As Far as the Stars

by Virginia MacGregor

  I walk up to the table.

  ‘Any more news?’ I ask.

  ‘The coastguard is widening its search for survivors and they’ve been speaking to a fisherman who said he saw the plane at the moment it lost altitude.’

  ‘God, that must have been scary – watching a plane dropping out of the sky.’

  The words hang between us.

  ‘Investigators are still looking for the black box,’ he says without looking up. ‘They say they won’t know anything for sure until they find it, and that takes time, especially when a plane has crashed into the sea.’

  I think about all the other plane crashes I’ve heard about in my life. How rarely anyone survives, especially when it’s a big crash, like this one. And even if, by some miracle, one or two passengers make it, the pilot never does. There’s a reason people who are scared of flying reserve seats at the back of the plane.

  I brush away the thought. We can’t make any assumptions, not until we know for sure.

  ‘Thanks for these,’ I say, holding out Christopher’s T-shirt and boxers.

  At last, he looks up. His eyes go huge and his mouth drops open.

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Wow, what?’

  ‘You look—’

  ‘Ridiculous?’ I ask.

  ‘I was going to say—’

  ‘Over the top? Like a blue meringue? Or a schlumpf?’

  ‘No. Beautiful. I was going to say, beautiful.’

  My cheeks burn. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ He smiles. ‘Especially for someone who doesn’t do dresses.’

  For a second I look at the dress differently. I was so against having to do the whole girly-dress-up thing that I never considered that Mom and Jude had done a good job; chosen something nice – chosen something that made me look nice.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say.

  It’s what Blake would have done: made me feel good about something that I didn’t want to do.

  I realise I’m still holding Christopher’s clothes.

  ‘Here,’ I say.

  I stare down at them and think about how good it felt to wear his boxers and T-shirt compared to how it feels wearing this dress. It might look nice but it’s too tight and frilly and it’s impossible to walk in properly.

  I’d give anything to go and get changed again.

  ‘Why don’t you keep them,’ he says. And then he goes bright red, like I did a second ago. ‘I mean, just in case.’

  ‘In case what?’

  He shrugs. ‘I don’t know. In case you decide to go for another swim?’ He smiles. ‘Seriously, keep them. You can give them back to me another time.’

  And then he goes quiet. And I don’t say anything either. Because we both know that it’s unlikely that there’ll be another time.

  But I don’t care. I hold the clothes to my chest and say: ‘Thanks, I will.’

  Then I sit down in front of him.

  ‘You ready to order?’ Suzy’s standing next to us.

  My heart lurches.

  I look up.

  ‘Air! I thought it was you!’ she says. And then she throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me really tight, like the first time Blake introduced me to her. Like loads of women who’ve fancied Blake over the years have done. As if hugging the baby sister was a way for them to get closer to him. Except with Suzy, I know it’s not fake. She likes me.

  ‘And you!’ She bends down and stretches her hand under the table to give Leda a rub.

  It’s one of the reasons Blake liked to stop here – Suzy let him bring Leda in.

  ‘Blake’s not here,’ I say quickly, pre-empting her question. ‘He’s travelling.’

  She sighs and smiles. ‘Of course. Never could pin that brother of yours down for more than two seconds.’

  I look at her smile and at her wispy blonde hair and at her pretty blue eyes and, I wish, again, that she’d been able to win Blake’s heart. That he’d fallen head over heels in love with her and proposed to her; that they’d have got married and lived with her above this diner or in Grandpa’s flat in Nashville. That he’d been so in love with her that they’d have had a kid together and that he’d have loved the kid so much that he’d have decided to stop going on tour. Because Blake totally loves kids. He’s pretty indifferent to Jude getting married but he’s totally psyched about the possibility of being an uncle. And, of course, he’ll be perfect. The crazy-fun, totally loveable uncle who feeds the kid too much candy and gets away with it. Anyway, if Blake had fallen for Suzy and they’d got together and had a kid, they’d both be at the wedding right now, Suzy would have got him there. I’d have handed over my sort out Blake’s shit mantle to her and the only person I’d have to worry about getting to the wedding was me.

  ‘Blueberry pancakes?’ she asks. ‘Extra maple syrup?’

  I snap back into the present.

  ‘Pancakes?’ she asks again.

  Even though I’ve hardly eaten a thing, I’m not hungry. Not anymore.

  I look over at Christopher, hoping he’ll order so that I don’t have to talk.

  ‘Could we have a couple of coffees first?’ he says.

  I breathe out. He gets it.

  ‘Sure,’ she says. ‘Cute accent by the way.’

  She winks at me, because she’s totally thinking that I’ve hooked up with Christopher. And she goes off to get the coffee.

  I glance out of the window beside us. The morning light streams in, catching the edges of his tangled hair.

  I look down the road in the direction of the bus stop and my stomach clenches. At the thought of having to get back into the car alone. At the thought that, once the wedding’s over, once the world has gone dark and the sun’s come up again, and Blake’s not back – I don’t know what I’m going to do.

  ‘Two coffees.’ Suzy places a couple of mugs in front of us and fills them from her pot of filter coffee.

  ‘Thanks,’ Christopher says.

  ‘Sure you don’t want anything to eat?’ Suzy asks.

  ‘We don’t have much time,’ I say. ‘Christopher’s getting the bus to Atlanta.’

  She smiles at him. ‘Well, you can come back and try our pancakes another time.’

  Christopher smiles back but his face looks strained. ‘That would be nice.’

  I get a lump in my throat. The likelihood of Christopher ever coming this way again is basically zero. The likelihood of us ever seeing each other again once he gets on that bus is basically zero.

  When Suzy’s gone we drink our coffees and listen to the radio from behind the counter. A newsreader on a local station is talking about the eclipse. They’re worried about the weather – that clouds might obscure the totality.

  ‘You’ll probably see it from the bus,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah.’ And then he laughs but it’s a sad laugh. ‘Dad would have been disappointed. We were meant to see the eclipse from a boat on the ocean in Oregon – and now I’m going to see it through a bus window.’

  ‘It’s still the same eclipse,’ I say.

  He looks at me and his eyes brighten and he sits a bit straighter. ‘Yeah, I guess you’re right.’ Then he looks back through the window.

  I look out at the sky too and as I think about standing up at the wedding, in front of everyone, singing Blake’s song, my stomach tightens. I don’t know how I’m even meant to stand up and breathe, let alone sing.

  I tilt back my head trying to get the tears to drain back into my eyes. Then I look at him.

  ‘They’re lucky to have you,’ he says.

  I look at him. ‘What?’

  ‘Your family,’ he says. ‘You’re lucky to have each other. To be so close.’

  And that’s what does it. I totally break down. Because family is what this whole wedding is about. Us coming together to celebrate Jude. To welcome Stephen into the family, officially. Without Blake, that won’t work. Blake’s the one who makes us a family. The glue and the sparkle and the thing that makes us feel like we’re the most special famil
y in the whole damn world. If he doesn’t show up in time, it’s going to ruin the whole wedding.

  ‘Oh God, I can’t do this. I can’t show up at the wedding on my own. I can’t sing Blake’s song for him.’ I start sobbing. My nose streams and tears pour out of my eyes and I can feel my face going red and blotchy.

  He gets out of his side of the booth and then he’s sitting beside me.

  ‘And they’ll blame me. For ruining everything,’ I say, hiccupping between each word. ‘They love Blake. More than anyone. If anyone had to be there, it was him.’

  Christopher pulls some paper napkins from the dispenser and puts them on the table in front of me. I grab one of them and dab my face.

  And then I feel bad. Because Blake not showing up to the wedding is like nothing compared to Christopher’s dad being on that plane. But it somehow feels like this is a turning point for us. Like maybe, if Blake doesn’t keep this promise, if he doesn’t show up, then he may as well not come back at all. Because it will prove that, in the end, no matter how much we love him, Blake puts himself first.

  ‘Even though he was the most unreliable person on the planet, in the end, he was always there – when it mattered, I mean.’ The front of my dress has gone soggy from crying. I dab at the fabric with my snotty tissue. And then I break down again. ‘All this is my fault.’

  I put my head down on the table and let my body slump into itself. Right now, I can’t imagine ever getting up again.

  After a few seconds, there’s a hand on my shoulder blades. He’s hardly pressing down at all but it feels like, through that hand, he’s holding the whole of me together.

  ‘None of this is your fault, Air.’

  He rubs my back in gentle circles like I’m a kid and it feels good, to let go of everything that’s going on, just for a second.

  ‘And you’re going to do to it. You’re going to do whatever it takes for your family. Because they mean more to you than anyone. And you’re going to do it for Jude, because it’s her wedding. And Blake, no matter where he is and no matter how badly he’s messed up, you’re going to do it for him too. And most of all, you’re going to do it for you – because it’s who you are.’

  I look up at him.

  ‘It’s who I am?’

  He nods. ‘Like I said before. It’s showing up that matters. And, from the sounds of it, you show up.’

  I wipe my eyes and sniff.

  ‘But it isn’t fair, that Blake – that everyone – expects that of me, every fucking time.’

  ‘No, it’s not fair.’

  I keep shaking my head.

  ‘I can’t do this,’ I say.

  He puts his hand over mine.

  I look back up at him.

  ‘You want to get into a rocket and fly off into space, right?’

  I nod.

  ‘So being brave is part of your DNA.’ He pauses. ‘You can do this,’ he says again, pronouncing each word really slowly like he’s trying to press them into my brain.

  For a few moments, I don’t answer. Then I say:

  ‘I’m the odd one out.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I’m the only one in my family who can’t do music.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Mom played the cello growing up and Dad played the French horn and they both sang in this acapella group when they were at Oxford. They wanted us to be musical too. When we were little they let us pick our own instruments. Blake chose the guitar. He wanted to be like grandad. Jude picked the piano. And, because I’m competitive and the youngest – and stupid – I chose the violin.’

  ‘Stupid?’

  ‘Because it’s the hardest, right? With the piano or the guitar, you can make up a small tune and everyone sings along and it sounds nice. The violin sounds totally crap until you’re good. Really good. Which was this big joke because it turned out that whereas Blake and Jude are totally gifted musicians, I spent years screeching away while my family clamped their hands over their ears.’

  ‘Do you still play?’

  ‘God no. I gave up as soon as I could.’ I pause. ‘It’s the only thing I’ve ever given up. I’m not a quitter.’

  Mom still plays her cello sometimes, to wind down after a long day at the White House and Dad’s part of this really dorky orchestra in DC where he gets to play his French horn once a week and even though Jude’s given up pursuing a career as a concert pianist, she’s still amazing at it. Sometimes, when she thinks we’re all out of the apartment in DC, I’ve come back to find her playing on the Grand that Dad bought her when she got into Julliard. I know she still loves it. And then there’s me. Hardly able to hold a note.

  At Christmas, they all get out their instruments out. My job? To turn the pages for Jude at the piano.

  The music thing made me realise – along with a whole load of other things that have happened over the years – that how you relate to your family is like this really complicated Venn diagram.

  There are some things we all share. Like that we’re all obsessives: me about outer space, Mom about her legal stuff, Dad about his Greek, Blake about his music, Jude about her teaching and wearing colours that match and the whole getting married stuff.

  And there are some things we share with only one other person. Like Mom and Jude’s thing about making everything look pretty, which Blake, Dad and me totally don’t care about. Well, Blake likes to make himself look pretty, but that’s kind of different.

  And there are some things others share that I don’t get to be part of – like Blake and Jude and Mom and Dad being good at music.

  And there are some things that are totally our own, that make us feel kind of detached and lonely but strong too, because it’s our thing. Like how, whenever Blake walks by, the whole world notices, because he’s got that magnetic, look-at-me thing going on.

  None of the rest of us have that. Not even Jude, who’s really pretty. That’s Blake’s thing. That and the fact that things work out for him, no matter how badly he messes up.

  I blink some tears out of my eyes and sniff.

  Christopher looks at me, his head tilted to one side, his eyes wide and unblinking behind his glasses, and then he gets up and goes to talk to Suzy. I don’t know what about. Maybe he got hungry, though it seems a bit abrupt.

  I stop crying and, slowly, I straighten up.

  When he comes back, he holds out his hand.

  ‘There’s access to the roof,’ he says.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Suzy said we could use it.’

  ‘Use it for what?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  ‘I’ll see? What does that mean?’

  He’s still holding his hand out. He’s totally not being himself – the Christopher who barely had the courage to look at me back at the airport is now directing me to the roof of a diner?

  ‘You spoke to Suzy?’ I ask.

  He nods. ‘When you were in the bathroom.’

  ‘Oh.’

  So, this isn’t an afterthought: he’s planned it.

  ‘It’ll help,’ he says. ‘I promise.’

  ‘Help what?’

  He keeps holding out his hand.

  I hesitate for a second but then I take his hand and he pulls me up onto my feet.

  ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Okay.’

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  08.30 CDT

  Christopher asks Suzy to watch my telescope and his backpack and then he guides me through the kitchens. Leda bounds behind us.

  He walks fast, his head held high, like he’s been here before.

  It smells of pancake batter and bacon and freshly baked muffins. There’s a tray of eclipse-themed donuts on the counter. The diner is on the main route out of Nashville, so I guess Suzy’s expecting quite a crowd today. I have to hold Leda’s collar to stop her from jumping up and grabbing something. I’m pretty sure her being here goes against every food hygiene rule but Suzy hasn’t said anything. Maybe she gets that today isn’t a normal day. That sometimes, we get to break
the rules. And if she loved Blake, breaking the rules would have been part of the deal.

  For some reason, Christopher picks up an eggplant from one of the vegetable bins.

  Yeah, he’s acting totally weird.

  He holds open the back door, which leads straight out to the fire escape.

  Our feet clatter on the steel steps. I have to hitch up my dress to avoid stepping on the hem. Leda darts past us so she’s the first to get to the top.

  When we get to the roof, we stand there for a bit, staring. Leda goes to the edge and looks down and barks at the Buick. I wonder whether she keeps expecting Blake to show up. Whether maybe, in that mysterious way dogs seem to know stuff, she’s got a clearer idea of where he is than I have.

  I scan the skyline. I’ve never seen Knoxville from above. And it’s not that it’s pretty: a big road runs through it and it’s kind of industrial, but when it’s hitched up to the sky – the big, endless sky – it looks beautiful.

  I think about the pictures of the earth taken from outer space. How all you see are those blue and green swirls, the ocean, the earth and the white clouds sweeping round the earth’s atmosphere – how looking at things from the sky edits out all the garbage of life.

  I can tell that Christopher likes it too, behind here, above everything, like somehow, for a few seconds, we’ve stepped out of all the crap that’s going on in our lives.

  I wonder whether Blake’s ever been up here. Maybe with Suzy.

  The sun’s rising, a big ball of fire under the horizon. And the sky’s a pale, brilliant blue.

  A few hours, I think. A few hours and the world will go dark.

  But still, I don’t know why he brought me up here. For the view? Because I told him about my dream, the one where I was sitting on the roof of my house in DC with Blake? Though that would be a bit weird; I don’t need to be reminded of that. The eclipse isn’t for a while and it’s daylight now, so it’s not like we can do any stargazing. Plus, my telescope’s with Suzy.