Connecting the Dots

“But you promised,” Stephanie said, a whiny voice. “I told you about it last week. You promised. You promised.”

         “I did, but.” Erin caught herself. She’d been a mother long enough to know that this was an unwinnable battle. She rolled her eyes at Landon, who stood inside the front door with his hands in his pocket. Then she shrugged. She mouthed at Landon, “I don’t want to leave you with this.” Stephanie had her arms around her mother, bawling into her pants leg. “We were going to watch the shooting stars together. You promised.”

         That was Stephanie’s only argument. Earlier today Erin had told Landon that three high school friends who she hadn’t seen except in passing in 10 years wanted to go for a girls’ night out, wine, appetizers, and a trunkful of giggles and complaining about their husbands and love lives. He’d replied that she rarely went out, what a treat, and he’d look after Stephanie. At that point, she’d forgotten about the promise of a week ago. She hadn’t written it on her calendar, and while Stephanie, like most eight-year-olds, didn’t have a calendar, she did have a good memory.

         “Listen, young lady, I didn’t know a week ago that the shooting stars weren’t happening until after nine. That’s way past your bedtime.”

         “When’d think shooting stars’d happen? While it’s still light. You’re so dumb, Mom.” Stephanie rolled her eyes. Erin didn’t see, but Landon did. He quickly shook his head at her and smiled.

Erin wiggled out of her daughter’s clutches and got in the car. Stephanie lay in a heap next to the driveway, sobbing, tugging up fistfuls of grass. Erin signaled for Landon to come over to her the driver’s side window.

“Look, I’m sorry about asking you to do this in the first place. She’s mine, not yours.”

“I don’t mind. We’ll have fun. We always do.”

“And I hate leaving her in this state.”

He smiled. “It won’t last long.”

He hesitated. “I’ve got this. Let go a little. Relax a little. I really, really do have this.”

He turned around and said over his shoulder, “Have fun and stop worrying.” He went up the stairs and back into the house. He left Stephanie in the yard pulling at the grass.

An hour later, after she’d come in the house reluctantly, she sat at the kitchen table, pushing her mac and cheese, her favorite, around her plate like it was peas or broccoli. He didn’t say a word. As the new boyfriend, it wasn’t his place. But from his own children, he’d learned that saying nothing is always better than saying anything unless he got it exactly right. Finding that sweet spot was like the odds of winning Keno in Vegas. No thank you, he thought.

After cleaning off the plates, Landon pointed outside beyond the patio at the lightning bugs, blinking off and on all over the yard. Stephanie was still at the table, her head on her arms. She gave the fireflies a cursory glance.

“You know the ancient Greeks called lightning bugs ‘kysolampis.” Nothing. “It means ‘butt fire.’” Stephanie raised her head. “That’s right, they called them ‘buttfires.’” She giggled and stood up. No okay, you win, or let’s go outside. No apologies although she didn’t own him one but did owe her mother one. That’d be for another time.

He grabbed a quilt off the sofa. Not the one Erin wanted him using, but once the connection’s made, no time for worrying about anybody who might be pissed at some point in the future.

Ten minutes later, they were stretched out on the quilt, Stephanie tired from chasing the blinking lights. Landon mentioned the shooting stars which he’d looked up and found out that tonight was supposed to be the best night in a few years for a meteor shower. They listened to the crickets, and she told him stupid knock knock jokes as they waited. “What’s that there?” Stephanie said, suddenly and pointed at the darkness above them. Landon couldn’t see where exactly she was pointing, assuming it was toward a particular constellation. Or maybe it was towards the pine trees at the edge of the house’s property. It didn’t matter. Landon knew what she was interested in.

         The night was warm. They had turned off the lights in the house. Luckily, the neighbors on both sides of them were on vacation, so their houses were dark also. Erin lived in a quiet, exclusive cul-de-sac, rich without much noise or artificial light. Houses were far apart. Perfect star gazing conditions.

         “Can’t really see where you’re pointing,” Landon said.

         “There, up there,” Stephanie said. She grabbed Landon’s hand and brought it next to hers. He followed the two arms pointing into the night sky. Nearby was Orion, but that wasn’t exactly what she was pointing at. So far, he’d not seen a single shooting star. He knew it wouldn’t be a Fourth of July fireworks display, perfectly choreographed, but he’d expected more than this.

         “I’m not sure what you’re pointing to.” He pulled their arms to the right. “That’s Orion.” He assumed she was nodding because she didn’t say no. “If you follow those two stars, it leads to the North Star. You know what the North Star is, don’t you.”

         “Come on, Landon, I’m not dumb.” Stephanie sounded just like her mother, only voice was a higher octave. He laughed. “The North Star is what guided Harriet Tubman on the Underground Railroad. We learned that in class last year.” Wow, Landon thought, how things have changed. He never learned about the Underground Railroad until his junior year in high school, and then only briefly. Like most academic issues in North Carolina then, Southerners, including himself, didn’t paid attention or care.

         Stephanie was no longer interested in her original question. Orion was now front and center, a constellation that Landon knew something about, he hoped enough to entertain his girlfriend’s daughter while she had a night out with gal pals.

         “Why’s he a hunter? It just seems a bunch random stars.”

She was right, in her own way. Still, he pointed out how, if she connected lines between the different stars, it made a man who could be a hunter, if one stretched her imagination. He left out the stretched part. He studied up a little bit today because he knew that the best way to keep Erin happy was to make Stephanie happy. Not that Erin was unhappy, but he, as a 37-year-old divorcee, always worried that the other shoe would drop in this relationship. Erin was 31 and while she was also divorced, she was built of stronger internal stuff, not as self-conscious as Landon. She made decisions and later worried about the consequences. He was the opposite. Sometimes, disaster struck before he even got to the decision.

He pointed out other constellations he knew, explaining how they got their names.

“You know, Orion was a mythical hunter,” he said. “He’s from Greek mythology. There were different origin stories about him, and like most ancient myths, it was about how to behave.” She scooted in a little closer. “He was very handsome, and as generally happens with handsome men, they have too much pride.”

“You’re a handsome man,” Stephanie said, and “you don’t have too much pride.”

“That’s nice to say. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s true.” She drew in even closer.

“Well, like most handsome men – excluding moi – he had too many girlfriends, so gods who were greater punished him by tossing him into the sky. A warning not to be too prideful.”

He glanced at Stephanie, and she was asleep, her head tucked into his left elbow. So, she wasn’t disappointed by the lack of a meteor shower. He was. No reason to move. Let her sleep, he thought, and stared heavenward, waiting.

Not long after, almost asleep, Landon was startled. Headlights glared against the fence between Stephanie’s yard and the Crowders. He straightened himself up without disturbing Steph. The sliding glass door opened. Erin joined him on the blanket, sitting on his right.

“So cute,” she whispered, “she’s like a cuddly housecat, all curled in. I’m amazed she’s not purring.” She had a hint of wine on her breath. He couldn’t see her. They tried a quick kiss, but he landed on her left ear. She giggled. It was these moments that Landon saw the innocent, younger Erin, not the one beaten down by an abusive husband and raising a daughter alone, which didn’t seem that hard based on Stephanie’s behavior. Yet Landon understood that Stephanie wasn’t always on her best behavior. Erin had told stories. “How did it go?”

“Like always. Truly a cuddly housecat. We didn’t see much. I told her stories about how constellations got their names, and like most people when I lecture, she fell asleep. It wasn’t my goal, but I’ll take it. Didn’t want to wake her.” With his right arm he pulled Erin in closer.

“But she shouldn’t be up, you know?” Erin said. “I’m sure she manipulated you. She’s got you eating out of the palm of her hand.”

“Good,” Landon replied.

“But it upsets me, and it shouldn’t. I’m the mom, but you’re the knight in shining armor. I should be grateful, but I get these pangs. I worry what might happen to her if things don’t work with us. What might happen to me? It’s crazy. I just had a great night out, and I’m about a sentence away from turning this into a disaster. I’ll shut up.” Landon knew she was tipsy, and tomorrow she’d be embarrassed, aghast even, but that was okay.

They sat in silence for 15 minutes. Landon thought Erin may have fallen asleep. She hadn’t.

“You know this is what I love. When you and Steph are one. This is what she needs, yes, but it’s also what I need.

“You’re a great person and dad clearly, and if you could spend more time with your kids, you’d be even a greater father. Father of the year nominee, minimum.” She giggled. “This is when you say, “thank you”.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“Don’t think, do,” she said and snuggled tighter.

“Over there,” Erin yelped, as a streak of light and then another happened far up left of them in the direction of Orion. Stepanie didn’t move. There were two more and then nothing for five minutes. One more, and then 15 minutes of nothing. That’s how it went with these kinds of things.

In between staring at the sky, Landon and Erin whispered about the night out with the girls, plans for next week with Stephanie, and again, she raised the issue of moving in.

Landon said. “Right now, everything works. I understand that you’re thinking about more than just Stephanie. I’ve been through the bad end, and so have you and most importantly, so has she. I’m not solid on my feet with the job or a lot of other things that have nothing to do with, really. This is about me.”

Erin sighed. Landon was relearning the language of sighs. Women, like the Innuits and words for snow, had 50 different sighs meaning 50 different things. The complication was that, while all women sighed, no two with the exact same sigh meant what another woman meant. Erin and Landon didn’t verbally fight – divorce and a young child who’s been through that trauma – does that. Instead, they seriously argued through grunts, sighs, shoulder shrugs, eye rolls, tics of the hands, smirks, and not laughing together. While this sigh was good because it meant she wasn’t getting her way, his moving in, something he wanted to do but he had to be sure.

After a sigh, Erin changed the subject. “It’s amazing how many stars there are when I take the time to look and it’s dark enough.” They could see a faint outline of the Milky Way. “They’re everywhere, but only a few have a story. Only fewer still seemed to matter. Like Orion.” Another star shot through the air. After seeing dozens, they all seemed to be the same. Except they weren’t. They were individual streaks that had somehow arrived at this moment. “It’s not anything really. But somebody a long time ago decided that it needed to matter. A myth developed, and that myth has survived until today. Who would’ve thought?

“It’s like the myth of marriage or parenting. Look at all the t.v. ads, couples always happy, children always smiling, families in cars driving surrounded by beauty, laughing, singing along together to a song.” She paused. “That’s not how it was for me. We didn’t sing together; we couldn’t even agree on the same radio station, much less the same song. We had our good moments though. We’ve been through the ringer. If we want to make it, we will. It won’t be the television version, and it won’t be the Orion myth version. It’ll fall in between.

“Think about it: I was in an absolutely shitty marriage and look what I got.” She edged head towards the other side of Landon. “You may not know your own kids as much as you’d like, but I know how Steph feels about you.” Erin leaned over and kissed the side of Landon’s face.

“I hear you. I do. Give it time. I promise.” He hissed and pointed again to his left as three meteors flared through the sky at the same time. Unlike fireworks, it didn’t build to anything. It required patience and a sense of wonderment. “The randomness of it all. Or is it so random?”

“It’s not unlike getting pregnant. A thousand eggs and millions of sperm. It would seem to be a given that if sex happens close to the right time, a woman gets pregnant. I read a study that even when couples are really trying, pregnancy only happens about 20% of the time.”

They were silent again. A streak flashed across the sky. Landon wondered about Erin’s last comment. Was there more to it?

“Don’t think I’m angling here,” Erin said. “I’m not.” She quietly explained that one of the women she’d had drinks with was trying to get pregnant. Most of the night was about their failures and the science of trying “to be in the family way.” “So weird, she couldn’t say pregnant or ‘we’re having lots of sex.’ It was a constant barrage of euphemisms. And lots of laughs, including one spilled glass of wine. Luckily, it was white.”

More streaks. A light layer of dew gathering on them. Landon worried about Stephanie and the dampness. He suggested they go in. “I’ll carry her.”

“She can walk.”

“No reason to wake her, if we can avoid it.”

Erin rolled on her side. He felt her breath on his cheek.

“You can’t spoil her forever, you know. She’s going to piss you off soon. Maybe tonight is a good time to practice just a little discomfort, for both of you.”

Landon sighed, once he was sure Erin understood. It was resignation and acknowledgement of she wasn’t wrong. It was also a warning that he’d better stop the doubt – pity even – and the worrying that it’d all come crashing down like a sandcastle one day. If he thought their relationship was a sandcastle, pretty on the outside but not structurally solid, then it was best to get out now. He knew it wasn’t.

Erin stood up, brushed her butt off even though they were on a blanket.

“One more night,” Landon said. No response was a yes. No reason to rush anything. He scooped Stephanie in his arms. She groaned and then rearranged herself and was back asleep. They walked towards the back door. Silent.

Behind them three shooting stars streaked across the sky.

The End