Page Turner Pa
Page 17
"My Paul," she said, kissing him on the forehead. "Always neat as a pin." Automatically she smoothed back his hair. "Well, I think I'll do my little ablutions now, if you don't mind. Oh, what about your dinner party?"
"It doesn't matter," Paul said. "You get ready for bed. I've got to make a call." And he went off to the kitchen to phone Alden.
By the time he was through, his mother had washed and changed. She was in her nightgown now, lying on his bed in the dark.
"The ceiling's covered with stars," she said.
"I know."
"Lie down next to me," she said, and he did. "I used to know all about astronomy. Before I met your father, that is. I had this boyfriend, Pete Carruthers, who was a stargazer, and he taught me."
"What did he teach you?"
"Well, for instance, that constellation there, that's Ursa Major. The Big Dipper. And that one over there, that's the Little Dipper. Ursa Minor. And that very bright star, do you know which one that is?"
"The North Star?"
"It's not a star at all. It's Mars."
"What's the bright spot behind it? Is that the North Star?"
"Ganymede," Pamela said. "One of the brightest moons that circles Jupiter."
"I know all about Ganymede," Paul said. "Jove carried him off to be his cupbearer."
"Did he?"
"Mmm-hmm."
They were silent. Not far off a clock ticked. And the stored-up light drained out of the stars.
Later that night, riding a Ferris wheel on Coney Island, Bobby Newman looked at Teddy Moss, and said, "I love you."
At first Teddy didn't answer. Up and up the Ferris wheel carried them, until they neared the top, where he reached for a sliver of alabaster moon. Silently he stretched his palm, opened his fingers into a sky that was all purples and mauves and ripe blue-browns—as if a moment could be lived so hard, it bruised.