Pack Up the Moon

by Rachael Herron

  This was the man from whom she’d kept the biggest secret in the world. She should tell him. The very first words to fall from her lips should be, I had your child.

  But Nolan spoke first. “I found you.” His voice was hoarse.

  “You did.”

  “I love you.”

  And once he said those words, all her courage deserted her. He loved her? Four years and a lifetime later? How dared he just show up? She could be living with Greg, for all he knew. She could be married.

  Kate could still taste him on her upper lip.

  She took the beer Becky passed her and turned away from Nolan.

  “Wait,” he said, putting his hand on her elbow. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  There was so much she should say. And yet, her mouth stayed shut, the words locked so far inside her she couldn’t even feel their shape.

  He followed her outside, past the pool of vomit, stepping over the legs of the passed-out girl who was now laughing in her sleep. There at the edge of the party, at a dark table that held two overflowing ashtrays and one abandoned bong, Kate sat and kicked off her heels. She undid her hair. As it fell around her shoulders, she watched Nolan’s eyes burn. “Can I sit down?”

  “Why?” Kate honestly wanted to know, even though it was the wrong word, not what she should have said.

  “Because I love you.”

  “How can you know that?” Loneliness felt like an ache, deep inside the marrow of her leg bones.

  “I can’t ever start to tell you how sorry I am,” he said, clutching the top of the wooden chair. He swayed, even though Kate doubted he’d had a drink. “But I want to try. I want to tell you for the rest of our lives. I transferred to Berkeley on purpose. To find you.”

  “So what? You’ve just been waiting for tonight? For four years? No e-mail? Not one fucking phone call?”

  “I didn’t know. Until I saw you today . . . I didn’t know, Kate. I’ve been an idiot.”

  Kate sipped her beer and tried to keep her eyes on the people dancing. “We’re twenty. Who knows anything at twenty?”

  “My parents were eighteen when they fell in love,” he said, leaning toward her. “And they’re still in love so much they barely see me. How old were your parents?”

  They’d been nineteen. Sonia still kissed Kate’s father’s picture every night before she went to sleep. She’d kissed the picture more than she’d ever kissed Kate.

  “Anomalous.”

  “Or,” he said, “young love is in our blood. Our birthright.”

  He was so cocky. The way he tossed the word about, “love,” like it cost the same as all the other words, “chair” and “floor” and “Tuesday,” maddened her.

  Nolan sat, turning the chair so that he could lean in toward her. She could just make out the wings of his shoulder blades. “I did everything wrong.”

  “Yeah,” she granted, trying to pretend she couldn’t hear the ice melting and cracking inside her.

  “You never answered, though. I called, again and again. I came to your house a year later, when we were visiting, and your mother wouldn’t open the door to me.”

  It was a jolt—Sonia had never mentioned that.

  Nolan rubbed his eyes, then took one of her hands in his. The chill left her fingers as soon as he touched her. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making that up to you. If you let me.”

  Part of Kate, the part that touched his hand, longed to say, Yes, yes, yes. The other part, the part that still mourned for her unknown daughter late at night, the part that was lying to him by keeping quiet, made her say shakily, “No.”

  “Will you let me try?”

  “No,” she said, but the word hung, untethered, in front of them, about to fall.

  “Please, Kate. Let me find you.”

  She leaned forward. He did the same. Their eyes closed as their foreheads touched. They breathed together. She peeked through her eyelashes at his face, and the shape of his mouth was so familiar and sexy and at the same time so dear. The planes of his cheeks were higher than she’d remembered and she felt a little shock of surprise as she noticed them again. She leaned forward, sliding her cheek against his until she could rest her head against his shoulder—but what she was really doing was reaching her arms around him, to see if his shoulder blades still felt like the wings were hiding underneath, and yes—she breathed a sigh of relief—there they were.

  “I’m not letting you go this time,” he said against her ear, and she trembled.

  “Promise me that we’ll never talk about the past,” she said.

  “I’ll promise you anything.”

  Kate pulled back. “I mean it. If we . . . if we do anything with this, the past is gone. We start again. Here. Fresh. As if we had nothing before.”

  “But what we had was perfect . . .”

  “We lost everything we had. We start over or we do nothing. At all.”

  “I promise. A new start, Katie.”

  “We’ll see,” she said.

  Nolan leaned forward and kissed her. “I found you.”

  He’d found her. Even more than that, he’d been looking.

  Under Kate’s worry grew a thin green tendril of hope.

  April 1999

  • • •

  Three years later, on a plane somewhere east of the Nevada border, Kate and Nolan made a bet.

  “It’s your first trip to Vegas, and it’s important to make a bet early,” Nolan said. “It gets us in the right frame of mind.”

  “You’re planning on us being high rollers?”

  “I always spend at least forty dollars gambling in Vegas.”

  Kate sucked in a shocked breath. “That much?”

  He nodded solemnly. “Stick with me, kid. I’ll show you the ropes. This is gonna be a fancy wedding.”

  “Probably the fanciest ever. I can’t believe we’re not telling your parents.”

  Nolan pressed the bridge of his nose. “I know. They’d fly in from Maui in a heartbeat if they knew we were doing it. But taking Dad away from his golf? They’d just be keeping an eye on the time, wanting to get back. Are you sad we didn’t tell Sonia?”

  Kate laughed. “No.”

  “She used to like me. I know she did. I’ll win her back somehow.”

  “I hope so.” Kate looked out the window, seeing nothing. Since Kate and Nolan had gotten back together, she’d barely had contact with Sonia even though they lived half an hour apart. Sonia always claimed busyness at the aquatics center, but Kate knew it was the hundred-foot wall that had grown between them. Sonia had protected her once—keeping Nolan away when he’d come back. And now Kate could feel the disapproval radiating from her mother in unhappy waves, could feel it every time she showed her mother a new painting, every time she heard Sonia humph when she talked about the art class she was teaching at the local charter school. Nolan was someone Sonia had dismissed, and once Sonia’s approval was lost, it was almost impossible to get back. No one knew that better than Kate.

  Sonia did, thankfully, approve of the fact that Nolan was almost done with law school, top of his class. That was something, at least. Everyone approved of that, even Nolan’s parents. He was doing something right.

  And it was fair, wasn’t it? Their parents, both sets of whom had clung to each other more tightly than they’d clung to their respective children, would understand them honoring the same type of relationship, right?

  Turning to face Kate, his elbow wedged between them in the cramped seats, Nolan said, “Are you sure you don’t mind? The opposite of fancy. Will you regret it later? That we Vegas’d it?”

  She put a hand against his cheek and felt the stubble starting along his jaw. “Even if we were married by a midget Elvis in drag, I would think it was a better wedding than any other in the whole world. And besides, I don’t want momentous.”

  “No?”

  “I don’t even want romantic, really. I just want you.”

  Nolan colored, a deep rose lighting the top
of his cheeks, something she knew only happened when he was almost overcome. He cleared his throat. “Okay, so now we have to bet something in honor of sighting the city.”

  “I bet I can get your clothes off within three minutes of stepping into the hotel room.”

  “Sucker bet.” Nolan pointed. “There it is.”

  Kate looked outside at the desert, and there, off in the distance, was an enormous sprawl of buildings, the outer lines distinct against the barrenness of the desert. “All of that is Las Vegas?”

  “Yep.”

  He’d been to Las Vegas a couple of times with friends, and she wanted to ask if he’d come here with another girl while they were apart, but that broke their unspoken rule of never talking about the past. But she’d put her heart back in his hands again, knowing the choice was hers, and it felt somehow richer—more true—for it. “It’s big. I bet you can’t throw a quarter across the main drag.”

  “Waste of good money. I could probably win a million dollars with that exact quarter in a slot machine.”

  Folding her arms across her chest, she said, “So what, big guy? What’s worth betting on?”

  “This,” he said, serious again, and so very Nolan. “This is.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes. Good god, we’re getting married. Do we need witnesses?”

  “Won’t the chapel provide them? Like in the movies?”

  Kate shook her head. “How many weddings have they witnessed? Half those end in divorce, and I don’t want their bad juju.”

  “Old witnesses are used up. I can see that.” Nolan fiddled with the tray table lock. “What about this? I bet I can get two people on the street to witness our wedding for us.”

  “Total strangers?”

  “Why not? We’re not telling anyone else.”

  It didn’t feel right to Kate. Not just anyone. “Not a good bet. They could be drunks. Or murderers.”

  “Killers on a Vegas binge.”

  “Right. It can’t be just anyone.”

  Nolan pursed his lips as if he were going to whistle. “I bet I can find two people completely in love to be our witnesses.”

  That was better. “They have to be as in love as we are.”

  “Naturally.”

  “What do you get?” she asked.

  He thought for a moment. “You have to tell me your biggest secret.”

  That was the last thing she could do. “What makes you think I have any?”

  “You do.” He cleared his throat. “Sometimes I can almost see it.”

  Uneasy, Kate shifted in her seat. She fit her hand into his and leaned against his shoulder, keeping her eye on the city as it unrolled toward them. “A couple as in love as we are. That’s going to be hard to find. Probably impossible.”

  “That’s what makes it fun.”

  • • •

  Despite the cool spring weather outside, the air conditioner was on full blast at the House of Eternal Love and Friendship. The chaplain, Roy, wore a black puffy coat over his “clerical” garb, a cheap-looking dark polyester robe and white collar crookedly affixed. Kate shivered.

  “You need witnesses? My employee”—he gestured to the girl who couldn’t be more than eighteen filing her nails in a side room—“and me can do that. Fifty extra dollars. No charge if she cries.”

  “She cries?” Alarmed, Kate looked up from the papers on the counter in front of them. “Is that normal?”

  “She’s good at it. A nice tip doesn’t hurt, though.”

  Nolan signed one page and slid it to Kate. “We don’t want her to cry. We’ll have our own witnesses.”

  “Where?” The chaplain peered around them as if their witnesses were hiding somewhere.

  “How much time do we have?”

  Roy glanced at his oversized watch. “Thirty minutes, fast wedding, you can be back here in twenty and we’ll still get it done.”

  Kate heard Nolan give his nervous giggle, and it infected her. “Speed wedding,” she said. “Let’s get married lots. Next time, we’ll do it on ice skates.”

  As they left the chapel, Nolan said, “Over Niagara Falls in a barrel.”

  “Skydiving from a helicopter.”

  “Underwater in scuba gear,” he said, ushering her to the right on the crowded sidewalk, pointing out a bench.

  “Mile twenty-five of a marathon.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her and pulled out a red handkerchief that had come with his new suit, using it to dust off the seat for her. “I’m not so into the marathon idea.”

  “Okay. Triathlon.”

  “We can discuss it.”

  Kate arranged her dress—an outrageous red cocktail dress from a boutique in the hotel. It was knee-length, covered in sequins and small burgundy bugle beads. It clacked quietly as she moved, and the weight was delicious on her shoulders. She felt like a gaudy flapper and wished she had a cigarette holder even though she’d never smoked. Nolan wore a red suit made of some shiny material that gleamed in the cool sunlight. “You kind of look like a pimp,” she noted.

  “Fantastic! That’ll make finding people that want to help us out even easier!” He sat next to her. “Hey—” He nudged her. “How about them?” He nodded toward a young couple strolling hand in hand toward them. The man wore an oversized white T-shirt that read “GUMMY” and the woman’s bangs were three inches tall.

  “Divorce pending,” Kate said.

  The couple paused to kiss.

  “Cynic,” said Nolan. “Why?”

  “You see her bag? Coach. Easy three hundred. And look at his shirt. Thrift store central.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “He bought a new pink T-shirt that says ‘GUMMY’? On purpose?” She wrinkled her nose. “Won’t last two years.”

  “Okay.” Nolan sat back.

  The parade of humanity in front of them looked like a mixture of every part of America—every race, gender, social class. Prostitutes on heels higher than the Stratosphere roller coaster wobbled by, followed by women leading tiny dogs dressed in couture. Couples of all compositions strolled past, and although some looked very happy, none were exactly right.

  “What about them?” said Nolan.

  Both the man and the woman carried weight around their middles, and their steps were tired. They were pale, with forearms and cheeks stained bright pink by too much sun. Even in the cool air, they sweated through their matching “Vegas Baby” T-shirts. They held hands and walked with their gazes up at the tall, flashing buildings that lined the Strip.

  “No,” said Kate. “No one from Michigan.”

  “You don’t know that. And why are you prejudiced against a whole state?”

  “I’m not. It was just fun to say.”

  As the couple walked past, the woman cast a longing eye at the bench. There was a space next to Nolan, but not a very big one.

  He jumped to his feet. “Would you like to sit?”

  “Oh, gracious,” she huffed. “Bill? Do you mind?”

  Bill shook his head. “Of course I don’t mind. Sit as long as you want. We’ll call a cab if you get too tired.”

  “I’m not too tired. I’m still just so excited.” She smiled cheerfully at Kate and Nolan, and a gap between her front teeth made her face look sweet and less exhausted. “Newlyweds, you know.” Kate felt a flutter of surprise—they had to be in their late fifties, and they fit so well together she’d assumed they’d been together forever. “We’re having the best time. Where are you from?”

  “California. Bay Area,” said Kate. “What about you?”

  “Detroit.” She held her purse on her lap as if it were a large sack of salt. It looked like it might actually physically hurt her to hold it, and Kate was opening her mouth to ask if she wanted to set it on the bench between them when the man, Bill, stepped forward.

  “Let me hold your purse, love.” He took the brightly colored bag and held it easily in front of him, rocking on his heels. “There. That’s better. She’s had the cancer, you know. Sh
e’s getting better but I still like to baby my Diane. How long you kids been together?”

  “Since high school—” started Nolan.

  “Since college,” corrected Kate. “Three years.”

  Diane confided, “Us two met in our twenties but it took till we were both divorced and I was sick for us to finally get it right. I finally got my football star.”

  Bill smoothed his thinning hair, grinning while he wiped the sweat from his brow. “And I finally got my beauty queen.”

  A look passed between them, and Kate felt its warmth wash over her. She met Nolan’s eyes. He nodded.

  • • •

  There was no Elvis, not even on the chapel stereo. They asked for Etta James, not Pachelbel.

  “Do you take this woman to be your wedded wife? To have—”

  “I do,” said Nolan. The chaplain fixed him with a glare.

  “To have and to hold, from this—”

  “I do, I do, I do.”

  Bill and Diane, standing to either side of them, laughed. “I think he does, Preach,” said Bill. Diane clutched her spindly bouquet of daisies tighter to her chest. Goose bumps rose on Kate’s arms.

  “I do,” Nolan said again for good measure.

  The chaplain gave up and looked at Kate. “What about you? Same thing?”

  “I do!” Without waiting, Kate put her arms around Nolan’s neck and held on as if he might fly away, taking her away with him. She kissed him, hard, so he would know.

  Against her mouth, he whispered, “Now tell me that secret.”

  “I missed you every moment we were apart.” It was true, even if it wasn’t a secret, and Nolan wrapped his arms around her even tighter. Kate heard the click of Diane’s camera behind her.

  She hadn’t needed momentous. She hadn’t even wanted romantic. But Kate got both, all, everything, and she felt stunned by the brightness of the future suddenly spread out beneath them. And if Nolan ever did sprout those wings she suspected were there, just underneath his skin, if he ever flew away, she knew one thing: she would hold tight to his neck and wrap her legs around his body, sticking with him no matter what.