When Stars Fall

by Wendy Million

  My lies of omission are as bad as confirming his ideas, but I can’t bring myself to lie outright. Single parenting is hard, and Nikki does bear the brunt of that when I’m on a movie set.

  “Where’s the father?”

  “Not in the picture.” A normal question to ask, but my stomach rolls.

  “That’s too bad.” Wyatt juggles the wrapper from one hand to the other. “I can’t imagine having a kid and not wanting to be involved.”

  When we were together, kids were an abstract thing for me and us—something for someday. The day I peed on that stick and saw the positive test result, I had a mini–panic attack. In shock, I booked myself on a flight home to have my mother confirm I was pregnant. A long chat with Nikki and my parents about my options ensued. Remembering those days causes a spike of anxiety. I was so lost and unsure. When the lines on the stick appeared, my heart understood I wouldn’t be able to keep Wyatt and the baby. At that time, the two didn’t go together.

  “You think you’d be a good dad?” His relationship with his mother and father was fraught with animosity. In the three years we were together, I never met them, but I heard a lot, nothing good, from him and Anna.

  “I’d sure as hell try, Ellie. My parents were such a disaster that I don’t have good role models. But Isaac’s parents were great. What happened to Isaac wasn’t from a lack of love and care.”

  “Did you ever tell Tanvi what Isaac told us?” I keep my voice low in case anyone around us is trying to listen in.

  “No. What would be the point? She can’t change the past. It was too late. I felt guilty for a long time.”

  “About what happened to him as a kid or about his relationship with his father?” I try to make eye contact. After Isaac died, we were both so raw, in so much pain, and we never talked about Isaac’s revelations. We carried the weight, and soldiering on undid both of us in different ways.

  “That the abuse didn’t happen to me. Stupid, I guess. I don’t know. Or that I didn’t somehow protect him. But he never told me. All those times we were getting wasted together and he never said a word.”

  “You were both kids.” Some secrets are impossible to reveal. Haven’s face flashes before me. The waves roll onto shore. “You can only ever know what people are willing to tell you. Isaac didn’t want any of us to recognize his pain. I’m not sure why he told us that night, but it must have been such a heavy weight.” The club was chaos. A blur. Tears prick at the back of my eyes.

  “I sometimes wonder if his drug use didn’t spiral even more out of control once his dad died. He got so reckless after that—mixing shit that shouldn’t be mixed, hanging around people who were even worse than me,” Wyatt says.

  They both got deeper into prescription drugs, their Jim Beam, and their lean concoctions after Kabir died. Maybe we all did. They led and I followed. “I think about it too. If there was something I could have said that might have turned things around. But we were out of our heads. I’m not sure if I remember what happened correctly. His death doesn’t feel real when I think about it too much.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  Reluctantly, I check my watch again. “We should go. I have to zip home to get the car before going to Haven’s school.” Before she sees him, I need to lay the ground rules. “Do you mind waiting at the house while I get her?”

  “You’re letting me spend more time with you. I get to know your niece. I’d stand on my head if you asked me to.”

  “Maybe later—I’d kinda like to see that.”

  Wyatt’s eyes darken as they meet mine. While we dated, I played a gymnast in a movie. The costume came home a few times.

  “Wyatt.” A glance from him can dredge up so many memories.

  “I can’t help where my mind goes. It was three years, Ellie. But sometimes the memories are infinite.” Wyatt hops off the picnic table and throws out our garbage.

  My time with him wasn’t sustainable, but it sure was fun. Three of the best years of my life. The backbone of who I’ve become, but I won’t say that out loud. Instead, I lead us to the bike.

  From the back seat, Haven shifts to stare out the windshield. “He’s at the house?” Her voice is an octave higher than usual.

  “Yes,” I say, again.

  “We’re eating dinner as a family?” She squeals.

  “I’m still not sure if I’m going to tell him.” I sigh. “It’s complicated. I need you to be on your best behavior. Movie set behavior. Do you understand?”

  “Sure, Ellie. Whatever you say.”

  I let out a frustrated groan. Sometimes her ability to flip from a nine-year-old to a teenage brat is astounding. The stakes are too high to correct her. If she wanted to, she could blow the secret up, tell Wyatt the truth. We drive the rest of the way in silence, both of us staring out windows.

  The gates to the property open as we approach, and I wave to Jerome in the small security hut. Sometimes having him and Freddie, my other full-time security guard, seems excessive, but then I remember the few times someone unwanted or unexpected has turned up, and I’m grateful to have them as the first line of defense.

  “Can I show Wyatt my room?” Haven asks as we enter the garage.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” She crosses her arms and gives me a defiant pout.

  “It’s too risky.” I put the vehicle in park. “And you’re eight, if he asks your age.” Guilt eats holes clean through me. I’m a bad mother. Who asks their kid to lie for them? Ugh.

  She has a framed photo of me and Wyatt on her nightstand. When she was old enough to understand what happened, she insisted on a photo of both her parents. The picture of us is one Isaac took at the MTV awards, at the podium—the night of that kiss. I’m focused on Wyatt, love oozing out of me. He’s looking at the crowd with his arm draped around me. We’re happy and natural, unlike in the posed photos Haven finds on the internet. The moment is all us—we’re not movie stars, we’re two people in love.

  Haven grabs her backpack from the seat beside her and follows me into the house. The most delicious smell greets me. It’s like we’ve walked into an Italian restaurant. Wyatt isn’t in the kitchen, but the oven is on with something cooking inside. A frisson of fear snakes through me. Would he have snooped around the house? I wasn’t gone that long, and he’s prepared dinner.

  Haven takes a few deep breaths. “He can cook? Like, more than ‘heat, stir, serve’?”

  The panic in my chest is threatening to take over my common sense. Wyatt wouldn’t snoop. No reason to. I laugh a little while taking her backpack to try to ease the tension in me. “Yes. Remember that chef movie you asked to watch, and I said you couldn’t because it had too many adult words?”

  “Oh, wow.” She takes another deep breath. “I don’t know what he’s cooking, but I’ll eat it even if I don’t like it.”

  I shake my head in amusement, following her into the living room. Wyatt is sprawled out on one of the couches, the TV remote in his hand. When he sees us come in, he sits up and gives Haven a little wave.

  “What’s up, Short Stuff?” Wyatt grins at Haven and pats the seat beside him.

  The nickname takes me back. Isaac called me “Short Stuff” sometimes whenever he got impatient with me. His voice echoes in my head.

  Haven circles the couch and plops beside Wyatt. “What’re you watching?” She eyes the remote. Her afterschool routine does not involve television. In general, her access to electronics is limited.

  “You don’t get many stations. I was just flipping.” Wyatt slouches beside her. “What do you normally do after school?”

  She hesitates. “Here? I usually play outside in the pool, swim in the ocean, or read. Uh, Ellie doesn’t like the TV on too much.”

  “Would explain the lack of good TV.” Wyatt holds up the remote.

  “Yeah, it’s almost never on. What are you cooking?” Haven perks up as the smell wafts into the living room.

  “I fig
ured most kids like pasta, right?” He’s probably wondering why I’m frozen to the spot outside the kitchen instead of joining them. “I made a version of this pasta bake I’ve done many times before. Your aunt didn’t have much to work with in the house.”

  “Yeah, Aunt Ellie’s not much of a cook.” She gives me a conspiratorial smirk and then focuses on Wyatt again. “Is that a bathing suit? Do you want to come swim with me?”

  “You coming too?” Wyatt peers at me over the back of the couch.

  “Sure.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “What about the oven?”

  “I programmed it to send me an alert when it’s almost done.” He holds up his phone.

  “You what?”

  He laughs, a deep, full sound that I haven’t heard in a long time. “It’s a smart oven—you can do all kinds of things with the app enabled.” He comes toward me with his phone outstretched. “You had no idea?”

  “I sent Freddie to buy it—said I wanted the best. That’s what he came back with.” I shrug. “My other one conked out on me when I was actually attempting to cook.” I shift my feet and meet his eyes. “You and Isaac were the techies. I rode on your coattails.”

  “I actually can’t believe how good it is to talk about him again.”

  “You don’t see Tanvi anymore? Or Anna?”

  “Ah, no, I see Tanvi a lot, actually. But she never knew Isaac the way we did.”

  Haven’s disappeared to put on her bathing suit, and the two of us are standing far too close. Neither of us makes a move to put distance between us.

  “I haven’t talked about him in a long time either. I’ve thought about him a lot. So many times. I didn’t know him as long as you did, so I imagine it’s even harder for you.”

  Haven comes bouncing into the room clad in her bathing suit, with a towel clutched in her hand. “Are you guys ready?”

  “You bet,” he says, and he takes a reluctant step back from me. “I need a towel. If you tell me where they are, I can grab one.”

  “No.” He can’t go down that hall. “That’s okay. I’ll grab them and be out in a minute.”

  He doesn’t argue and follows Haven into the backyard, where the pool has an edgeless design, making it seem like someone could walk off the cliff and right into the ocean. When Haven was little, the design made me nervous, but we both adapted. Now I love the vastness of the view. I also like the short, narrow, rocky walk down the cliff to the private beach.

  The spacious hall is full of family photos. From the linen closet, I take out two towels. I often host people in the living room and kitchen for functions, fundraisers, and the occasional interview. Those spaces are devoid of anything personal. Beyond that, the walls become a shrine to the people who matter to me most. Front and center is always Haven.

  When I open the sliding door to the deck, she’s showing off her swimming skills, and he’s watching in awe. “She’s incredible, Ellie.” He smiles as she surfaces. “She said you taught her?”

  “It was a family effort, I think. But yeah, we spend a lot of time together in this pool.”

  “She says she can kayak, canoe, snorkel, and she’s been diving?” His expression turns skeptical. “Is this kid really sixteen or something?”

  “She understands physical things quickly.” I try to ignore the hollow pit in my stomach. “She’s very sporty.” Wyatt picked up many skills on movie sets. He has always been a quick study too.

  He nods, and his brow creases in thought.

  “Watch this.” Haven pushes off the far side of the pool.

  “It’s a shame about her dad. She said she’s only met him a couple times.”

  “You asked her about her dad?” A balloon of panic forms in my stomach.

  “Yeah, sorry. We were chatting. She said she got her sportiness from her dad.” He shrugs as though Haven’s revelations are normal, natural.

  Every once in a while, Haven’s quickness and ease with lying makes me concerned about her teenage years. She didn’t lie to Wyatt, but she misled him. I’m grateful and horrified.

  “Right.” I take off my clothes while I think of something to say.

  Haven pops up beside Wyatt and looks between us. “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t think Ellie’s pleased I asked about your dad.”

  Haven nods as though his assumption makes sense. I brace myself. “Well, Auntie Ellie, it’s true, though. I do wish I knew my dad better.” She gives me a pointed look. “I wish there was some way that could happen.” She grins and drops under the surface. I can’t blow up at her with Wyatt here, and she knows it. If the stakes weren’t so high, her behavior might even be amusing.

  I slip into the water and do a few laps to clear my mind. Haven challenges Wyatt to a swimming race. He creates so many waves I worry I’ll need to refill the pool. His strategy seems to be to drown Haven with his thrashing, but she’s adept at swimming in open water and overtakes him.

  “Let’s go again.” Wyatt huffs at the edge of the pool. “But I need a head start.”

  Haven puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head. “You’re the adult. You don’t get a head start.”

  Wyatt gestures to his heaving chest. “I almost drowned.”

  Haven giggles. “You almost drowned yourself. Who taught you how to swim?”

  “No one, Short Stuff. My parents stuck around for the money and the drugs, not for me.”

  “Wyatt!” I exclaim. Why is he talking about drugs with our daughter? I’m at the opposite end of the pool, but I hear him loud and clear.

  “Uggs—the money for the Uggs.” His expression turns helpless. “They loved those expensive boots.”

  “I heard drugs,” Haven says in a singsong voice.

  “Okay.” Wyatt points his finger at her. “I said drugs. But if you only remember one thing I tell you, remember this. Drugs ruin families. They don’t bring them closer together.”

  Haven’s smile fades. I wade through the pool to stand beside her. “How much longer for the food?” I throw my arm around Haven’s petite shoulders.

  Wyatt checks his phone, which he’d propped up by the towel. “Five minutes. I’ll get out and get it ready. You ladies hungry?” He hoists himself out.

  The muscles across his back and shoulders ripple. Why does he have to be in such good shape? I’m certainly hungry for something.

  “Sorry—I shouldn’t have . . . that was dumb.” Wyatt dries off, and he nods at Haven, who has swum away.

  I shrug. Haven will have something to say about his words later, I am sure, but not for the reasons he thinks. “You didn’t mean anything by it.”

  He gives a slight nod before he disappears into the house.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wyatt

  Ten Years Ago

  Before today, I’d never thought about the heaviness of a casket, the weight of a body once the soul was gone. But it keeps running through my head as I hoist Kabir’s coffin onto my shoulder. It’s heavy and light, which makes no sense. I mixed too many pills before the ceremony. Since I was eating oxy and Adderall like candy, I didn’t care.

  My knees are wobbly, and I’m trying not to stumble out the door to the hearse. There are so many cameras and photographers, I wish I’d put one of the pills back in the bottle. Just one.

  Ellie clutches Isaac’s hand. He looks vacant, checked out. My mirrored expression will probably be splashed across the gossip rags tomorrow. We slide the casket into the rear of the hearse. Other people are talking around me, but I can’t focus on anything or anyone.

  Ellie moves beside me. Her hand starts on my lower back and travels to my shoulder. I close my eyes. Without her, I’d be lost. She’s earthquake-proof and nothing shakes her. I turn, scooping her to me, and I bury my face in her neck while she squeezes me tight.

  “Isaac and Tanvi are coming in our limo to the graveside service, right?” she asks into my ear. “I can’t find Anna.”

  I shrug. My
brain is fuzzy. My memory’s checked out for the day.

  “I think so. Tanvi said something about it.” She leaves me to go to Isaac’s mother. Ellie’s phone is in her hand, and she’s texting someone. When she glances up, her expression brims with concern. God, I love her face. I could sit and watch her age minute by minute and never get bored.

  Kyle appears at my shoulder. “Sir, Ellie requested I get you to the car. She’s escorting Tanvi and Isaac.”

  Of course she did. I yank at my shirt collar, which is always too tight. As we walk to the car, Kyle is silent. That’s not unusual. We’ve known each other for years, and the silence is often comfortable.

  My mind drifts to Kabir. Massive heart attacks shouldn’t be a thing. Fifty-year-old men who act more like my father than my father shouldn’t die out of the blue. When I’ve thought about that over the last few days, I’ve reached for a glass of lean or one of my pills more than usual. My life could be half over right now and I’d never know.

  Cameras follow us and click as we walk. I glance at Kyle and then I stop in my tracks. “Where’s Ellie?” My heart pumps in my chest. She’s been swarmed before. When I went into the crowd to get her, I threw punches at anyone who blocked my path. There was a court date for that one.

  “Ellie organized for Tim and David from the security firm to come today, and she’s with them. She thought it might be a zoo.” Kyle glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “She was worried about you and Isaac, sir.” He motions with his hand for us to continue walking to the vehicle.

  We get to the limo first, and I slide in. Kyle has the divide down between us. “Ellie’s always looking after me.”

  “She looks after all of you,” Kyle says.

  The back door opens and Isaac stumbles in, followed by Tanvi, and finally Ellie slides in beside me. She squeezes my leg, and I loop her arm through mine, lacing our fingers together.

  “Anna is still out there,” Tanvi says, and she peers out the window. “We need to wait.”

  “Isaac.” With my free hand, I shake his knee. “You in there, man?”