their little lights sparking bright. But there were hundreds more than before, all zipping and looping together in a dense ball of light floating over the lawn.
A cool breeze moved the leaves on the trees and caressed their sweaty necks as the fragrance of vanilla and cinnamon wafted from the empty kitchen, perfuming the porch with the scent of their grandmother's famous Snickerdoodles.
The cousins watched the moving mass of fireflies with wonder. "You don't think...." Jackie began, at the same time as Brock said "Could it be...?"
The cousins forgot the argument about the house as they exchanged quiet, guilty glances.
One by one the lightning bugs detached from the spinning ball and twinkled off into the tree tops, leaving the usual velvety darkness of a summer's evening like any other.
The cousins stayed silent for a few more seconds before Brock cleared his throat and said, "I'm sleeping out here tonight, for old times' sake. I bet the sleeping bags are still in the attic."
"I don't think we'll still fit in them." Jackie said with an amused smile. "But sure, let's do it!"
Megan and Kristen's eyes met across the porch. "We're in too!" Kristen announced. "But if we're sleeping out, we'll need s'mores. I'm going to run to the gas station to see if they have marshmallows and charcoal"
A lone firefly drifted down, brushing Meg's shoulder before vanishing back into the trees. Listening to the familiar sound of Brock and Jackie’s laughter as they dragged the camping supplies down from the attic, Megan felt the tightness in her chest begin to loosen. For tonight, at least, there would be peace.
