Written in the Stars

by Rachael Eliker

  “I suppose we’ll have to agree to disagree, then because it’s your word against mine,” I said tightly. Irked, I turned my attention to Robby, the one subject I know my mother didn’t disapprove of. “So, Robby. What’ve you been up to lately? I haven’t seen you in, what, four years?”

  “Five and a half,” he corrected. “I’ve been wondering what you’ve been up to, especially since Stella joined our accounting team. I get the basic info from your sister, but it’d be nice to hear it straight from you.”

  Mom jumped sharply in her seat. “I have an idea.”

  Oh, no. Whatever it was, she looked entirely too happy, which probably meant it was going to make me miserable.

  “Since you’re going to be in town until Tuesday morning, why don’t the two of you catch up over dinner tomorrow night?”

  My heart took an express trip to my toes at her suggestion, and I was keenly aware that all eyes were on me at the table. Robby stared at his food, his entire face pink at being put on the spot. Warren outright stared, looking entirely too invested in my decision.

  Perfectly aware I was being vindictive in wanting Warren to be jealous, I knew a date with Robby would hit him where it hurt.

  “What do you say, Robby? Want to have dinner together?”

  Chapter Nine

  It was a quarter after nine when I descended the staircase in my robe and lightweight pajamas, my hair braided down the length of my back. I’d scrubbed my face clean of the makeup I’d put on before Warren had picked me up in the beater truck he was driving, and it felt glorious to be unadorned and unpresumptuous. I was exhausted from the day as a dozen emotions chased themselves in my head, and all I wanted was to curl up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and watch fluffy romantic comedies where the heroine’s tragedies were hilarious and heartwarming instead of mortifying.

  “Want some popcorn?” Stella asked as she walked out of the kitchen, still looking as flawless as she had when I first saw her.

  “How come you always look so pretty while I’m always a hot mess?”

  Stella sighed. “I don’t know where you get these silly notions. Other than longer hair, we’re practically mirror images.”

  In each of Stella’s hand was a bowl of fresh popcorn, still warm from being made. Mom had long since taught us the art of stove-popped popcorn so we’d never have to rely on an inferior bag of microwave kernels to satisfy our cravings.

  “Oh, bless you,” I said with great relief. I would’ve wrapped my arms around her for her intuitive nature, but I was already hugging the bowl to my chest, messily snarfing down handfuls of popcorn.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Stella said, wrapping her free arm around me in a quick squeeze. “It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve actually been together.”

  “Not since last Thanksgiving,” I agreed around a half-masticated mouthful of perfectly salted popcorn. “Plane tickets are so expensive, especially on a secretary’s budget.”

  “About that…” Stella lowered her voice and her eyes flashed toward the living room where Mom was quietly knitting, and Dad was perusing an especially thick Sunday newspaper. “You really think your time as a secretary is coming to an end?”

  I felt myself clamming up. Too many people seemed to think either I was chasing a silly dream or that I’d reached the peak of my abilities. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself this was Stella and she’d been one of my biggest supporters since I told her I’d been selected for the show.

  “If this tour goes well, Harper Music is prepared to offer me a spot as Tad Fisher’s opening act during his summer concert tour, so yeah, I guess being a secretary is on hold. For now.”

  “Wow, Tad Fisher!” Stella’s face brightened, and I could see that she was about to break out in full-on shrieks and ecstatic bouncing until I shushed her, tossing my head toward our parents in the living room.

  “I’m so happy for you. I always knew you’d do great things,” Stella said in a toned-down whisper.

  My throat constricted because of her confidence in me. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  “You have to catch me up on all the latest music biz gossip. Like is Ruby Hawkins really pregnant?”

  My eyebrows shot up my forehead. I’d heard my own rumors but had yet to hear it from her directly. “Where did you hear that?”

  Stella shrugged casually. “I may or may not do my fair share of grocery checkout aisle magazine reading.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Mom asked, stretching her neck so she could see us from her perch beneath her reading lamp, lit with such an especially high wattage that it could’ve doubled as a tanning bed.

  “Boys,” Stella lied, shooting me a quick wink.

  I followed Stella into the living room and plopped onto the couch at the opposite end of her. Dropping my head onto the armrest, I closed my eyes and sighed contentedly. I was enjoying the challenge and fulfillment of publicly singing, but the shy, introverted girl within still needed quiet time to unwind. I opened my eyes and studied the swirling plaster patterns that had been stamped on the ceiling, making shapes and creatures out of the textures like I’d done when I was younger. Eventually my thoughts drifted to Warren, and I wondered what he was doing back at the hotel he was staying at. I’m sure he’d appreciated the meal but doubted my agreeing to go to dinner with Robby was how he figured the evening would end. It was his fault, anyway. He made it sound like I was the catalyst to our breakup while he was an innocent bystander.

  “It’s nice to see you as you, again,” Dad said, peeking at me over his newspaper.

  Lifting my head off the couch, I asked, “What do you mean? I’m always me.”

  Folding up his paper, he tapped it against his knee. “I mean it’s nice to see my daughter without her face coated with makeup. You’re beautiful, Eloise.”

  My mouth opened and closed like a beached guppy. “All I had on was a little eyeshadow, mascara, and some lipstick.”

  “Lipstick that made you look like a vampire that just finished a bloodmeal,” Dad said with a chuckle. “All I’m saying is if you knocked the makeup down a few notches, you’d be more attractive. When you came over for dinner, you had to be wearing a couple pounds of makeup that would take twenty minutes to wash completely off. Both my daughters are good-looking just the way they are, no modification needed.”

  I swung my legs over the edge of the couch and sat stiffly, unsure how to respond to my father’s open criticism. “Red lipstick is a fun accessory once in a while, Dad. It’s not like I went and had a nose job.”

  “Altering your appearance either permanently or temporarily still comes down to vanity,” he answered calmly.

  “I don’t hear you calling it vanity when men trim their nose and ear hair.” Stella muffled a laugh by putting another few kernels in her mouth, watching the family drama unfold like it never had before.

  “It’s not just your drastically altered appearance, honey,” Mom said, setting her knitting in her lap. “We’re concerned about your future. You’ve been wasting away your time doing things that haven’t led you anywhere.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice quivering with anger and my cheeks flushing. “I haven’t been bumming around New York City for the past two years. I’ve been working hard and accomplishing plenty, like getting myself on America’s Next Pop Star and landing this tour. If you haven’t noticed, it’s kind of a big deal!”

  “With people like that Warren character?” Mom raised an eyebrow in question. “I don’t want you hanging out with him anymore. Especially after catching you…you know.”

  I clenched my jaw, and stubbornly denied I had any idea what she was talking about. “No, Mom. After what?”

  “After finding you in the front room.”

  I pressed my hands against my skull to keep my head from exploding. “Mom, you have it all wrong. We weren’t in the middle of some kind of depraved foreplay when you walked in. I had a clumsy moment, tripped and landed on him. He
caught me as best he could with one hand and was keeping the other as far away as possible so there wouldn’t be any question about what his hands were doing while I was sprawled out on him. You saw it out of context is all. Warren’s a great guy.”

  I surprised myself by my last declaration, made boldly and without thinking. Warren was a great guy when I took myself and our relationship out of the equation.

  My mother sniffed and touched one of her dangling pearl earrings. “Well, that’s not what it looked like to me.”

  “Then you’ll have to take my word for it,” I said sharply.

  “It’s more than your makeup and the characters you’re spending your time with,” Mom continued to press. “What about your career?”

  “What about it?”

  “You can’t keep bouncing around from job to job while you try to figure things out. You need to stick to one thing and build on that. That’s how you have a solid foundation that’s sure to bring prosperity and stability throughout your life.”

  “I am. I have,” I stuttered, feeling so flustered by my anger that it was difficult for me to speak. “I’ve been a secretary ever since I moved to New York, and now, I’m pursuing my career in music. If I keep it up, things are looking really promising.”

  Mom and Dad exchanged a look, and Dad chimed in, “We didn’t pay for piano lessons all those years so you could go on stage and make a fool of yourself.”

  “A fool!” I cried. “What you talking about?”

  “Some of our friends have shared photos of you from clippings from those trashy magazines of you dancing on stage in some very revealing clothing. If we would have known that piano lessons were going to lead to such a salacious lifestyle, we would have seriously reconsidered signing you up.”

  An outsider listening in would’ve assumed I’d become a topless showgirl by their level of disapproval, not a rising pop star that had the potential to be a respectable force in the music industry.

  I rose, feeling like I was lifting the weight of the world with me. With a trembling voice, I said, “I’m afraid I don’t see the new trajectory of my life as a tragedy. For the first time in my life, everything is exciting. I’m terrified out of my mind every time I go on stage, I have no idea what I’m doing, but you know what? I’m happy, and until I feel otherwise, I’m going to continue on the path I’m on.”

  Slamming my half-eaten popcorn bowl on the end table next to the couch, I almost hesitated to pick up the popcorn that spilled everywhere but marched off instead. The old Eloise would’ve done that, but now, I was too distressed to care. If my mother was so bothered by spilled popcorn but not that she’d upset her daughter and couldn’t accept that I was happy with my life, then she could get the vacuum out and clean it up.

  Storming up to my room, I pounded each foot on the step for emphasis, childish as it was. At the top of the stairs, I took two rights and went into my room, heartily shoving the door closed with a satisfying bang. Throwing myself across my old bed, adorned with the cat quilt my grandmother had hand-stitched and gifted me on my sixteenth birthday, I choked back the sobs as hot tears welled in my eyes and streamed down my cheeks.

  I watched the red numbers on the digital clock tick by while I tried to unsnarl all of the emotions crowding my consciousness. Downstairs, my mother had pulled out the vacuum, and judging by how long it was running, had probably moved every piece of furniture to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. By half-past ten, I heard a small knock on the door.

  “Go away, Mother. I’m still not ready to talk to you.”

  The door swung open, and I turned to see Stella peering in at me. “What’s that Jennifer Lopez song? I Ain’t Your Momma?”

  I rolled over onto my back and laughed, throwing one of my pillows at her but missing her completely and instead knocking over a stack of old CD’s off their stand.

  “I see your aim hasn’t gotten any better,” Stella quipped as she shut the door behind her and took a seat at the end of my bed.

  I clicked on the small lamp on the nightstand and adjusted myself into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard and hugging my remaining pillow close to my chest. I’d give anything to have Ripley in my lap at that moment, but a limp pillow was going to have to do.

  “How are Mom and Dad?” I asked quietly, unsure if they were snooping right outside the door. I wasn’t ready for them to know I wasn’t still white-hot furious with them but also felt guilty about raising my voice. It wasn’t like I didn’t know what kind of people they were.

  “Still in shock, I think,” said Stella. She picked at a loose thread on the quilt before looking up to me and smiling. “They’re a bit surprised how strong your reaction was. To them, you’re still shy, soft-spoken Eloise, not a woman who’s confident and sure of herself.”

  I released a massive sigh that flapped my lips together. “I’m not sure of this confident woman you speak of, but I know I’ve changed since I moved out. It’s only natural that things progress.”

  Stella tipped her chin down at me and smirked. “You know change makes them break out in hives.”

  I laughed. “That’s why I’m afraid of being too much like them. So much of that kind of thinking has rubbed off on me. It didn’t get me anywhere until I decided to do something out of my comfort zone, and the second I did, miracles started happening. I mean, I’m singing for people. On stage. Could you have ever imagined that would be me?”

  “I always knew you had a gorgeous voice, and it was a shame you were too scared to share it with anyone,” Stella agreed. “It was a lot of fun to see you performing on America’s Next Pop Star. I never missed an episode and got everyone I knew to vote for you.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured, grateful I had a quiet, steady cheerleader in my sister, regardless of what my parents thought about my scandalous new lifestyle. Stretching out my legs, then crisscrossing one over the other, I said, “Enough about me. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

  Stella lay down across the end of my bed and propped her head up on her hand. “We seriously talked on the phone less than three days ago. Not much has happened since then.”

  “True, but I feel like even on the phone, you’re holding back. I mean, what about guys? You aren’t seeing anyone regularly, though I get the impression there is someone who you have an eye on.”

  Stella shrugged and avoided my eyes. “There might be someone.”

  “Ooo, do tell.”

  Stella’s gaze wandered away from me and back to my cat-crazy quilt. “Don’t go thinking I’m getting engaged just yet. I’m firmly in the friendzone.” She laughed, but it was tainted by disappointment. “It sucks.”

  “I get it,” I said softly, acutely aware of my sister’s pain. “Keep your chin up and remember you’re a catch for any guy lucky enough to snag you.”

  “Yeah,” Stella said, her countenance deflated. “It’s fine. It’ll all work out. Besides, can’t know happiness without knowing a bit of what sadness is like, can we?”

  “You’re like my own personal life coach, you know that? Maybe you should become a motivational speaker.”

  “A little optimism never killed anyone, did it?”

  “We might never know.”

  Stella scoffed at me. “And what about you? I read things about you and Warren, you know.”

  “He already told everyone we dated. What about it?”

  Stella belted out a laugh and rolled onto her back. “Don’t you dare try that with me. I’m as observant as a fly on the wall, and I saw how you looked at Warren during dinner. You’re infatuated with him still, and if I’m not mistaken, you’re only going out with Robby to make Warren jealous, which is a very childish tactic, if I might point out.”

  “Well, you know me. I’m all sorts of irresponsible lately.”

  Stella pushed her brunette asymmetrical bob behind her ear. “What’s the matter, then? You already defended him to Mom and Dad by telling them he’s a great guy, and saying he’s attractive is a gross understatement
.”

  “He is pretty handsome, I’ll give you that,” I said dreamily, remembering the exact shade of brown of his eyes and how his square jaw made plenty of room on his face for his wide smile, a phenomenon I’d seen more and more since spending time with him on the concert tour.

  “Handsome?” Stella snorted. “Eloise, that man is hotter than a summer afternoon in Alabama. If you’re not going to go for him, you have to know there are plenty of other women who’ll crawl over each other to get his attention. You of all people have to know how desirable a commodity a hot, polite, and fun guy is. Plus, he can sing. That’s a grand slam of qualities right there.”

  “I know,” I said as a familiar choking feeling took hold in my throat. “It’s just that he hurt me once before, and it burned a hole right through my heart. I’m afraid to let him in again.”

  Stella sat up and took my hand. “Look. I don’t know all the details of your relationship or what caused it to fail, but from my viewpoint, it seems pretty obvious that you need to give it another shot. Take what was good about it when it first started, and push that into the future. Leave the heartache and disappointment in the past.”

  I stared at my sister, wondering when she’d become so wise and mature beyond her twenty-two years. I was nearly halfway through my twenties and still felt like a clumsy teenager trapped in a woman’s body.

  “I’m telling you, motivational speaking. You’d be fantastic at it.”

  Stella laughed, and I joined in, relieved that I’d gotten some of my feelings off my chest. For the next hour and a half, talk switched gear to inconsequential things, giggling on my bed until my stomach cramped. I indulged her curiosity about the life of a pop singer by filling her in on some of the juicy, behind-the-scenes details that even the media couldn’t manage to get a hold of for their gossip columns, like how Vanessa had a stipulation in her contract that required every time she made an appearance for Harper Music, her dressing room had to have special light bulbs installed so she looked her best as she fussed over herself in front of the mirror, and that the entire room had to be spritzed with her signature perfume before she entered.