A Galaxy Away

The periwinkle sky of dusk slowly changes into the velvety navy night sky. The stars popping out like popcorn kernels subjected to high heat. Staring up at the sky, I pull my sweater closer to me, the evening temperatures dipping into the low forty degree range. My warm breath blows into my cupped hands, keeping my fingertips warm. As the night continues to grow, the temperatures will follow suit in dropping further. I should have brought my gloves, but the call for the last minute star gazing meetup had me flustered and leaving in a hurry. It was supposed to be a perfect night to view Andromeda Galaxy and we were gearing up to watch the anticipated comet that was going to be visible. It was Grant’s favorite hobby, astronomy. I am more of an astrology follower, a practice Grant often scoffs at, but perhaps that is what keeps our friendship steady. I check my watch, keeping eye on the time. Surveying the grassy knoll for movement, where I was supposed to meet Grant, where he would pull up in his twelve year old Jeep and pull out his trusty portable telescope.

           A car approaches the dirt gravel patch and I turn toward the crunching of the gravel. I place my hand near my eyes, shielding the bright lights of the car. The sound of the car door closing and footsteps approach. But as I peer toward the lot, I notice it is not Grant, but rather another couple, walking hand in hand. A picnic backpack slung over the man’s shoulder and a rolled blanket tucked under the female’s arm. No doubt a bottle of bubbly and strawberries tucked inside for a romantic night of gazing at the stars.

           The couple remind me, for some odd reason, of my past. Of a time when it seemed like love was all we needed. Not the hell I was living prior to coming to this small town. Round and round of arguments and misunderstandings. Love that was supposed to endure forever but couldn’t survive the war. My battle scars still iridescent and shiny where the skin was sutured closed.

Tonight reminds me of that fated night. A dark summer night, the sky menacing with thick clouds of rain and pitch blackness that made it difficult to see as I drove, fat drops of rain smattering the windshield. The wipers swishing back and forth, back and forth. I would ascertain that when adults sing the wheels on the bus song to children and they sing “The wipers on the bus go swish swish swish, swish swish swish…” they aren’t speaking of a dark, rainy, painful night. They aren’t singing about the thwack thwack thwack the wipers make when they are on high speed so you can see the road in front of you. So you can see when the road curves -switchback to the left, switchback to the right, swerve around a fallen rock from the mountainous road.

           The pop from the champagne bottle pulls me to the present. The couple settled on their blanket; flutes of champagne being poured as they are swooned by diamonds in the sky. I wonder if he has a diamond in his pocket, a night proposal during a celestial show and the streaking of a comet across the sky. It’s romantic as hell, I think to myself.

           “Astra!” Grant’s voice calls out, waving at me from the opposite side of where I thought we were meeting.

           “Coming!” I shout back to him, pushing my cold hands into my small corduroy pant pockets.

           I take the fifty or so steps to walk toward Grant. His Jeep backed up to the crest of the ridge we were on. The hatch is open, a blanket is nestled inside. A thermos and paper cups set up next to a tin of sugar cookies from our favorite bakery in town. His telescope positioned to the sky, and I notice he brought a camera with him this evening.

           “Nice set up G-man.” I whistle, then pull him into our usual friendly embrace. The longing look in his eyes never faltering. I pull back, staring up at the sky again.

           “Did you forget your gloves?” he asks, knowing me oh so well.

           I look down sheepishly. “You called and said comet…stars…bribed me with whiskey chai and Sweeter Days sugar cookies. That sends a girl running out of the house without her gloves.” I shrug. “What can I say…I’m absentminded as always.”

           “Consistent at least,” he chuckles, then throws a pair of emerald green gloves at me.

           I catch them and place them over my frigid fingers. The warmth of the fleece lining brings relief to my cold cold hands. Grant walks over and wraps me in a blanket. His arms holding me in an embrace that lingers, that feels nice. I relax ever so slightly, staring up at the night sky, in Grant’s arms.

           “Estimated time of comet viewing is T minus eight minutes.” he proclaims, moving from behind me to the telescope.

           I watch him place his eye to the eyepiece, looking into outer space. He moves his right hand, adjusting the focuser and another gadget I don’t know the name of or what its purpose is for. His camera lens is attached as he programs some settings for shutter speed and whatever else he needs to capture the images of the night sky.

           He moves back toward the Jeep, to me and my heart flutters. That small tiny feeling that I get whenever I am around Grant. I push it aside again, same as I do every day we are together. It’s not that I don’t find Grant attractive, he is. He’s not the brooding tattooed biker, not the bulky protective bodyguard or the sexy billionaire hunk from romance novels. He’s just…well he’s Grant. Tall, a little lanky, strong enough to hoist the telescope out of his Jeep and set it up, smart enough to know about anything that has to do with the sky and our Earth’s orbit, witty enough to banter back and forth with me. Caring enough to have taken his time over the past year to give me space and handle my repeated rejection.

           “Here ya go.” Grant says, handing me a steaming mug of his self-made whiskey chai.  

           The aroma of the mug fills my nose. Hints of clove, nutmeg, and cinnamon, the creamy texture of the frothed milk and the honey spiced smell of his favorite Jameson whiskey. I can picture the black barrel bottle on his counter, tucked neatly in the corner with his makeshift bar items.

           I sip the warm liquid as it coats my throat and warms me throughout. “Deliciousness. You have outdone yourself Grant.” I smile and notice a faint blush cross his cheeks, the small flameless candle on the blanket providing some light. “No really. This is seriously the best batch you’ve made.” I take another sip and his smile grows.

           We sit in silence, slowly drinking the warm whiskey chai, nibbling on the sugar cookies from the gold and pink tin, and stare at the sky.

           “Do you think that in this vast world, where we’re all under one sky that our person is really out there somewhere?” he asks me.

           I wince. Careful not to mislead him down a path he keeps opening up to me, and I keep taking the other road.

           “I suppose.” I say, finishing my drink and holding out my mug for him to refill. “If you believe in all that soulmate, one person, lovey dovey crap.” I answer. It’s the age old debate we’ve had the past few months.

           He sighs, fills up his cup and we sit in silence again. “Maybe I’m in the wrong time. You ever feel like that? Like you belong in another lifetime? Another era?”

           “Like Sir Lancelot?” I let out a slight laugh.

           “Maybe. Heck Maybe King George.” he retorts.

           “You would want to be the Mad King?” I ask sarcastically.

           “Well no- not mad.” he thinks. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind being madly in love once in my life.” He stares into the sky, pointing out Andromeda Galaxy.

           “It’s so wild to think we can see that all the way from here.” I say in awe.

           “T minus 30 seconds for the comet.” he relays. Excitement fills his voice and he stands, holding his shutter clicker, depressing the button once and then again.

           Silence fills the space around as we wait; I count down in my head. Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven… eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. And there it is. Right on time. Just as Grant calculated. The bright light streaking above us. Like a baseball flying through the sky lit up in white flames. The tail trailing into a fading light. The sky seems to quiet, the stars still as if they are watching the comet’s performance. The shutter of the telescope camera clicks rapidly.

           Grant moves closer to me and takes my gloved hand. He looks at me, with his amber eyes, his light stubble that covers his chin and cheeks, his floppy caramel hair -a small whisp that falls over his eyes. I move the stray strand, tucking it under another patch of hair to hold it in.

           “If you stare at me you’re going to miss the one thing you came here for.” I whisper to him. My heart beating fast, the thumping audible in my head, in the ringing of my ears.

           “How do you know I didn’t come here for you.” he says softly back to me.

           I adjust his glasses, let my hand trail down his cheek. Grant places his hand on top of mine. Holding my gaze. A fire between growing as bright as the comet in the sky. I promised myself I wouldn’t hurt him. I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself find joy again, to tempt fate again, to love again. I wasn’t deserving of it.

           Before I can think further, he leans in towards me. His lips as soft and tender as I have imagined they would be. The taste of vanilla and cinnamon mixed with the spice of the whiskey swirl in my mouth. Our tongues tangled, exploring, searching for something we have both been longing for. Grant pulls me closer. Holds me tighter. Deepens his kiss, a fervent need that pulls me into his orbit. We’re frantic and needy and filled with desire and unanswered questions and I need to stop, I should want to stop. I’m only going to hurt him.

           He pulls away first. Both of us gasping for a breath. The cold night air seeps into my lungs. Filling them with the oxygen they need. I will the oxygen to travel to my brain, to let me make sense of what I am doing. I need to stop.

           “Astra.” My name falls off his lips as if it is where it belongs. As if they were born to say them. As if he has said my name one hundred times for one hundred years.

           I step back. He reaches out for me. “I – I,” I stutter, can’t catch my breath or collect my thoughts. I turn to walk away, but a force pulls me back to him.

           “Astra wait.” Grant calls out. His hand reaches for mine. I let him grab me.

           “Grant. I can’t. I-“ All thoughts escape me. My heart takes over the rational part of my mind.

           He pulls me close to him and kisses me again. His forehead rests on mine. “You can’t what? Love me? Am I unlovable?” he asks, and the vulnerability and sadness fill his voice and it shatters my heart.

           “I have to go.” I say, pulling my hand from his grasp.

           “Astra wait.” Grant calls out. Tears fall from my eyes. “Astra!”

           “Grant please.” I cry out.

           “Please what? I don’t understand. What did I do? I’m sorry about the kiss. If that was it just forget it happened.” he pleads.

           The kiss was not the issue. The kiss was better than I expected. The kiss was everything that I ever wanted. Grant was everything that I ever wanted…since that night. That fated dark rainy night.

           I try to run back to my car. The other couple gone. They’re always gone. They always come and pop champagne and then poof...disappear. I have to get away before Grant finds out the truth.

           “ASTRA!” Grant yells louder. His pace picking up, the comet overhead seemingly picking up the same speed.

           “Grant please. Stop please.” I cry out, my lead legs not moving any faster.

           But I know what happens next, I always do. I make it to the car. I slam the door closed. Grant pulls at the handle but it slips from his grip.

           “Astra please just stay.” he cries out. “Stay with me.” he begs me. “Just this once stay.”

           Then the tears free fall from my eyes. My eyelashes wet from the onslaught of tears. Grant’s voice is there still, fading.

           “Astra!” now fainter. “Astra!” still audible. “Astra stay!”

           “I can’t stay Grant.” I say to myself. I know I can’t stay. I never stay.

           My chest heaves the sobs of love and loss and the desire to hold Grant in my arms….forever. But it was all just a dream. Or a nightmare.

To live out that fated night over and over and over again. The love we had. The baby we could never have. The round and round of IVF and cycle synching and orderly scheduled sex with ovulation all in hopes for the one thing I desired more than anything. The fight that morning where I threw a bottle nearly missing Grant’s head because he said I was enough, that we were enough. He was giving up. Later that night, he brought me to our spot. The grassy knoll where we view the stars with our naked eyes and through his fancy telescope. The spot where he brought me for our first date, his signature whiskey chai and my tin of sugar cookies as he explained all the constellations to me. The spot where we laid a blanket and popped champagne and ate strawberries from each other’s hands. The night he pulled a ring from his jacket pocket and proposed to me. The spot where we came after the worst fight we had. It was his way of apologizing. The whiskey chai. The sugar cookies. The kiss. The impromptu sex I knew he wanted, spontaneity to prove we were enough for each other. Then the rain came out of nowhere and stopped everything. The second fight. I called him names. Rejected his compromises, rejected him, rejected his way of trying to fix things.

           I drove us home. My anger seething. My eyes blurry from tears. The thwack thwack thwack the wipers make when they are on high speed so I could see the road in front of us. So I could see when the road curves -switchback to the left, switchback to the right, swerve around a fallen rock from the mountainous road. But the swerve was too big, too quick. The Jeep flipped. Once. Twice. Maybe a third. Grant, in the heated fight never buckled his seat belt. Thrown through the front windshield. I was lucky to live. Or unlucky as some would say. If only I could live in the dream, if I can change the dream to stay with Grant…forever. For I realized, we were enough.