Wishes Under a Starlit Sky

by Lucy Knott

  ‘Your Mum said just a silly accident with the axe this morning and slipping on some ice.’ My stomach lurches. I don’t want to know more right now for fear of being sick.

  ‘OK, let’s go. Are you OK to come with me?’ I ask, already knowing the answer but at the same time not wanting to pull Madi away from such a prestigious evening for our company.

  ‘I’m right behind you,’ she replies without missing a beat. We hadn’t planned on being in Colorado to start the next chapter of our lives until late October. However, my dad being stable isn’t registering in my brain; he’s in hospital and I need to get to him. I’m reminding myself to breathe and remember all that I have learnt this past year and a half about going with the flow and keeping a level head when facing challenges.

  We’re sitting in silence in the back of a black cab on the way to Madi’s house. Madi is holding my hand until I retrieve my phone from my over-the-shoulder crocheted purse and return Mum’s call.

  ‘Hey, Mum, hey,’ I manage before tears start trickling down my face. ‘Mum, what’s going on? Are you OK?’ I stutter. Madi puts her hand on my knee and scoots up next to me to wipe my face with a tissue. I rest my head against hers so she can hear my mum too, and for comfort.

  ‘He’s doing fine, sweetheart. Goodness me, he just wanted to give us all a fright,’ Mum says. I know she is trying to keep me calm, but her voice is shaky, and a nervous flutter of a laugh escapes her when she speaks. I know this has shaken her up. My strong mum sounds broken. ‘We’re going to be fine, girls. Look after each other for me, please. I do worry, but I know how much light you both have in you.’

  ‘We’re coming to see you, Mum, OK? We will be there soon. We love you. You look after yourself and Dad for us too. Please tell him we’re coming.’ She doesn’t even fight me on cancelling our plans and heading to Colorado sooner. I try not to dwell on it, but my heart is pounding in my throat. This means she needs me.

  ‘OK, girls. We will see you soon. We love you both,’ she says, her voice a humble whisper. I place my mobile back into my bag just as we arrive outside Madi’s. We ask the taxi driver to wait and rush inside. We both make a dash to the bedroom and strip off our evening dresses, trading them for sweatpants and matching hoodies. The house is neat, but there’s no time to worry about that now. I throw a few more clothing items into my backpack and check we have our work bags ready to go. Madi had planned to keep a room locked for bits and pieces that we’re keeping here in London when we move, but there’s not enough time to organize that now; moving is happening now. I do a quick scan of the downstairs while Madi sees to the upstairs and less than twenty minutes later we’re back in the taxi on our way to the airport.

  *

  I don’t think I’ve ever felt turbulence like it before. I’m not sure if it was the rattle already in my brain or my heart, not having gotten off the roller-coaster ride it jumped on the moment I saw Madi fly through the doors at the party, or if the plane truly was encountering every bumpy cloud in the sky, but by the time we reach Eagle County Regional Airport I’m ready to kiss the ground and I’m certain my skin looks green.

  I’m too far gone in a state of shock – on autopilot hailing a cab with only my dad on my mind – to think about the temperature drop from London to Colorado. I don’t care about the weather or if I’m wearing the right shoes. I just need to see my dad.

  It’s pitch black outside. Fortunately, there are plenty of taxis lined up in arrivals and it doesn’t take long before we’re winding down the paths towards the hospital. Surprisingly the weather is cool and there is no snow to be seen, not that I can see much – it’s gone 10 p.m. Madi informs me that she has texted my Mum to let her know we are on our way. I count to ten slowly, appreciating the taxi driver can only go so fast in keeping with the rules of the road and traffic lights and all.

  ‘He’s going to be OK,’ Madi offers, squeezing my hand. Her nose is bright red from being rubbed raw through sniffles and trying to keep it together, and her cheeks are flushed. Her eyeliner is a little smudged from tears and sleeping on the plane and her hair that fifteen hours ago was up in a sleek pin-up-style bun, now resembles a beehive. Somehow, she still rocks it. I’ve rubbed my eyes so many times I don’t believe there is a touch of concealer left on my face, but it’s not important. The dark trees whizz by in a blur. I can barely focus on the twilight beauty that surrounds me or the fact that coming back here was supposed to be a celebratory occasion. I will celebrate once I’ve seen my dad and when I know he is going to be OK.

  I can see streetlamps ahead and a large rectangle building with more giant buildings around it. It looks out of place in the picturesque landscape of gingerbread houses. When we pull up, I thank the driver while Madi springs to action collecting our things and paying the man. My hair whips around me when the driver spins the car away and the trees begin to pick up speed with the night-time breeze. I help Madi with the bags and quick-march inside in search of the reception desk. It doesn’t take long to find it as when I turn the corner I bump straight into my mother.

  I drop my bags and immediately hug her tight. She’s shaking slightly. Though she does have colour in her cheeks, her eyes are droopy with grey bags underneath. Both Madi and I managed a few short restless naps on the plane, but if I know my mum, she’s not slept a wink, instead choosing to stay awake with the moon and heal my dad.

  ‘Oh, Harper. You’re my star,’ my mum says, stepping back and running her hands through my matted hair. ‘Thank you, honey, thank you for coming. Madi, darling come here,’ she whispers looking past me and reaching out to Madi for a cuddle. My body feels drained, like I haven’t slept for a week. I can’t imagine what my mum feels like; she must be exhausted. We follow my mum as she nods at the nurses and doctors and guides us to where my dad is being looked after.

  I suddenly feel the cold creep into my bones when I catch sight of my dad lying in the hospital bed with wires sticking out every which way. In this moment I will myself not to cry. I want to be strong for my dad like he’s always been strong for me. I walk over to him and at the sight of me, his hazel-grey eyes light up, and a faint chuckle escapes his lips.

  I want to joke about him missing me so much he had to put on this fine display to get me here, but the words get lodged in my throat. I want to make light of the situation, tell him to pull himself together and come home, but he looks to be in a lot of pain. I need to talk to someone and find out what happened so I can help.

  ‘I love you, Dad. I’m here now; you’re going to be just fine,’ I say confidently and kiss his forehead. I see bandages on his shoulder furthest from me and padding peeking out from under his head. I bite my lip as they start to tremble. ‘I love you,’ I whisper again before stepping back and allowing Madi to say hello. I turn to hold Mum, unaccustomed to seeing her look so fragile. I gesture for her to sit in the chair before stepping out of the small room and going in search of tea. As I walk the neon lit corridors, I’m reminded of something Mum used to tell me when I was younger about courage. She used to say that courage isn’t about being fearless, it’s about facing obstacles, taking leaps and trying new things even when you are afraid. She used to tell me to become friends with my fear, to treat it as a sidekick; to look it in the face, smile and jump.

  Another thing she would say is that there will be times in life where you don’t get a choice of whether you wish to be courageous or not; sometimes life will present you with a moment or moments where courage is thrust in your lap because others need the courage you hold inside of you. The older I get, the more I understand her words of wisdom. I don’t feel so courageous right now, but I can see that my mother needs my courage.

  I find a vending machine and acquire two cups of peppermint tea to take back to Mum and Madi. I’m walking back to the room, the warm paper cups heating my hands and bringing some colour back to my cheeks. I hadn’t realized how frozen I was until they start to thaw my fingertips and it’s not even icy out.

  ‘Harper Hayes?’ I hear
my name and pause. Quickly I look around, my brows furrowed. I’m disorientated in a new hospital and I’m getting anxious that I have been gone too long from my dad’s side. I think I might be hearing things, so I take another step forward, flustered that my mind is playing tricks on me out of tiredness. ‘Harper, is that you?’ I recognize the voice but can’t place it in my current delirium. It’s coming from behind me. I look over my shoulder and see Dean standing tall with a clipboard, blue doctor’s attire and a dashing smile on his face. I blink wanting to be certain that he is not a mirage and I take a step closer to him. His smile is contagious. My lips curl up into a small side-grin at seeing his familiar, friendly face.

  ‘Hi,’ I croak. ‘It’s me,’ I manage before without warning I feel my face crease and within seconds water leaks from my eyes. I have no way to stop it flowing with both my hands being out of service due to the steaming hot cups of tea I’m holding.

  Dean closes the gap between us, lifts the teacups out of my hands, places them on an empty chair in the corridor, then gently steps into me putting an arm around my shoulders and an arm around my head. The tears and emotions I have been holding in since Madi informed me of my dad’s accident some sixteen hours ago come barrelling out. My shoulders are bouncing up and down as Dean strokes my hair.

  ‘Thank you,’ I whisper when my tears become less like a river. I pat my face with my palms and step back. Dean tucks my loose waves behind my ears and offers a warm smile that creates that dimple in his right cheek. I don’t feel the need to apologize for my emotional outburst to him and from the way he looks at me, I sense that he isn’t waiting for me to say sorry either.

  ‘Anytime, Harper. Now, how can I help?’ he asks, his grey eyes crinkling with a mixture of concern and confidence. I pick up the tea as he picks up his clipboard and I start walking in the direction of my dad’s room. ‘Wait, Jerry Hayes?’ With the inflection at the end of my surname I nod to answer his question as he registers why I am at the hospital. ‘He’s going to be OK, Harper. I promise you,’ he adds as we reach the door. I go inside first and pop the tea on Dad’s table. Madi is holding his hand still, chatting away to him. Dad looks more awake, his lips rosy and grinning at whatever Madi is telling him. They’ve always had a strong bond. My dad loves her as if she was his own daughter. He would most likely claim she is too, if anyone were to ask. My mum is dozing on the chair, which tugs at my heartstrings. She needs her rest. I’m quiet as I tiptoe over to my dad.

  ‘Hi,’ I whisper. Madi squeezes his hand and wanders over to the table to take a sip of tea.

  ‘I love you, kid,’ my dad says gruffly. I somehow manage to control my waterworks this time as I bend down and kiss him once more on his cheek. When I stand up Dad’s eyes land on Dean standing by the door. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure this time, Doc?’ I can feel my pulse slowly returning to normal with every word my dad utters in his usual laidback tone. I ignore Madi looking from me to Dean with curious eyes.

  ‘Checking in, Jerry. No more prodding and probing today, I can assure you. We just need you to rest,’ Dean says with a wave of his clipboard. With his words, relief floods me.

  ‘See, will you tell your mother to get some rest. I’m fine.’ My dad winks at Dean making me chuckle. He’ll forever downplay his pain if it means my mum doesn’t worry about him. I look over to her still snoozing in the chair. My dad can’t see her with being unable to move his head.

  ‘I will do,’ I reply softly.

  I get up and walk to the door to thank Dean for popping in. If he has time, I hope to possibly learn what happened to my dad. I don’t want my mum to have to relive it.

  ‘Is he really going to be OK?’ I ask, standing just outside the door so our voices don’t wake up my mum.

  ‘He really is,’ Dean answers, giving me his full attention. ‘Your mum didn’t see what happened but couldn’t wake him when she saw him lying in the yard. When the paramedics arrived, it appeared he had slipped on the ice while chopping wood yesterday morning. He was concussed when they found him but coming to; but he has a nasty wound and severe bruising on his left shoulder. The cut will need monitoring – it’s deep and we don’t want it to get infected. And of course, we’re keeping an eye on him to make sure there’s no damage or fluid around his brain due to knock against the ice, but so far so good.’

  I let out a shaky sigh, taking in this information but not wanting to picture my beast of a Dad lying in the cold bleeding and unconscious. Dean touches my shoulder. I snap out of my drifting thoughts knowing that even if I lived in Colorado at the time, I still might not have been there to stop the accident from occurring. I meet Dean’s gaze.

  ‘It says on your dad’s notes that he lives here? You live in London?’ he asks, his eyebrows quirking upwards. He looks puzzled but hopeful, of what I’m not quite sure.

  ‘He does yes, him and my mum have lived here seven years this year. And I do kind of live in London, but we had plans, Madi and I, to move out here. We were all set for October, but that process got sped up a little last night and here we are,’ I say softly, raising my hands at my sides and dropping them back down while blowing out air. Dean squeezes my shoulder. ‘I actually live here now. Anything I needed to sort out over the next few months, I think I’ll just do from here now so I can be with my dad. I couldn’t bear to leave him again.’ I thought it might sound strange the first time I said I live in Colorado, but it doesn’t. I’m in Colorado right now and it’s home; I don’t have any desire to leave.

  Dean’s smile broadens. ‘I’m sure that makes your parents very happy. I take it you jumped on a plane the minute you heard about your dad?’

  ‘I haven’t actually told them yet; they knew we were planning another trip and wanted to visit again for the holidays, but they don’t know anything yet.’ I shrug casually as a mischievous smile creeps on to my face. A giddiness takes over me. I want it to be a surprise; to take my parents to Madi’s and my new house and see the looks on their faces when I reveal it’s ours. I will have to make sure my dad rests and get him better so my little surprise can go ahead. ‘And yes, we did. It’s going to be nice living so close to them now.’

  ‘You’re full of surprises, Harper. You didn’t mention your parents or that you were planning a move,’ Dean says with a twinkle in his eye.

  I look down at the floor, contemplating why I hadn’t told Dean that I was planning on moving out here. I think it over for a minute before a smile tugs at my lips.

  ‘I wanted to make certain I was doing it for me, and I’ve been working on putting my faith in the universe a little more,’ I say confidently, unable able to hide my grin. There’s something about Dean that stays with me every time we speak. It nestles in the corner of my heart and doesn’t budge. I can’t explain it, but it doesn’t feel like it needs to be rushed; instead it simply gives me a feeling of contentment.

  Dean pushes his black-rimmed glasses up his nose and nods with a crooked smile. ‘Ah, the universe. It knows the way.’

  A moment passes as I let Dean’s words sink in and then take in his doctor’s uniform. ‘You couldn’t play a dairy farmer but a doctor – I think you’ve got that down no problem,’ I say with a chuckle. But then my nose wrinkles and I tilt my head to one side. ‘Can I confirm that you did say you are not an actor? So, I am safe to assume that my dad’s in good hands and you’re not prepping for a role on Casualty?’

  His head quirks at ‘Casualty’; I wave it off forgetting that it’s a very British TV show and I’m not talking to a Brit.

  ‘Born into a family of doctors and still not very good at acting.’ He winks, but then glances subtly at his clipboard. I need to let him get back to work.

  ‘I best let you go then. I can’t thank you enough for taking care of my dad,’ I say bringing my hands together in prayer position and truly hoping my words right now are enough to show him my sincere gratitude as I don’t have a box of chocolates or a tin of McVitie’s biscuits on me.

  ‘Don’t mention it.’ He pau
ses and I take a step back towards my dad’s room, wanting to head back in and check on everyone and make sure they’re doing well, even though I’ve only been outside the door for five minutes. I wave and nod, Dean does the same, and I duck back into the room, feeling content in the knowledge that my dad is on the right path to a full recovery and he has the best doctor looking after him.

  My mum is now awake sipping on what must be cold tea by now, but she’s not complaining. My dad is grinning and the complete definition of bearing it. I want to tell him that he doesn’t have to put on a brave face for me, but Madi is practically beaming too, so I don’t wish to spoil his fun.

  ‘What’s made you so happy?’ I ask, leaning against the edge of his bed and taking his hand carefully in mine. Mum pulls the chair up next to the bed, while Madi is sitting on the bed next to my dad.

  ‘You tell her,’ Madi whispers to my dad, nudging his right shoulder encouragingly. There’s no mistaking he loves her as he flinches but doesn’t say a word.

  ‘You only went and got shortlisted for “romance screenwriter of the year”, kid,’ he informs me slowly, his gravelly voice thick with pride. His eyes are glistening and there’s no holding back the tears on my end now. Before I know it, my face is wet and there are arms all around me as I’m in the middle of a Mum and Madi bear hug with Dad squeezing my hand. Despite Dad’s condition, getting to share this moment with the people who matter most to me in this world is a dream come true. It makes our decision to move to Colorado feel all the more right. My understanding of the universe moving you and shaking you up to get you somewhere, like Dean had said, resonates within my core.

  Chapter 22

  It’s been two months since Madi and I jumped on a plane in a mad dash to get to my dad’s bedside. It was another example of how in life things don’t always go to plan and you sometimes must rewrite your script as you go.

  There had been no time to inform the fostering agency that I wouldn’t be able to make my appointment. It had been scheduled for the day after we ended up flying. And there was no time to pile all of our belongings into storage or give Lara enough time to inform the office here of our arrival. The plan had gone up in smoke and we had to adjust here and there and learn to be OK with that. All things considered, our plot twist is shaping up nicely and I very much feel at home here in Breckenridge. Madi has gone on a short trip back to the UK with Em to get her house in order. She had planned on renting it out for a couple of months after our initial move so she’s clearing away personal belongings and bringing what she can here; basically, tying up all the loose ends that were lost on us when my dad was in hospital.