As Bright as the Stars

by Cindy Caldwell

  “I don’t know. I think it’s around seven o’clock. Maybe.”

  “What the heck? I don’t think I’ve been up this early since...well, a long time.”

  The coffee started dripping into the pot, making its coffee noises. “See, it’s coming. Can you hear it? You missed a great sunrise.”

  “I can hear it, but I can’t smell it. And what normal person watches sunrises, anyway? That’s still night time in my book.”

  “You’ll smell it in a minute. Get up,” Megan said, tugging at the covers.

  “What is it?” Felicia said, as she sat up, her eyes still closed. “Ah, I think I can smell it. I think I can open my eyes, now,” she said, opening one first. As she looked at Megan, both eyes flew open wide, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle her laughter.

  “What the heck are you wearing?” she said, barely able to suppress her giggles.

  “What? Oh, whatever. It’s all I had handy.”

  Felicia put her hands over her eyes. “Oh, my gosh. I think I just saw the sunrise. In neon. Grab some coffee for me. I think I’ve been blinded.”

  “Oh, come on,” Megan said, laughing. In the kitchen, she poured the magic elixir for her friend, hoping it would get her out of bed so she could tell her the news.

  She waited for her to get one sip down, knowing it would go easier if she did. “Okay, that’s all you get. Guess what?”

  “You went color blind overnight?”

  “Very funny. No, I didn’t. I couldn’t sleep, got up in the dark and just put this on. Get over it.”

  “I’m not sure I can. But, go on. What happened?”

  “I was sitting watching the sunrise and that guy came over.”

  “That guy? The one from yesterday? The Sean Connery guy?” She actually looked a little interested now, and she got out of bed and pulled on a sweatshirt over her pajamas.

  “You don’t look any better than I do, my friend. Nice sweatshirt and pajamas.”

  “Hey, at least they’re in the same section on the color wheel,” she said, straightening her hair and pulling on her slippers. “So spill. What happened?

  Megan poured herself a cup of coffee, grabbing the French vanilla creamer from the refrigerator and poured a splash in the mug.

  “I couldn’t sleep at all, even after my goddess bath. I woke up before the sun came up. I was watching the sunrise and he just came over.”

  “And he stayed after he saw you in that get-up?” She looked at her friend over the rim of her mug as she drank her coffee quickly.

  “Yes, he did. He even said I was beautiful. At least, I think he did,” she said, feeling her face heat.

  “Wow, you’re kidding me? That’s awesome.”

  “Is it? Felicia, I haven’t been interested in a man in ages. Too busy working. I don’t even know what to say, and I keep saying pretty stupid things.”

  “Well, yes, you do, but he seems to like you anyway.”

  “That’s not very nice,” Megan said, stepping on her friend’s foot as she walked over to the window.

  “Ouch. Stop it. I’m just kidding.”

  “I know. It’s just so foreign to me. Said he was looking forward to seeing us tonight at Cassie’s. I’d forgotten that she’d invited him.” Megan squirmed a bit in her chair.

  “Looking forward to seeing you, you mean. You’re the one he came to visit this morning.” she said. She looked into her empty mug and lurched toward the coffee pot, pouring herself another cup. “Ahh. Getting better.”

  Megan laughed at her friend. Her morning coffee addiction was legendary, and Megan was grateful that she was even capable of this level of conversation with her best friend before cup number three.

  “I don’t think so. I just think I happened to be up this morning, so stopped in.”

  “Whatever. You think that if you want to, but I saw how he looked at you last night. When you were showing him around the house, he stood in your bedroom for a while and said, ‘So this is where you sleep?’ Remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember. What of it?”

  “That’s not a normal thing people say. He was flirting.”

  “He was not.” Her stomach tightened at the thought. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he might be flirting.

  “Oh, yes, he was. I meant to tell you today, anyway, but it seems he beat me to you.”

  She stared out the window, looking out to the ocean. “Well, he doesn’t know much about me yet, so it will be a short-lived flirtation, if he’s even interested.” She lowered her eyes and leaned her forehead against the glass. “Hey, a lot of guys would want a hot woman who is losing a business, soon to be destitute, and lives in a different country.”

  “Oh, come on. Nobody thinks that about you but you. You’re going to land on your feet. You always do.”

  “Thanks, Flee. I need to think that. Not sure what I’m going to do.”

  “Well, for today, just go with it. Forget about all that, and be happy.”

  Megan’s mouth dropped open, and she turned toward her friend. “That’s exactly what he said.”

  “Well, then it’s a message. One not to be ignored.”

  Megan stood and looked out over the water. “I think maybe I’ll write in my journal a little bit today. I haven’t done that in a long time. Oh, wait, you wanted to go into town.”

  Felicia stood and stretched, the caffeine apparently now in her veins.

  “I don’t mind. I’ll take Kyle. He wants to go in and talk to the doctor anyway, and I want to get a new sink.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind. I don’t really want to go to town anyway. Don’t forget to be back for dinner at Cassie’s, though.”

  “Oh, right,” Felicia said as she poured another cup of coffee. “We’ll be back in plenty of time. Are you cooking? Cassie doesn’t know how, which I’m sure you remember.”

  Megan laughed. “She didn’t ask me to, so maybe we’re going to the restaurant or something. I’m not going to worry about it.”

  Felicia’s eyebrows rose. “Well, that’s a first. You not worrying about something like that. Well done. Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”

  Just as Megan headed off the porch, James walked up the dune toward Felicia’s door.

  “Mornin’, Felicia,” James said as he nodded in her direction. “And hello again, Megan.”

  Felicia smiled in Megan’s direction and nodded.

  “Can I get you some coffee?” she asked.

  James shook his head. “No, thanks. I’ve already had my fill of the best tea I’ve tasted in months.”

  Taking a quick glance at Felicia, Megan saw she was trying not to laugh.

  “Megan, I was wondering if you’d like to stop by a little later this morning. We were talking earlier about art, and creativity and there are some things I’d like to show you.”

  “Uh, I guess so,” Megan said slowly.

  He smiled and pointed to her clothes. “I thought that with your sense of color and style, you might be interested in seeing some of my art.”

  Megan closed her eyes and cringed as Felicia literally spit out some of her coffee and coughed.

  “Sure, sure, that would be great,” she said quickly, hoping James hadn’t noticed. He was already walking back to his house and she was relieved that he hadn’t, in fact, seemed to notice.

  As he crossed the road and was out of earshot, Felicia said, “Your sense of style and color? Okay. I am right and you are wrong. He’s flirting.”

  Megan sighed and wondered how she felt about that, if it was even true. She decided she didn’t care one way or the other—he was interesting and handsome and it was something to do. She was supposed to just relax, and it sounded like a good way to do it.

  “I’m not going to talk about this anymore. Have fun in town,” she said, putting an end to the conversation. At least for now.

  10

  Megan spent some time writing in her journal as she sat on the deck. The waves crashing against the shore spurred her
along, and before she knew it she’d written pages and pages of memories she had from being at the beach. She’d just written about as many times she could think of that she’d been happy, and although not many of them were particularly recent, there were quite a few. Maybe she just needed to remember what that felt like, and change things up so she could feel that way again.

  She glanced at her watch and thought it was probably time to go over to James’s house. She’d changed her clothes earlier for everyone’s benefit, and had pulled on a comfortable skirt and blue top. She slid into her flip flops and before she headed out the door, she reached into the fridge for a container of the white sauce she had left over from the evening before. James had said he liked it, so it was all she could think of to bring with her.

  She walked down the dirt road toward his house and started up the steps. They were tiled with the terra cotta colored saltillos that everyone loved and the risers had colorful tile all along them, in beautiful shades of green, yellow, orange, blue in lots of different patterns. A hammock hung from two posts on the porch and she rapped lightly on the French door, shifting from foot to foot. She had absolutely no reason to be nervous—she was an adult with grown children, for goodness sake—but she was nervous nonetheless.

  James opened the door wide and gestured for her to come in. She smiled as she did and looked around the large room, a sweeping bank of French doors on the water side providing a fantastic view.

  “This is beautiful,” she said. “What a great job you’ve done.”

  “Thank you,” he said as he took the container she held out to him. “For both things. The compliment and the white sauce. I meant it when I said I’d never had better.”

  “You’re welcome.” She slowly walked toward the kitchen, admiring the huge kiva fireplace in the center of the room. “Wow, what a great kiva,” she said as she ran her hand along the curved edges and peered into the main part of it. It looked like a beehive in the center of the room.

  “Thanks, I love it. In the winter, it heats the entire downstairs.”

  “I bet that’s lovely,” she said. She loved her wood stove for the same reason, but his fireplace was huge, and a centerpiece of the room.

  “Let me give you a tour,” he said, and he took her hand, leading her from room to room. “The bedroom’s not quite finished but you have to see it anyway.”

  In each room, there were beautiful paintings—some of the ocean, some of boulders, some of mountains. They were beautiful, very colorful and quite large. He also had hung other kinds of pieces of art that looked like they might be from exotic places—not that she’d been to many—but she was pretty positive that some of the ceramic plates, metal art and African masks hadn’t been from the states.

  “You have some exquisite pieces,” she said. “You must have traveled quite a bit.”

  “I did. I’ve worked for various magazines over the years and was fortunate enough to see many countries, many continents.”

  It didn’t surprise her at all that he was well-traveled. Somehow, in the back of her mind, maybe that went along with being happy. And being adventurous, and brave enough to try new things. None of which described her.

  She gasped as he led her up the stairs and she entered into a large, square room, French doors on three sides. There were too balconies and he pulled her out onto the one that faced the water.

  “Wow,” she said slowly. “You can see forever.”

  He laughed. “And I feel the same way,” he said, pointing to the chair and telescope at the end of the balcony. “The stars and the moonrise—I could look at them forever.”

  “I can see why you’d never want to leave.” Megan could tell that he had the same affection for Playa Luna that she had—only he was fortunate to be there much more frequently than she was.

  She stopped in the stairwell on the way back downstairs, pausing to look more closely at one of the many paintings. This one was of what looked like tide pools, but was just in black and white. Charcoal, maybe? All of the other scenes were in vivid color.

  “This is beautiful. All of the shades of gray—I love it.”

  “Ah, shades of gray,” he said. “That’s one of my favorites, too. I sketched that in San Diego once when I was visiting a friend.”

  She turned and stared at him, her mouth open.

  “You—you did this?”

  He sat down on the step and looked out over the downstairs. “Yes. I did all of these.”

  “Wow, they’re fantastic,” she said again as she plopped down on the step below his. “I can’t even imagine.”

  He stood and grabbed her elbow, pulling her up beside him and guiding her downstairs. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

  He pulled her to the far end of the house and opened a door, guiding her down steps into what looked like a work room. Easels stood to the side, and benches with paints and paintbrushes lined the walls.

  “It’s a hobby of mine. I thought after our earlier conversation maybe you’d like to try it, too. You can even paint a blue tulip if you like.”

  She turned quickly toward him, looking up into his blue, twinkling eyes.

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Why not? No reason why you can’t, no matter what your teacher said long ago.”

  He gestured to a stool in front of an easel that held a blank white canvas. “You can just do whatever you want, or I’m happy to teach you a thing or two.”

  She pulled her hair back and sat on the stool, a laugh threatening to escape in between the rapid beats of her heart. She reached with a sweaty palm toward one of the brushes and took a deep breath.

  “I think I’d like to paint that blue tulip after all,” she said and he nodded with encouragement.

  “A blue tulip it shall be,” he said as he sat beside her.

  She couldn’t remember laughing so much in years and years as he nudged and prodded her into courage to actually put paint on the canvas. While they painted, she asked him question after question about his life, his travels. The stories were fascinating—he’d even sailed from California to Tahiti as crew on a boat.

  “That was long, long ago. I started traveling at a very young age,” he said.

  She paused for a moment and looked at him.

  “Were you trying to find something, or get away from something?” she asked.

  He stroked his beard. “I’m not sure. But my hair turned white when I was thirty—so maybe a bit of both.”

  She couldn’t help herself with the next question.

  “Never married? No family?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Some relationships here and there, but I never found quite the right one,” he said as he reached for more paint.

  She was having a marvelous time painting and listening. He never once made her feel like she couldn’t do it, and after a couple of hours—but what seemed like minutes to her—he stood and took a step back.

  “What fine work you’ve done, Megan. Museum quality, certainly.”

  She poked her elbow into his ribs and laughed.

  “Ouch. I wasn’t kidding. I’d be proud to hang it anywhere,” he said.

  “I’m not sure I’m brave enough to hang it anywhere.” Megan stood back and looked at it, too. She supposed it wasn’t all that bad, although she still thought she’d get an F in art class. But it was a pretty color, and the blue tulips were peaceful to look at. She wouldn’t mind hanging it in her bedroom, maybe, where nobody would see it but her.

  “Oh, it’s getting late and I need to be at Cassie’s a little early. I told her I would be, so I have to go,” she said.

  James bowed slightly and reached for her painting. “I’ll carry it home for you. Make sure you don’t touch it until it’s dry. And thank you for spending the day with me. It was lovely.”

  “It was,” Megan said. “I can’t thank you enough for encouraging me to do this. It felt—it felt really good.”

  “Ah, just the beginning. You have so many things you could explore. This is but one
.”

  She took in a deep breath as he escorted her to her house.

  “Hm. Well, I won’t be here long enough to do much more of this, I’m afraid. So thank you for showing me.”

  “Ah, what a pity,” James said with a frown. “Well, I think I’ll see if Kyle would like to throw a line in the water before we head over to Cassie’s.”

  “I’m sure he’d love to. And thanks again for the painting lesson.”

  “My pleasure,” James said as he set the painting inside the door of Megan’s house. “See you tonight.”

  Megan laughed—fishermen were all alike. Compulsive, and not much time for anything else. Well, to be fair, she had things that pre-occupied her, too. Unfortunately, none of the things that were on her mind were as fun as spending an afternoon fishing.

  11

  Megan was right—Cassie’d had the dinner catered from the resort restaurant. When Megan arrived, plates of tamales, enchiladas, tacos, chips and salsa were set out on tables with colorful tablecloths billowing in the breeze, just like the groundbreaking ceremony. She wasn’t at all surprised, and was actually happy that her daughter was so resourceful for someone who didn’t like to cook. Besides, it meant she had more time to just talk to people and enjoy the beautiful evening.

  Cassie and Felicia had driven up to the resort together, and Kyle and James had said they’d follow. When they’d left, the men were on the beach, barefoot, their fishing poles floating on the waves. They clearly weren’t ready to leave yet, and Megan didn’t mind just some girl time with her daughter. She instinctively knew that there was more that Cassie wanted to talk about, and she was looking forward to hearing what it was.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Mom,” Cassie said after she’d given Megan and Felicia a tour of the house. There wasn’t much to do to get ready or dinner, and Megan wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself if she wasn’t cooking. She and Felicia followed Cassie out onto the patio where the caterers were setting up, walking out toward the edge of the bluff. The sky was starting to turn, and as they sat and looked out over the water, Cassie caught them both up on the sanctuary. She pointed to where it was, and Megan was thrilled with the progress. The pride and sense of accomplishment her daughter radiated warmed her heart.