A Thousand Starry Nights

by Addison Moore

  We head into her pink kingdom, and Abby quickly shuttles me around showing me boxes of toys, stacks of books, and a vanity full of makeup that would make any grown woman envious. I know Cher is all about the material things, superficial things, I just had no clue she’d take things this far. We don’t see eye to eye on most details, so this doesn’t surprise me.

  “Come here, baby.” I take a seat on the bed, and Abby hops into my lap with her little hands slung around my neck. “You think it’s okay to talk about what happen yesterday?”

  Her little face grows serious as she gives a solemn nod.

  “You want to tell me what happened?”

  “Mommy says—”

  I shake my head. “You.” I gently press my finger to her tummy. “You tell me what happened. Mommy wasn’t there. I want to hear what Abby knows.”

  “Hey—I’m Abby, crazy!” She laughs and gives my nose a pinch. It’s clear to see Abby isn’t traumatized. The physician in the ER said she was fine. And Cher made sure there was a complete body scan to prove it. Cher is a good mother. She just doesn’t know where the boarders of good judgment are, thus her propensity to cross them.

  Abby stares up at the ceiling a second. “Hey, you know what happened!” She giggles again.

  “I wasn’t there, either. Walk me through it. You were in class and Aspen came to pick you up.”

  “No, I was—I was just getting off the buses, and it was free time. My knee hurt. I hurted it, and it was bleeding all over. Ms. Robyn cleaned it. I wanted you to come get me, but Ms. Robyn says I have to go home with Aspen.”

  “Mmm.” I tried to look bummed that I couldn’t pick her up. I had my fucking phone. Why in the hell didn’t the school call me? “Ms. Robyn said you had to go home with Aspen?”

  She nods.

  “And then did Aspen come to get you?”

  “She did. Aspen is funny. After we were driving, I said hey, I’m short!” She does a caricature imitation of herself, and I can’t help but smile. “Aspen didn’t have a car seats, so she said she was going to buy me one and a DBD.”

  “At the store?”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t get to buy it because she forgot her purse in the car. We had to get away from the bad guys. It was scary. I had to cry. Aspen carried me in the bushes, and we hided from them.”

  My mind goes numb.

  “Did you see these bad guys?”

  “They was—they was in a car. A truck. Aspen gave me chocolate, and we watcheded Frozen, then Mommy got me.”

  “That’s right.” I hold her tight. I know the rest, but the details Abby just provided shed a little more light on the situation. “Did you ask Ms. Robyn why she didn’t call Daddy?”

  “She said Aspen has to get me.”

  “Do you like Aspen?”

  “Aspen’s Daddy’s friend. Aspen’s my friend, too.” She rests her tiny head over my shoulder, and I hold her like that for a long while.

  Aspen is Daddy’s friend.

  I hope Aspen still wants to be my anything.

  * * *

  My next stop this morning is to the Regency Montessori Day School. The children are enjoying a noisy recess when I arrive and spot Robyn in the center of the blacktop along with another teacher. I give a slight wave, and she freezes. Robyn leans in and whispers something to the woman by her side before heading back into the building.

  Huh. I know for a fact she saw me. Maybe she’s getting something, some legal paperwork the school has for me. I can only presume the shit has hit the administrative fan. I weave in through the side and make my way down a series of snaking corridors only to cut her off in the courtyard just before the Kindergarten yard.

  “Morning.” I try to sound cheerier than usual. That, alone, should tip her off to the fact I’m good and pissed. I’d like nothing more than to wrangle the truth from both this little Ms. Priss and my lying bitch of an ex-wife.

  “Oh, is that you?” She glances around superstitiously. “I was just taking a quick bathroom break. You know, got to do the potty run when I can around here.” She gives a nervous giggle. Her glasses stray down her nose for a moment, and she readjusts them.

  “I’m so very glad Abby is fine.” Her neck and cheeks blotch with splatters of crimson. Her fingers bat around her lips as if she were swatting back the truth trying to erupt. I’m no behavioral intelligence expert, but Ms. Robyn here is looking guilty as hell. “Abby isn’t here today. You should really think about communicating a little more with Cheryl.”

  She tries to breeze past me, and I block her path. The look of horror in her eyes lets me know she wants nothing to do with this conversation.

  “I just have a few questions.” I force a grin to come and go.

  “Well, I have to use the restroom.” She points just past my shoulder. “But an incident report was filed. I gave a statement. It’s all there in black and white.”

  “Good, I’m glad. I’ll have my attorney look over it. We’ll be needing you to perform a polygraph as well. Just something he requested, a formality. My custody is on the line, so I need to dot all my I’s cross my T’s.” I’m lying through my teeth. My attorney didn’t make any such request, but I’m guessing if I toss enough money at him, he’ll jump through a hoop of a fire if I want him to.

  Her face breaks out in a neon pink rash, and I know. Someway, somehow, Cher is at the bottom of this rank, odious nightmare. Robyn, here, was simply roped into one of her vengeful plans.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you,” I offer up my false assurance. “You have a great job. This is the best preschool in the state. I’m sure you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your position here.”

  Her hand flies to her chest. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “How did Abby do at the zoo yesterday?”

  “Oh, she liked it. She skinned her knee, but that was about it. I think seeing the blood really upset her.”

  “That must be why she asked for me to pick her up.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes enlarge and stay that way once she realizes her error.

  So Aspen didn’t simply show up and handpick Abby off the playground as Cher insists. It’s funny how in less than twenty-four hours this woman’s story has had a polar shift in direction.

  “I’d better let you go. I just wanted to stop by and thank you personally for taking such good care of my daughter.” I hold her gaze a moment with a hard, enraged stare. “Don’t worry about that polygraph. I’m sure you’ll pass with flying colors.”

  Her mouth opens involuntarily as she gazes off into nothing.

  “I’ll have a copy of that report forwarded to my attorney.” I give her a quick pat to the shoulder. “He’ll be in touch.”

  She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to.

  * * *

  Afterwards, I text Lincoln and let him know I’m gunning for him next. He’s at Jinx, so I tell him not to move. I call my brothers and tell them to meet me in Lionheart’s office. By the time I arrive they’re all sitting in a half circle looking as if they want to kill one another. Stevie is there as well, glowing and beautiful with her ripe belly the size of a beach ball. Aspen and Stevie look so much alike. If she turned her head, I could convince myself she were Aspen.

  “Carter,” she says my name with a curt edge. Stevie has always been my biggest advocate when it comes to her sister. I’d hate to slip to her dark side.

  “What’s going on?” Ford pulls me into a half hug. Carson and Cash give a quick nod. Cash isn’t in the Aspen fan club, but Carson, for the most part, is indifferent.

  “I talked to Abby. She says she skinned her knee on the field trip.” I take a seat on the edge of Lincoln’s desk, and he frowns at the gesture. “Abby tells me her teacher said Aspen would be the one to pick her up. The school notified Aspen to pick up Abby. There was no kidnapping.”

  Stevie claps her hands loud as the crack of a whip. “Call off the damn dogs. I told you my sister was innocent.”

  “Yes, well”—I pinch
my eyes shut and rub the shit out of them—“the dogs belong to my ex-wife. I need a little more evidence on my side. I’m afraid my three-year-old daughter isn’t going to cut it.”

  “So, now what?” Ford looks just as pissed as Stevie, and I’m glad. I want all of his sympathies mustered for the woman I love. Aspen is going to need it when he finds out she stole a boatload of his money.

  “So—I went to the source. Abby’s teacher basically admitted to the fact she called Aspen. I’m sure Aspen has a phone record to prove this. I don’t think we’ll have any problem getting the charges against her dropped.”

  Stevie gives a slow, solemn nod. “And then we’re going to sue your ex-wife for libel. I’m going to make sure she never forgets how she tried to ruin my sister. She’s unfit to raise a dog, let alone a child.”

  “Stevie,” Ford says her name softly.

  “No. She’s right.” I swallow hard. “I’ll take her to court myself. If I can prove that she orchestrated this, I’ll be suing for full custody. It’s her fault Aspen was called to the school—that she drove off with Abby without a car seat. And Aspen would never have been in that accident if it weren’t for that phone call. It’s a tragic chain of events that could have led to far more unfortunate circumstances.”

  “That was no accident.” Cash hands me his phone, and I scroll through picture after picture of Aspen’s thrashed car.

  “My God,” I whisper trying to take it all in. The driver’s side is physically gone. There is no left side of the vehicle. This isn’t some fender bender, this is the work of a maniac. My chest heaves as I fight back tears. “How the hell did they get out of this alive?”

  “My sister”—Stevie projects over my heavy breathing—“is a badass hero. She saved that little girl’s life and her own. You should be throwing her a parade for how she handled herself. Nobody should have survived that wreckage.”

  Carter jumps to my side and stares into the phone. “I’m confused.” He’s eschewed his business suit for sweats and a T-shirt. It looks like I caught him in the middle of a workout, and he’s got the body odor to back it. “Who the hell hit her? Was it a hit and run?” He leans into the phone. “Those are serious gashes. This was no love tap.”

  “That’s what I want to know.” I spin and look to Lincoln who’s being suspiciously quiet. “Who the hell would want to hurt Aspen, and does it have anything to do with the money she took?” My body goes numb. I’m not sure I wanted those last few words to slip out, but I need the truth.

  Stevie and Ford look over at me with blank faces.

  “It’s already been repaid.” Lincoln lets out a breath while looking to his sister. “I added eight hundred thousand to the general fund this morning. I might have padded it a bit as an apology. ” He glances to Cash with a look that says eat shit and die. “The books should balance quite nicely.”

  Stevie doesn’t say a word, just keeps her eyes hooked on her brother’s as if speaking in code.

  “I would have done the same.” I give a nod of approval in Lincoln’s direction. “Did the people that were trying to kill her have anything to do with why she borrowed those funds?”

  “Borrowed?” Lincoln cocks his head amused. “I believe the terms felony charges were tossed around just yesterday. You outright called my sister a thief.”

  “Because she is one,” Cash is quick to note.

  “Shut the hell up,” I snipe. I need Lincoln to fill in the blanks. And, according to what I can surmise, there are a few nasty details that have been left out of the picture.

  “Henry bought a boat.” Lincoln rests his chin on his hand.

  “Henry?” It feels strange saying his name out loud. I’ve thought about him for years, obsessed over the fact he was touching my wife, sleeping next to her when he didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air.

  “Yes, Henry,” Lincoln barks. “The man who is still legally her husband. He bought a fucking yacht with a slip. He borrowed money from a loan shark. They both knew the drill. This wasn’t his first rodeo.”

  “The boat.” Stevie closes her eyes a moment as if the pieces are falling together. “What a fucking moron.”

  A dull laugh rides through me. “Henry isn’t known as much else.” I should have known I’d find Henry at the bottom of Aspen’s financial troubles.

  “I’m talking about my sister.” Stevie’s features harden. “She should have come to me, and, instead, she stole from me.”

  “She let her pride get in the way.”

  “And now there are men trying to kill her?” Stevie’s voice vibrates through the room like an opera singer.

  “Not anymore.” Lincoln closes his eyes. “I did a little digging last week. I found out who was in charge. They run through a front called Sonic Glass. I thought I’d keep the info in my back pocket in the event I needed it—and today I did.” He fans his fingers. “I called my guy with the feds. They shut them down and arrested the entire snake pit faster than you can say RICO. Aspen’s not in anymore danger.”

  Lincoln glances to his phone. “She’s calling.” He picks up. “What’s going on? I’m in a meeting.” He glances to me before spinning in his seat and mumbling into the receiver. “Will do.” He spins back around and directs his hatred right at me. “Looks like your ex-wife’s attorney doesn’t waste any time. Aspen was just served with a temporary restraining order. She’s not allowed in your home or your place of employment. She’s not even allowed to call you on the phone when you have your kid. Court date’s in ten days.”

  “And so it begins.” Carson looks to Lincoln. “You’d better get your sister one barracuda of an attorney.” He looks to me and holds out his hands. “No offense, but anyone can see that Cher’s got a screw loose. I wouldn’t want to be on her bad side.”

  “I’ll handle it.”

  The room drains save for Stevie and Ford, Lincoln took off with Cash like they were about to have a fistfight.

  Ford comes over, pissed, worried for me. “I’ve got a lawyer I keep on the side for serious shit our legal team can’t handle. What else do you need?”

  “A good detective. I want to know everything there is about our boy, Henry.” I glance to Stevie. “I wish I never let her marry that asshole in the first place.”

  “Should a, would a, could a.” She pulls me into a nice long hug. “Go to my sister,” she whispers. “Whatever happened last night on that beach killed her.”

  My heart sinks.

  The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her in any way.

  I said we were unbreakable, and, here we are, broken in pieces on the ground.

  God wins.

  I’m pleading for mercy.

  Stellar Evolution

  Aspen

  It could be said of King Henry VIII and his six wives that they were collectively unlucky in love. Love, much like Henry, is a fickle creature, smitten for a time then prone to spectacular bouts of heartbreak. That’s what I’m entertaining at the moment, a spectacular bout of heartbreak.

  The studio is the only place that gives me solace—it’s the only place that ever really has. I need the plain white walls, the wide spaces, high ceilings, the lack of a public to judge me, the smell of turpentine, my beautiful acrylics. I love each color like a child. Sometimes, when I’m in a mood, I can mix paint for hours. Today’s soothing task consists of stretching a new canvas. I unfold the raw, untreated material across the floor in one clean ecru line. The fabric is of a heavy weight, organic cotton, but I was tempted to try linen instead. I think I’ll make that my goal this year—create a series of stretched canvases consisting of different materials. I like the process, the elbow grease that goes into creating your own blank space. I like stroking it lovingly with gesso, righting all the textural grievances until the surface is smooth as a river stone. I plan to make up a set of paintbrushes using my hair. All of my artistically inclined friends have already done this with their children’s hair, their boyfriend’s hair, their dog’s hair, their own. This is the year I dip my to
e into everything I’ve been putting off. If this fiasco with Carter has taught me anything, it’s don’t put off paying attention to the things, the people that you love. In the end, every hour is fleeting—especially when there’s a manipulative bitch working against you.

  Terri walks in on heels as tall as stilts, a white paper bag in hand.

  “Sustenance.” She lands it beside me, and I peer inside.

  “Onion rings. Thank you.”

  “I don’t believe in any of that starving artist bullshit.” She makes a face at the canvas laid out on the floor. “Why do you insist on doing this? Give me your sizes, and I’ll have them custom made.” A crooked smile rises on her cheek. “Your sister has given a generous donation to the studio.”

  Stevie endowed the gallery with enough money to fund a mission to Mars. Terri is free to live out her watercolor, dark poetry, iron-welding dreams. I’ve already filled her in on how I became a societal pariah overnight. I suggested she burn all my work before the angry villagers stormed the facility, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

  “I’ve finally collected on the paintings you sold at the exhibit. All but one.”

  “Nice.” I had forgotten all about the fact I actually managed to sell a few pieces, they’ll be hanging here until June. “Sum total?”

  “Nine thousand, four hundred dollars—for now.”

  “I’ll take it. Now to figure out how to come up with a half a million plus, I’ll be just fine.”

  She cackles a dark laugh. Her short, pointed nails claw at my shoulder as if she were petting me. “You remolded a man’s world and made it your own, Aspen. You sacrificed nothing and gained everything.”

  “Terri—I may have gained a prison sentence.” As much as I hate to sober her up with the truth, I don’t deserve the patina of glory she’s painting me with. “And the funny thing is, I’m not even upset over it. If it comes to that, it’s because I deserve it. What I don’t deserve, and what I actually hate, is the way Carter’s ex-wife continues to treat me. She was the same way when we were in school. Always manipulating things to go her way. That’s how she ended up in bed with Carter. That’s how Abby managed to win the lottery of life, and that’s how she became Mrs. Cannon while I stayed home and cried into my pillow. And now she wants me gone for good, doing time for an entirely fabricated reason. If she knew there were valid reasons to put me behind bars, I doubt she would have bothered.”