When the Stars Align

by Isabel Jolie

  “Dear friends, tonight marks twenty years our parents have been throwing this holiday party. Every year, the celebration grows. It’s a Hart-Daughtridge tradition. A tradition I hope Anna and I continue long into the future.”

  The crowd fills with smiles. Someone shouts out, “Hear, hear.” I stand beside Evan, eyes cast down. I want to get off this stage and away from the microphone. Our parents come and stand near us. My mom has tears in her eyes. My lips pinch together, and my throat grows thick.

  Evan falls to one knee, and I hear a few gasps from the crowd. Evan’s mom places her palms over her heart. I struggle to breathe. “Anna Elizabeth, we’ve loved each other for as long as I can remember. You are my first love, and I want you to be my last. Marry me.”

  I stare out on a sea of expectant faces. My chest aches. He knows I don’t want this. We talked about this. The lights overhead, strings of Edison bulbs glowing warm, blur as I push my way through the crowd and run.

  “Hey, daydreamer. Dinner’s here.” Olivia’s voice brings me back to the here and now. A cheeseburger on grilled potato bread sits before me. “You okay?”

  I run my hands over my face in an attempt to rid myself of the memory. The day of the unwanted public proposal. The shouting match with my parents. How could I be so selfish? What’s wrong with me? Evan will take care of me. Why don’t I want Evan? He’s a good southern gentleman. I’ll never find anyone to love me the way Evan loves me!

  I rest my forehead on my hand. Too many voices. Too many emotions. I need more sleep.

  Olivia’s gentle voice breaks through my inner turmoil. “If you love him, why aren’t you with him?”

  I slam my head back against the wooden booth so hard it hurts. “Ow.” I rub the back of my head and laugh at Olivia’s bewildered expression. “Shit, that hurt.”

  She sort of laughs with me but doesn’t speak. She waits for my answer.

  “He doesn’t want a relationship. It’s a moot point.” She squeezes my hand in a way that says she understands. Then we dig into our burgers and drink up.

  Chapter 29

  Jackson

  The football game plays on both the large TV in our den and the smaller TV in the kitchen. My parents knocked down the walls between the two rooms ages ago to create one large open space living area. The giant TV in the den can be seen from the kitchen, making the second TV complete overkill. But at least today it’s on a game instead of streaming news.

  I stand indecisively in the middle of the space, between my dad sprawled on one of the sofas and my mom and sister hard at work in the kitchen. The sofa summons me. No one would bat an eye if I joined Dad. But instead, I make my way to my mom, kiss her on the cheek, and ask what I can do to help.

  She runs her hand through my hair as if I’m a school age kid and kisses my cheek. “Do you mind chopping the onions for the dressing? They make me tear up.”

  With steady precision, I dice the onions. I move on to peel and dice the carrots. My Mom and sister flit around each other. Thanksgiving in our home. Would Anna like it here? She’d fit in. She’d be at home in the kitchen with my mom and sister. Then, when all the work’s completed, she’d gladly flop on the sofa to hang with my dad. That’s Anna. She can fit into any world—with women or men. She’s comfortable in her own skin.

  Damnit. She should be here. With me.

  As if on cue, my younger sister glances up from her task of creating the cranberry relish and asks, “What’s Anna up to today?”

  I pause. I had expected she’d ask, but I hadn’t expected it would hit like a punch to the gut when she did. “She’s in Prague.”

  “Wow! That’s awesome. Who’s she there with?” she asks, her focus on the chef’s knife she’s using to chop walnuts.

  “Her old roommate lives there. She’s coming back Sunday.” I rattle off answers to her questions. I don’t know much, though. Other than one brief text, I haven’t heard anything from Anna.

  After making an excuse about checking voicemail, I head into my room and shut the door. My childhood bedroom. My bug collection still sits in small glass jars on shelves. Star Wars Legos line up on proud display over my desk. Mom kept everything exactly as I’d left it. It’s a bit disturbing, as the room’s starting to take on a museum feel. She needs to convert it into a guest room or use the space in some way she’d enjoy.

  I sit in my desk chair and pick up an old Dungeons and Dragons book. Flipping through the pages, I remember the last day I held this book. I sat here, in this same chair, tears streaming down my face, the graphic images a blur. Betsy had told me she didn’t want to be my girlfriend anymore because I was too fat. I didn’t cry at school. It wasn’t until I’d closed my bedroom door and picked up this book that the tears had started to fall. Fifth grade. Joanna could tell something was wrong. She barged in, hugged me, then asked if I wanted to play Legos. As a kindergartener, she preferred dolls, but she knew Legos were my thing. That’s when I knew I had a pretty great kid sister. It was also the start of my running career and my addiction to healthy eating.

  So many memories in this room. I’d sat here, on this bed with the same comforter, right after graduation. Torn between reaching out to Anna and deleting her contact info from my phone. I rub my hand over my face. Instead of doing anything about Anna, I’d packed and moved to Atlanta. I closed the door.

  I pick up my cell. No new texts. No new calls. I throw it down on the bed. Stare at it. Then pick it up and press her name. My heartrate picks up and my chest expands when she answers.

  “Hey, you.”

  My throat thickens. “Hey. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”

  “Are you okay?” It’s the most important question I can ask.

  “Yeah. I am.”

  She sounds good. Really good. “What have you been up to?” Did you need to go so fucking far away?

  “I’ve been spending time with Olivia. Exploring Prague. They don’t celebrate Thanksgiving here, but Olivia took the day off, and we went out to eat at a nice restaurant. We shared two bottles of wine at dinner.” She sort of giggles, and I think I hear a door close.

  “What time is it there?”

  “Nine o’clock. We just got home.” She sighs loud enough it carries through the phone line. “It’s been a good day, but we’ve walked a ton and had a lot to drink. Time to call it a night.”

  “Are you in the room by yourself now?”

  “Yeah.” Static and her soft exhales are the only sounds through the line. I close my eyes.

  “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too.”

  “I wish you were here. You’d like my family.”

  “I’m sure I would.”

  “So, tell me more about Prague.”

  “HEY, HAVE YOU BEEN following Anna’s Instagram posts? I searched for her when you told me she’s in Prague. She’s an awesome photographer.” I glance over from my suitcase. Joanna stands in my doorway, a coffee mug in hand.

  I’m in the middle of packing my clothes and straightening my bedroom. Thanksgiving takes a lot out of Mom, and I don’t want her to have to clean up after me.

  “Yeah. She’s making Prague look amazing.” I don’t think I’ve ever checked Instagram with such frequency. Her posts capture Prague’s architecture, landscape, and people with a photographer’s eye. She doesn’t do selfies.

  “Tell me about it. Czechoslovakia moved up a dozen spots on my travel wish list. Have you been talking to her?”

  My dad joins Joanna at the doorway and places his arm around her shoulders.

  “Not much.” I have a lot to say to her, but I want to say it in person.

  I close my suitcase, ready to roll it out and get on the road. I had planned to stay until Sunday, but Bobby and I have been texting. I get the sense he’d like for me to get Chewie out of his apartment. She’s not getting regular exercise, and as her energy level rises, so do her destructive tendencies. A football, the corner of the sofa, a running shoe, and the garba
ge are among the casualty list.

  “You guys here to see me off?” I ask, a little self-conscious with them both watching me pack. My dad’s eyes shine. He’s not an emotional man, so it’s probably allergies.

  My dad lifts Joanna’s hair and twists it around like he used to do when she was little. She leans against him and smiles. He tugs her hair and asks, “Hey, do you mind if I talk to Jackson for a bit?”

  Joanna gives Dad a warm smile and hug before responding, “Sure thing.” She addresses me with a stern, “Don’t you dare leave without saying goodbye.”

  “You got it, sis.”

  My dad watches her go then takes a seat in my desk chair. I sit down on my bed, preparing for a father-son talk. Seeing him in my chair, it hits me this is a bit of a role reversal. When I was growing up, I’d sit in the chair. He’d either stop by the doorway and say something quick, or if something big had to be addressed, he’d sit on my bed. When I knocked over Mom’s lamp playing forbidden indoor soccer, for example, he sat on my bed for a small eternity.

  “I hear you’re dating a girl.”

  Is this what he’s here to talk to me about? Girls? I’m almost thirty. Come on, now, Dad. I smirk, amused. “Yeah. Well, kind of. I want to date her. The whole thing is still a little TBD.” I see now we are more than friends with benefits. I’m not about to tell Dad the woman I’ve fallen for wants sex with no relationship.

  My dad nods and fingers his college ring. It’s a nervous habit of his, but I suspect he started doing it to make other people nervous. At least, when I was a kid, he’d always twist the substantial ring when he was trying to come up with a cruel punishment.

  I straighten my back and stretch out my legs. Awkwardness fills the room. Dad and I don’t talk much. Our conversations often center around sports or business. There’s something about him broaching the girls subject with me now that amuses me. I could tell him it’s a little late for the birds and bees talk, crack a joke, but that’s not us.

  He swallows and shifts in his seat. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Your mom’s been after me to talk to you. She thinks you’ve been holding off on living life, focusing solely on your work ambitions. She’s worried you might be trying to be like me.” He lifts his shoulders, resigned. “Apparently that’s a bad thing.”

  “Is that what Mom said?” The vision of her berating him for my choices has me laughing out loud.

  Dad nods and shifts in his chair. “More or less.” He gives me a sheepish grin. “But she’s not wrong. If I could go back and redo things, I would. You kids and—well, your mom—you are my world. I’m not sure you guys know that. And you should. Every kid should know that. I was always working when you were growing up, and now, in the blink of an eye, you guys are grown and gone out of the house. We get to see you a handful of times a year. I thought I’d have more time. You being kids, it didn’t feel temporary.” He studies his right palm, traces one of the lines with his other thumb. His voice quakes with emotion. “I didn’t know how fleeting it would be. Your childhood. So, yeah, I’d redo your childhood. In a heartbeat. And I certainly hope you don’t repeat my mistakes.”

  When he tilts his head up, tears fill his eyes, and he sniffles. This is not the dad I had growing up. I want to gather him into a hug but stay on the bed instead. We’ve never been touchy-feely men. I’m not sure I can handle watching my dad cry. “Dad, I love you. You know that, right?” He nods, and his lips curl into each other, holding back emotion. “You were building a company. I understand. Joanna kind of mentioned some of this stuff to me. I get it. And, yeah, I’ve been following in your footsteps. In my own way. Putting off the whole marriage and family thing until further in my career. But I’m rethinking my plan.”

  The bedroom walls blur, and I realize I’m tearing up. Damn.

  “Dad, I know we don’t do a lot of stuff together, but it’s not too late to change that. You guys live in Virginia. It’s not that far away. Why don’t you come up one weekend, and we’ll catch a game? Or we can plan a ski weekend together?”

  Shock covers my Dad’s face, as if I proposed we take a space shuttle to the moon. He sniffles. “I’d love that.” He stands, signifying the conversation has ended. There may be a limit to how long he can handle an emotional discussion. “If you and this Anna girl work things out, maybe your mom and I can come for a weekend to meet her. I’m sure your mom would love some time getting to know her. So would I.”

  I chuckle. “Let’s take it day by day. When she’s ready, I’d like that too.” I’d like that an awful lot, actually. The question of the hour is how to sell Anna on it. A new plan. A new arrangement for us.

  Four years ago, we closed the door on us. I don’t want to close the door this time. I don’t want to let her go.

  Chapter 30

  Anna

  “Hey, you! Happy belated Thanksgiving.”

  “Hey, sis. How’s the wandering solo traveler?” Bobby’s voice brings a smile to my face. I couldn’t catch him on Thanksgiving. Today’s my last day in Prague. I return home tomorrow. The whole trip has blown by in the blink of an eye.

  “It’s good. Olivia’s taken a few days off, so I haven’t been solo the whole time. I love it here. How’re things there? Did you get any turkey?”

  “If you count the hospital cafeteria turkey, then, yes.”

  “Ugh. Chase didn’t bring you by a plate of food?”

  “No, Chase didn’t hand deliver a plate of food. I did go out with him for beer Friday night. And I saw Jackson this morning.”

  I tilt my head forward to hear him better, even though I’m holding a phone and shifting my head won’t improve acoustics. “What? Why?”

  “Because that dog of yours is not trained, Anna. She has destroyed my apartment.”

  “No! I’m so sorry. What did she do?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just thank your boyfriend because I was about ten seconds away from taking that chew monster to the pound.”

  I gasp. “You would do no such thing.”

  “You did name her well.” he snaps back, humor ringing through his tone.

  “Har. Har. Why Jackson? How did that happen?” I don’t address the boyfriend comment. I’m too confused.

  “We met at your apartment. He offered. Kept in touch this past week. You’ve got a good guy there. Don’t blow it.”

  I roll my eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend. There’s nothing to blow.”

  “’Kay, why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Block a good guy. Yeah, Evan did a number on you, but you’ve got to move on.”

  “I’ve moved on.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You know what? You’re talking out of your ass right now. Jackson doesn’t want to date me. I fell for him. I told him too. And you know what? He let me say goodbye and close the door. If he’s helping with Chu, then he’s just trying to prove we’re still friends. I can promise you, he’s not into me, not in that way. It might be Mom was right. Maybe Evan is the only guy who will ever be into me. Have you ever thought about that? Maybe I screwed up more than just our family when I said no to Evan.” Tears are streaming down my face. My words flow out in rapid-fire and stream of consciousness. Defenses up and crumbling in an incongruous battle.

  “Whoa. Whoa, little sis. Take a deep breath. Calm down. I’ve only got a few minutes before I need to do rounds, so I’m gonna respond to all your bullshit in bullet points. Then I’m texting you those points for you to reread. Got it?”

  I set the phone down and blow my nose. When I pick it back up, Bobby’s voice echoes through the line, “Anna? Got it?”

  “Yeah. Fire away.” I sniffle.

  “First, Jackson loves you. He may not have said it out loud yet, but no man cuts his vacation to take care of a girl’s disobedient mutt unless he loves her. Two, you made the right choice when you broke up with Evan. The guy’s an insecure asshat, and I’ve heard he’s going through a divorce right now. That could have been you. Listen closely. Mom an
d Dad would still be dead. Their deaths had nothing to do with you choosing not to marry him. Saying no to a marriage you don’t want will always be a valid choice. The smartest choice. If you had married Evan for Mom and Dad, it would’ve been an enormous mistake.”

  I sob. “I know. But the thing is, saying no destroyed my relationship with Mom and Dad. They never forgave me. They never understood.” I jam a tissue against my nose to blot the steady stream of snot and tears.

  “Anna, there was nothing to forgive. Your life. Your choices.” He pauses then continues. “Have you ever thought about what would’ve happened if you had married Evan? Because here’s the scenario that plays through my mind. You’d marry him. Drop out of college. Have a kid. At some point, you’d get a divorce. You still would’ve had issues with Mom and Dad. Either from their over-involvement in your marriage or blaming you for your failed marriage.”

  Silence. His words bang around in my head. Deep down, I know he’s right. Our parents were best friends. From the time I could crawl, they’d been pushing Evan and me together. And I always wanted to please my parents. Make them happy. But, in the end, I chose me. My life. My choice.

  “Anna, you still there?”

  “Yeah. Thanks. Ah, when did you hear Evan’s getting divorced?”

  “A while ago. He got caught cheating.” Rumors had flown in high school and college that he was hooking up with random girls. I never gave them credence. But it could explain why he was so controlling and possessive of me. Never wanted me to go out with friends. He couldn’t trust me if he couldn’t control himself.

  “And, last point, little sis. You are a beautiful person. One day, a good guy is going to see all you are and love you with everything he has. If it’s not Jackson, then it’ll be another guy.”

  FOR MY LAST NIGHT IN Prague, Olivia made reservations for us at Restaurant Mlynic on the Vltava river. The lights from ships glitter along the waterway. The streetlamps cast a golden glow and amplify the storybook aesthetic. Inside the restaurant, the contemporary lighting and design contrast with the view outside. The blending of historical with contemporary yields an alluring atmosphere.