Between Us and the Moon - Rebecca Maizel Page 0,59
and rare,” I say. Andrew links his arm around my waist.
“What does the Perry Hation mean?”
I don’t correct him because the mispronunciation is really cute.
“When the comet is closest to our sun, it breaks up and melts away. The Comet Jolie is the brightest comet in a century. I’ve tracked it since the University of Hawaii discovered it eleven months ago. Back then it was seventy million miles away.”
“I won’t even ask how they found it,” he says and kisses the nape of my neck. I draw in a little breath from the softness of his lips. He pulls away, but I want him to do it again. “Thanks for inviting me.”
Andrew lies down on the sand and holds his hands behind his head. My summer dress barely falls to my knees, and I conclude this is not the most convenient ensemble to have worn. Andrew squints up at the constellations above and the comet streaking across the sky. I squat down to record other observations: the tail, the brightness, and environmental factors.
“Want to know how it works?” I ask.
“Sure,” he says, but it’s polite, distracted. The sudden detachment in his tone makes me nervous and of course, I start stuttering.
“The telescope will take a series of pictures of the comet. When I’m done, I’ll go home, upload them to my computer, analyze all the other nights I tracked its coordinates. If I was right—well, I don’t know,” I finish lamely. “It could help with grants, scholarships.”
I put down the pen, snap off the red light, and let the stars do the rest of the talking. I lie down on the cool sand next to Andrew.
“Are you okay?” I ask after a couple of silent moments. “You’re suddenly kind of quiet.”
Andrew’s eyes still look up to the sky. Soon his warm hand is on top of mine. “I’ve never seen a comet before,” he says.
“Cape Cod has some of the best viewing conditions on the East Coast.”
“I feel like I have to tell you something.”
He is on his side looking at me again just like on our first date.
“Does it involve tutoring a girl named Becky or any girl for that matter?”
“No . . . ?”
“Continue.”
He raises one eyebrow but shakes his head seemingly to refocus.
“I—” He hesitates and pinches some sand between his thumb and index finger. He lets it drizzle back to the ground. “I—took a leave from school.”
“From BC?”
He nods. “I’ve been living here all winter. I’m supposed to start back up in the fall. So I sort of . . . lied to you about being in school right now.”
“Why?”
“What I told you the other night at the Alvin. I need to work for Mike’s family. Lobstering. With him gone, they need someone.”
“But that’s not what you want. You said so.”
“I owe it to them.”
I shake my head. Like Andrew’s guilt about the accident, this decision also seems illogical to me.
“You’re frowning,” Andrew says.
“No. No, I’m not.” I shake my head quickly.
“You can’t see your face. Wow! Now look!” He laughs and I cover my face with my hands.
“Stop,” I cry, and despite the serious moment I laugh at my palms.
“Sorry. I know we haven’t known one another that long. But I thought I should be honest with you about the fall. I’ll be here on the Cape, it’s only an hour away.”
“Did they ask you to do that?” I ask. “Work for them?”
“Who? Mike’s family?”
“Yeah.”
“Not exactly.”
I sit back on my elbows. “Are you asking me my advice?” No one except Tucker has ever asked for my advice. “I’m probably not very good at giving it,” I add.
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“I proceed at my own risk.”
I could be Scarlett. I could be aloof, throw my head back, and tell him not to worry. But that’s not what I want. He showed me tonight when he looked through that telescope that he gets me. The supreme, logical, hyper detailed me.
“Let’s talk about probability. Let’s pretend you were at the party, but you didn’t get in the car that night. Let’s also pretend that you told Curtis and Mike to go, but you didn’t want to drive with someone intoxicated.” He shifts. I know that changing positions or deflecting your gaze to an object instead of someone’s eyes are all signs of being uncomfortable. “Forget it.”
“No. Keep going.”
I exhale. “Look, I don’t need to get into a deep discussion of Bayesian probability or quantum mechanics.”
“Please don’t.”
I chuckle again and continue, “Probability is all about how likely something