Page 39 of With Stars in Her Eyes

Thea

Luckily, the park rangers checked out another group first. Getting dressed was a decidedly less sexy process than getting undressed, but by the time the park police pulled up to my Subaru, all my clothes were back in place and Courtney and I were sharing the last thermos of coffee in front of the telescope.

Boots hit the ground. “Good evening, ma’ams.”

“Hi.” Courtney shifted uncomfortably in her camp chair.

But I knew when to play up the Southern charm and use my too-nice face to my advantage. “Beautiful night out here for some stargazing. Everything all right, sir?”

“Oh… hello there. And yes, it sure is, ma’am. We’re just checking around to make sure everyone knows the rules about camping.”

“Yes, sir.” I nodded. “We won’t be out here too much longer. Just trying to get a few more pictures.”

“Sounds good, ma’am.” He stood for a moment and peered up at the sky. “All them stars do look mighty close tonight.”

“They sure do.” When the officer turned away, I winked at Courtney.

“We’re also letting guests know that we had a call in not too long ago about some strange noises that could be coyotes in the area. They might be sick or rabid. The description of the calls was very unusual. Make sure to use your lamps and stay close to the car. Alrighty now?”

A muscle twitched in Courtney’s jaw. “We’ll be careful. Thank you for the warning.”

The park ranger hopped back into his car and sped off, presumably to visit another set of night visitors and warn them about the potential “coyotes.”

As soon as he was far enough down the road, Courtney burst out laughing. “I feel like I need to start calling you my coyote now.” Courtney scooted her chair as close to mine as she could and kissed my knuckles with a raised eyebrow.

I gave her a small shove. “There was no way that was me. I kept quiet.”

Courtney snorted. “Is that how you remember it?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I hate to argue, but—”

I placed a finger over Courtney’s lips. “Then don’t.” My arm snaked around Courtney’s shoulders, pulling her close.

“Can you show me Rigel?”

I glanced up and pointed. “There. Most people know Orion’s Belt. It’s Orion’s shoe.”

“Shoe?” Courtney laughed. “That seems less poetic than the star that burns the brightest blue.”

“Not every astronomer is a poet.”

“Fair enough.” Courtney adjusted the back of her chair so she could lean back. “Is that the—”

“Milky Way, yes. We lucked out tonight. Even the weather report wasn’t predicting skies this clear.”

“Do you want to reset the camera and take another shot at the star trails?”

I nodded. This time I oriented the camera at Polaris, hoping to capture the circles of star trails. After checking the rest of the settings, I set up another long exposure before grabbing my digital camera and the other tripod.

“Go stand out there.” I waved at the grassy space in front of me.

“Where?”

“About twenty yards or so.”

“What about the coyotes?”

“I’ll rescue you if any wander by.”

Courtney stood silhouetted in the distance with a full night sky of stars behind her.

I played with settings for a while until I managed to get the lighting and focus right.

As much as I loved the craft of film, there was something intensely beautiful about the photos I could create with a digital camera too.

Courtney had been standing out there for about five minutes without speaking. She seemed transfixed by the sky in a way that made my heart fill. After taking several of those shots, I reset the automatic star tracker to try to capture some other angles. Courtney still stood silent.

I didn’t exactly know what sound a coyote made, but I gave it a good try with a muted howl. Courtney whirled around. Her face caught in the red light of my headlamp and glared when she noticed my silent laughter.

Courtney ran back and stood with arms akimbo. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“I told you I’d protect you. You had nothing to worry about.”

I yanked Courtney down into my lap and tipped her chin upward. The kiss was soft at first and then deeper. The equipment clicked once and stole Courtney’s attention.

“This is so much equipment. I thought music setups were intense, but this is bananas. You got all of this yourself?”

“No, the older equipment was my grandfather’s. He was a bit of a hoarder, especially with unique types of film and cameras. It’s good actually because so many of the best and coolest film types are discontinued.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably too expensive to manufacture.”

“He left it all to you?”

“Yep.” I tightened my arms around her. “I think my family was hoping to auction it all off to collectors, but Grandpa knew I wouldn’t do that, which, I think, is why he left it all to me.”

Courtney’s hand slid to hold the back of my head. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Thank you for not thinking I’m a weirdo.”

“If you are a weirdo, you’re definitely my kind of weirdo.

” Courtney lifted her eyes back to the horizon.

“If you don’t have something you love like this…

I think it’s hard to understand the people who do.

Does that make sense? Because sometimes watching you…

watching you be like this with your photography makes me feel like you understand that part of me.

Makes me feel like you know me better than almost anyone. ”

I leaned into the pressure of Courtney’s hand on my head.

“Because it doesn’t make sense to flunk classes because you wanted to photograph Jupiter conjunct with Venus.

Or lose jobs because you were too busy staring at the sky that you missed calls.

” My voice quieted slightly. I had never said any of this aloud before.

“I’ve quit things that get in the way because I can’t shake this inner drive to see things in a new way… capture them in a new way.”

“I really love how you see the world, Thea.”

“Thank you…” I tightened my grip on my camera. “People don’t understand spending this much time on something, knowing that I don’t have the luck or talent or contacts or whatever that would make it a good financial decision.”

“It’s art. The business case almost never makes sense. And that’s okay.”

“It’s weird to talk about it like this. Usually people don’t get it.”

“I’m glad you’re trusting me enough to talk about it.”

“It’s usually about now when I’m with someone that they figure out how much time I spend on this stuff, that they think it’s weird I’m protective about it.

” I hadn’t meant to voice that fear aloud.

“I’m realizing how often when I talk about this…

I end up oversharing. I end up sharing too much of myself.

” I huffed out my nose. “Always ending up the too-much-too-soon girl. At least compared to the people I tried to open up to. Then it turns out they weren’t sharing much of themselves with me at all.

It’s funny that despite strangers always telling me everything, it’s the people who I want to be close to who don…

gosh, I don’t know.” An unexpected tear streaked down my cheek.

Courtney thumbed it away and then kissed the place it had fallen.

“Sorry. That was a lot and a weird thing to talk about with someone who… well—”

Courtney saved me from finishing the sentence with a crushing kiss.

Much later we found ourselves quiet again, watching the stars. Courtney’s hand slipped into mine. “I want to know everything, Thea. And I can’t see that changing.”

I wrapped my heaviest blanket around us both and we watched the movement of Earth. The pathways of the stars mapping the passage of time in a way even I wasn’t sure I had ever fully appreciated until this moment.