“Where is he taking us?” Margot gripes. “Go figure. We’ll get out here in the middle of nowhere and get ourselves killed.” She sits up in her seat. “How do you know this person again?”
“He’s a friend.”
“You don’t have any friends.”
I make a face. “Anyway, don’t worry about it. At least no one will find you out here. Isn’t that the point?”
“Might be, but I don’t want to die in the process.”
Little Margot says, “There aren’t, like, any houses out here. Are we in the country?”
“I see a light over there,” Sophia says. “That’s probably a house.”
“We can only hope,” Little Margot replies.
“Okay, everyone. Let’s try to be more positive. Selwyn is trying to help us.”
“But what if Mom’s right and he’s a serial killer?” says Little Margot. “Does anyone, like, know we’re here? Should we leave a trail?”
“If we don’t, we’ll never be found,” Sophia says ominously. And again: “Never be found.”
“See what you started?” I say to Margot.
“He looks familiar,” she says. “Do I know him?”
“He was at your engagement party.”
“My engagement party . . .” It’s not so dark that I don’t see the frown forming on her face. “That short guy!”
“He has a name, you know. Besides, he’s not that short!”
“He’s shorter than you.”
“Not by much. And who cares? He’s a good man.”
“Are you dating him?”
“No. I told you, we’re friends. And he’s nice enough to let us stay in his home, so try not to be rude.”
She crosses her arms and looks away. “All I know is, you two ruined my engagement party.”
“Unless you forget, I left your party because I was upset. Selwyn was there to help.”
“Yeah, he helped all right.”
“Just be grateful for once, okay? Just once in your life? Could you do that?”
Selwyn’s right-side blinker flashes, and we follow him onto a gravel road that eventually leads to a remodeled Victorian. The house has tall windows and a wraparound porch with a porch swing and wrought-iron table and chairs, perfect for drinking lemonade on a hot summer’s day.
“Now, would a mass murderer live in a house like this?” I ask brightly.
“That’s how he gets away with it,” Little Margot says shortly.
“No one suspects him,” says Sophia.
We park, and I pop the trunk. As soon as Selwyn climbs out of his car, two basset hounds, ears flopping, come bounding around the house. They’re followed by a German shepherd, hunched over and slower in gait. Selwyn takes his time greeting each dog before joining us. The girls, who have always loved animals, immediately forget about serial killers and run up to the dogs even as Margot tells them to stay away. The two hounds look exactly the same with their low bellies and sad, droopy eyes. The German shepherd, although big, is gray around his nose and mouth and periodically lets out a loud wheeze that makes him sound like an old man in need of an oxygen tank.
Margot presses her back against the car and turns down her mouth as though smelling something awful. “Are they safe?”
“Are you kidding?” I say, eyeing the German shepherd, who is currently hacking up large amounts of phlegm.
“Oh yeah,” Selwyn says, pointing to the German shepherd. “Dizzy there is almost fourteen and too old to do much outside of sleep. Louis and Ella would rather play than just about anything. They have their dog kennels and can sleep outside if that would make you feel more comfortable.”
“That’s a good idea. Thank you.”
Margot notes the truck parked nearby. “You have company?”
“That’s mine. Classic 1960 Chevrolet. Had her restored a few years back.”
“Lucky you.”
I roll my eyes and continue unloading the car. When we have everything, we follow Selwyn into the house. The kitchen and living room are all one large open space, both rooms decorated early-American style with antique tables and rockers. I catch Margot staring at the furniture derisively. When our eyes meet I mouth, Be nice.
We take our things upstairs, and Selwyn continues the tour. There are three bedrooms, two baths, and an office. I also glimpse an outside balcony spanning the length of each bedroom. We end up in the room that Margot will share with Little Margot. It’s been decided that the girls shouldn’t sleep alone. I’ll sleep with Sophia in the room next door.
The girls ask if they can go downstairs and play with the dogs. Selwyn tells them where he keeps the dog biscuits and says they can give them two biscuits each. It’s nice to see the excitement on their faces.
Margot picks up a pillow and studies the embroidery before returning it to the bed. “Piper says you’re an attorney. You can live out here on that kind of money?”
“Margot!” I’m tempted to explain how living off various men has done nothing to help her understand what it means to earn a living, but Selwyn takes her question in stride.
“It’s okay. It was actually relatively inexpensive to buy this place. Not many people want to live out in the middle of nowhere, but it suits me fine.”
“A lot of space for one person. You’re not married?”
“Margot.”
“I was married, but we divorced three years ago.”
“What happened?”
“Geez, Margot. You’ll have to excuse my sister. She has a social disorder called ‘too nosy for her own good.’”
“I’m just curious. He doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to.”
“It’s fine,” Selwyn says. “Guess you could say Charlene and I had issues that couldn’t be resolved. She’s in DC now. The house is too big for one person, but I can’t get myself to move. I’m a country boy at heart, and this is as good as it gets without having to move out of state.”
“I don’t blame you,” I say. “It’s a beautiful place.”
“Thanks.” He starts toward the door. “You all must be hungry. I’ll get dinner started.”
“You’re going to cook?” Margot asks, as though he’s just told us he’s about to perform a backflip.
“Yeah. I’m no four-star chef, by any means, but I’m sure I can put together something fairly edible.”
“We don’t want you to go to any trouble, Selwyn,” I say. “We could just as easily order pizza.”
“No delivery out here.” He laughs. “Besides, I don’t mind at all. You two make yourselves at home.”
When I hear his footsteps on the stairs, I turn to Margot. “What’s with all the personal questions? You’d think Mom never taught you manners.”
“Oh calm down. He seemed okay with it.”
She sits on the edge of the bed and takes out her phone. The bruise near her eye is already turning a deep purple and taking on the shape of a lima bean.
“He’s left five messages,” she says, already pressing the phone to her ear and listening intently. “He says he misses me.”
“He’s full of shit. Come downstairs.”
She’s too busy listening to her messages and doesn’t respond. “Margot. He slept with your best friend. Why are you bothering with him?”
“I know I know. I just want to hear these messages. I’ll be down in a sec.”
I pause at the door, but then I think of what I’m learning in AA. I can only take care of myself. And with that in mind, I tell her I’m going downstairs to help with dinner.
• • •
Selwyn and I clean the kitchen while the girls play Scrabble. Margot ate with us but has since returned to her room to call the producers of her show and talk to Curtis. After I help Selwyn load the dishwasher, he claps his hands together. “There’s something I want to show you. Wi
ll only take a second.”
“What is it?”
“Follow me.”
I follow him upstairs to his bedroom. “You have something to show me—in your bedroom?”
He raises his hands in defense. “It’s not like that. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a perfect gentleman.”
He leads me into the bedroom where there are two oil paintings on the wall and an antique bureau and dresser. On his bureau I notice a picture of a woman I assume is his mother and a second picture taken decades ago of a young man in a football uniform, a younger, leaner version of Selwyn.
“That’s Sylvester.”
“You two do look alike.”
“Yeah, like I said, everyone thought we were twins.” He picks up the photo. “I don’t know of any single person who could make me laugh so much.”
I try to remember the last time I laughed with Margot. I think and think. “You were lucky you two got along so well. You have a lot of good memories you can look back on.”
“Good memories are one thing I do have.” He returns the photo. “This way.”
He leads me to the balcony. I feel my breath catch as soon as I step outside and stare up into the night sky. I had assumed there would be low light pollution out here, and it looks like I was right. I instantly make out double the number of constellations I’d see in the city. I can even see Delta Cepheus and Antares, and just to the south, Scorpius’s butterfly cluster.
“Amazing.” I keep my gaze on the magnificence of it all. “A sky like this makes living out here completely worth it.”
“Won’t argue with you there. But this is what I want to show you.”
I turn and see him at the opposite end of the long balcony, his hand extended toward—“A Meade 280! I forgot you owned one!” I walk over and run my hand over the tubing. “Selwyn,” I say, inhaling deeply, “it’s gorgeous.”
“I’m telling you, Kil, I’ve been hooked since I bought her. I’ve been to the Danner Observatory a few times now, too. Last winter I went to the Gheller.”
The Gheller Observatory in New Mexico is supposed to have amazing views. “I’ve always wanted to go to the Gheller.”
“It’s certainly worth the trip. Well,” he says, pointing the Meade farther upward, “what are you waiting for? Why don’t you take a look-see? Go ahead.”
I peer through the viewfinder until I find Mercury; the power of the Meade 280 is that strong. I stare briefly at the planet, but then, in a burst of sheer, unadulterated happiness, I stop stargazing altogether and give Selwyn a hug.
“Whoa! Hey, what’s this for?”
• • •
“Everything,” I say as I continue to hug him. “Everything.”
Selwyn and I have decided to stay up late and find Neptune, named after the Greek god of the sea due to its perfectly blue coloring. It’s a windy planet with thirteen moons, and since it’s in conjunction with Jupiter this week, we have the opportunity to use Jupiter as our necessary starting point to chart our way to its territory. We have to wait until Jupiter comes into view at one a.m., but we don’t mind; Neptune is the farthest planet from Earth, and worth the wait. I also sense we’re both happy for the excuse to stay up and talk. Selwyn has made hot chocolate, and we sit at the table out on the balcony. I tell him about my childhood and Mom’s exploits, about Mr. Hoffman, Spence, and AA. He in turn describes his life in Alabama, and the devastating loss of his mother to cancer three years ago, coupled with his divorce the very same year. “Worst year of my life. My mother passes, and then I have to find out my wife is having an affair. We were growing apart, but why not ask for a separation? Why cheat?”
He explains that Charlene was his college sweetheart, but over time she became more of a “city mouse” while he wanted to slow down and have a family. They bought the house together with the intention of doing just that, but she wanted more time for her career. “That’s probably not the entire truth,” he says. “I just don’t think she wanted me.”
“Don’t say that. She married you.”
“Yeah, she loved me, but I think she married me because that was what she thought she should do at the time. We were together for three years in college, and I think we both thought the next step was marriage. But did she love me for me? Nah.”
I follow his gaze up to the blanket of stars, but I soon find myself looking over at him. I feel much like when I saw him in San Francisco, startled by how handsome he is. He’s lean and muscular with nice eyes and a kissable mouth. With all the work I have to do on myself, I’m not ready for a relationship, but I can’t deny the feelings I have for him. Why else would I have thought of hiding out in Livermore?
He feels me staring. “What?” He finds his napkin and begins wiping at his mouth. “Do I have a hot-chocolate mustache?”
“No. You’re fine.”
He pulls back, then, and stares suspiciously. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
He grins slowly. “Were you checking me out?”
I feel myself blush deeply. “No! Absolutely not.”
“Yeah, you were.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“I think you were. It’s okay if you’re starting to like me, Kil. Just don’t objectify me. I’m a human being, not just a piece of meat.”
I know I’m busted and smile.
“I will add, however, that if you were checking me out, it means you’re a smart woman, and I like smart women. Momma always said better to have one smart woman than a roomful of beautiful ones.”
“Oh brother.” Still smiling, I go back to staring at the sky.
“I can’t believe what you told me about Curtis. It’s a shame that one of our premier football players has to behave like . . . like an ass. But, Kil, how crazy is it that Curtis Randolph’s fiancée is inside my house right now! Right now! How crazy is that?”
“Selwyn,” I warn.
“Curtis Randolph’s fiancée is inside my house! And she’s your sister!”
“Selwyn.”
He leans back in his seat and brings his hot chocolate to his lips. “It’s pretty remarkable.”
I smile at him as he takes a swallow.
“Will you stop obsessing, please?” he teases. “I feel like you’re unclothing me with your bare eyes.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re so conceited.”
“But you know you’re fallin’ for me. Can’t help but fall under my spell.”
“Shut up.”
“You know you like me.”
“It would help if you weren’t so cocky. Then I might tell you whether I do or not.”
“I’m listening.” He sits straight up and pretends to zip his lips together.
“I like you, okay? There. I said it. Maybe at some point we can go out for coffee, or dinner. If you want,” I add, already feeling somewhat discomfited by my admission.
“Dinner would be great, Kil.”
“When I’m ready for something like that,” I say. “I’m just kind of getting my act together right now.”
“Of course.” He leans back and shakes his head at the stars. “It’s a beautiful, beautiful night,” he says with a sigh. After a moment, he reaches over and takes my hand and kisses it. I in turn take his hand and do the same. We continue holding hands as we keep our heads tilted back and our gaze toward the swath of sky where Neptune shines. I understand why we amateur stargazers get caught up in images of planets like Saturn, with its razzle-dazzle ring, and Earth, marked by its land formations, but there is something about Neptune, warranting its name as it does as it shines at the edge of our galaxy, some two billion–plus miles away, cloaked in perfect cerulean blue.
nineteen
Only five hours after saying good night, Selwyn and I are now making breakfast together. The girls, still in their pj’s, are in the living room, continuing the game of Scrabble they star
ted last night. Margot is asleep upstairs. A mix of Bill Evans, Art Tatum, and Chet Baker plays on the stereo.
Selwyn’s property lies between two vineyards and is surrounded by oak trees. Every time I get a glimpse out a window, I’m taken aback by all the wide-open space. I’m putting water in the teakettle when Selwyn says, “Sounds like someone’s here.” He’s in charge of making his famous biscuits, and flour covers his apron.
I didn’t hear a thing. “Really?”
He tosses the towel he’s holding over his shoulder and cocks his head. “Who’d show up this early?”
I follow him into the living room, and we look out the window as a white Mercedes makes its way up the long gravel driveway.
“That looks like my mother’s car.”
Sophia says from behind, “Granny’s here already?”
“What do you mean here already?”
“Mom told us Granny was coming,” says Margot.
I look out the window again. Sure enough. Mom.
“You knew she was coming?” I ask.
Little Margot glances up from the game board. “Yeah, Mom told us last night.”
I look at Selwyn. He knows all the drama going on with my family, so I can only hope he’ll forgive me for leaving him to greet Mom alone. I’m already boiling mad and have no time for manners. I haven’t spoken to her since my disastrous visit when I stopped by the house two months ago. It’s not as though I’m afraid of her or afraid she’ll push me toward the bottle again, but I don’t want her to see me right now either. Don’t we have enough going on? I say to Selwyn in a pleading tone, “Would you please excuse me for a second? I need to find out what the hell is going on. I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.”
I march directly upstairs and find my sister fast asleep. I give her a hard shake.
Shake Down the Stars Page 26
