Until the End of the World (Book 3): All the Stars in the Sky

by Sarah Lyons Fleming

  “I bagged us a turkey for Christmas,” Nelly says.

  “What?” I ask. “I didn’t think there were wild turkeys in Alaska.”

  “I didn’t shoot it, I won it in poker. Peter’s going to cook it in the kitchen the night before.”

  We’re having Christmas dinner at the big cabin. Chuck and Rich are invited, along with a few others besides our group. It’s such a large town that everyone couldn’t eat dinner together anyway.

  Adam walks in and removes his shoes, unlike his other half. “It’s so warm in here.”

  I wedge another piece of wood into the stove. “But the bedroom is still cold, even if it’s ninety degrees out here.”

  “Why don’t you snuggle with Peter?” Nelly asks. “That’ll warm you.”

  “Would you stop?” I ask, and head for the kitchen without looking up because I know they’re all staring and my face is a dead giveaway. I’m most afraid of Penny thinking I’m usurping Ana, or that I don’t miss her.

  Adam sighs. “Nel, shut—” He breaks off when Peter walks in.

  “Hey, are we having a party?” Peter asks.

  Adam stands and drags Nelly to the door. “We were just leaving.”

  They say their goodbyes, and Peter moves to where I’m wrapping up what’s left of dinner, my cheeks finally cool. “Dinner was yummy, thanks,” I say.

  “I knew you wouldn’t leave the house in this, and then you’d eat something crappy.”

  A layer of ice swooped in this morning, and with my walking skills being what they are at times, I came home after breakfast shift and art class. “It’s a good thing. We were going to eat your cookies.”

  His mouth drops. “You wouldn’t.”

  Peter may love Bits more than life itself, but he doesn’t share his Oreos. I refused when he offered me some because I never would’ve enjoyed the corn syrup as much as he does. I like to tease him, though. As long as I keep things silly, I don’t worry that he’ll see how I feel. I stand on my tiptoes and pretend to reach for their hiding place in an upper cabinet.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” he says, and spins me around by my belt.

  I lean against the counter and smile up at him. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

  It comes out low and flirty instead of silly, and his eyes darken in response. His hand is still on my waist, its warmth radiating through my shirt to my skin. I think he wants to kiss me, and I’m pretty sure I’m failing at hiding how much I want him to. His gaze lowers when I moisten my lips, his fingers digging into my waist.

  “Well, I’ve got a date,” Penny says.

  We jump and turn to find Penny standing, fingers on her glasses. I’d forgotten she was here, and so must have Peter, because his hand drops like a stone and he takes a step back. My throat tightens when I think about how it must look that I sleep in the same bed and spend most of my time with her dead sister’s boyfriend. How obvious my desire must have been to the both of them just now. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t done anything to feel guilty about; wanting it makes me guilty enough. Even if Ana did say she’d want Peter to move on, even if I truly think she’d be glad.

  Penny eases her feet into her soft boots and heads to the door. Just before leaving, she smiles our way, although it’s tinged with sorrow. It doesn’t exactly give me the go-ahead, but maybe it says she wouldn’t hate me forever. I can’t tell if Peter’s noticed since he looks everywhere but at me.

  The kids come from the bedroom. Bits’s eyes widen when she sees Peter, and she holds her arms straight by her sides. Peter clears his throat. “Everything all right, baby girl?”

  “Yes,” she says. “We were in your room for a reason.”

  “Okay. Do you want to tell me the reason?”

  Hank shakes his head at Bits, who will blurt out everything as if under torture with almost no prodding. “No. It’s a pot for you,” she says, and slaps her hand to her mouth.

  “You’re the worst,” Hank says with a groan. “I should’ve wished for you to be able to keep secrets.”

  I burst into laughter while Peter bites back a smile. He meets my eyes and the awkward moment passes. Peter’s still my best friend, and I don’t want to lose that. If he doesn’t feel the same, I’ll have to find a way to let this go.

  I lose at Monopoly for the thousandth time, even using Hank’s secret system, after which we head to bed. I’m almost asleep when Peter’s hand brushes my hair. I don’t know if it means we’re back to normal or if we’re heading somewhere new, but either way, he’s with me.

  CHAPTER 65

  Barn and Sparky devour their bones while Bits and Hank tear through their presents. Hank holds up the X-Men comics and raises his eyebrows at Bits. When he gets to his stocking, he sits quietly with the small portrait I made of his family in his lap. I’m never sure if it’s a good idea to make a portrait for someone who hasn’t asked, but so far it’s always been appreciated.

  I sit on the floor behind him. “I thought you might want them here today. I was going to wait, but…”

  Hank nods and moves into my lap. It won’t fit in a pocket like Bits’s locket, but it’s small enough to tuck in a bag if we have to leave.

  “Sometimes Christmas can be hard,” I say. “It’s when we miss people the most.”

  “I’m excited it’s Christmas, though.” His voice cracks. It’s been doing that occasionally, but this isn’t puberty.

  I twist one of his dreads. “It’s normal to be a whole lot sad and be happy at the same time. And it’s normal to feel guilty about being happy.”

  “It is?”

  “Absolutely. But your dad would want you to be happy. It wouldn’t hurt his feelings. I know that for a fact.”

  “Okay.” He traces Henry’s and Dottie’s faces with his finger and stops on Corrine’s purple shirt. “How did you know Corrie liked purple?”

  “She kept wishing she’d brought her favorite purple shirt to the campground,” I say. “She told me all about it, so I made it up from her description.”

  “It looked just like this. She wouldn’t shut up about it. I forgot about that.”

  He rests his head on my collarbone and doesn’t move for a long while. Finally, he goes up to the loft and comes down empty-handed. “I put it by my bed. It’s near my bag in case we have to go.”

  “Good idea,” I say. “But I don’t think we’ll have to go anytime soon, and I can always make another.” He’s slow to smile, but when he does like he is now, it lights up his face.

  “Open yours, Peter!” Bits says. Peter winces when she drops the heavy pot in his lap.

  “Whatever could this be?” He unwraps the fabric we’ve wrapped it in and looks my way. “You remembered the color. I love it, thank you.” He hugs the kids and admires his pot some more, then passes me a package. “Here.”

  It’s a large canning jar full of something thick and brown. “What is it?”

  “Poop. We made you a jar of poop,” Peter says, which sends the kids into hysterics.

  I dip in a finger and groan in pleasure at the buttery caramel but screw the cap closed before I eat it all. “That’s good poop. Thank you.”

  “I told you I’d make you caramel sauce one day.”

  And I told you I’d love you forever if you did, I don’t say back. I’m sure he doesn’t remember. “Wait!” I say as he hands me a jewelry box. “You have to open your other two.”

  He unwraps the espresso maker and then the box with the espresso beans I hoarded, of which there are more at Nelly’s. I hold up the caramel sauce and bounce. “I see a caramel macchiato in my future!”

  “Hey, is this present for me or for you?” Peter turns the espresso machine over in his hands and smiles. “You were right when you said to keep it. Thank you.” I’d hoped he would remember our conversation in the RV. He points to the box in my hand. “It’s just a silly present. I found it in Anchorage.”

  Under the lid is a silver half of a heart on a bed of cotton. It says Best and has a few tiny cut-ou
t stars. The edge where the other half of the heart would be is curved, waiting for its mate.

  “It has stars, so I couldn’t resist.” Peter digs in his jeans and pulls out the half that says Friends. “I keep it in my pocket.”

  I smile in thanks, but my throat closes so that I can’t say a word.

  “I want one for me and Hank,” Bits says.

  “Only if I can keep it in my pocket,” Hank says. “You must be crazy if you think I’m wearing a heart necklace.”

  Peter laughs at the exchange. I head to the bedroom before anyone sees my tears, but Peter is there a minute later. “Shit, I’m sorry. I thought it would be funny.”

  “It’s not funny.” I touch his arm when his face tightens. “It means more than you know.”

  It’s as much as I can say without treading into dangerous waters. My heart is full. It’s grown back like that lizard’s tail, but it’s not a shoddy facsimile. It’s different for sure, but it’s better.

  “I heard what you said to Hank. I know you’re right, but it’s hard to do.” He looks as if he wants to say more, but he doesn’t.

  “It is,” I whisper. It’s a mixture of betrayal of the person who’s gone and the fear that you’ll lose the next person, too. I know it well—I still have the fear, if not the betrayal. “Thank you. Really. Thank you. Sorry I’m such a nincompoop.”

  “You’re not a nincompoop.” He takes my chin and looks into my eyes. “You’re a weirdo.”

  I’m so surprised that I laugh. I’m even more surprised when he kisses me softly on the lips, then smiles and walks out.

  ***

  We’re all full to bursting. The turkey has been reduced to bones and all the dishes people brought to Christmas dinner have been demolished.

  Penny slouches in a chair, looking as if she might burst for real. I sit at her feet and rub her knee. “So, maybe no Christmas baby, huh?”

  “I’m going to be pregnant forever. She’ll grow up and go to college without ever being born.”

  “I’m calling New Year’s,” James says.

  Penny’s eyes well up. “Don’t say that. We’ll miss the party.”

  We’ve heard all about the New Year’s party of last year, with its alcohol, music and bonfires. The entire world is frozen and there’s no need for quiet. Apparently, it’s a bit like an office Christmas party, and the kids sleep in the upstairs of the brewery while it rages all night long.

  “There’ll be other parties,” I say. “At least you won’t have to go to college with her if she comes out.”

  “Her wedding night would be super awkward,” James says.

  Penny laughs and turns to me. “It would ruin your New Year’s, too.”

  “It’s just another night. We’ll have our own party later.”

  “Well, just so you know, I’m not making out with you at midnight,” Penny says.

  “There goes my New Year’s wish.”

  Penny’s eyebrow arches. “Maybe you can think of someone else you’d like to kiss. There must be someone around here somewhere.”

  Her smile says she’s enjoying getting me back for the years I’ve spent torturing her about bases and the like. The conversation moves to another topic, but I don’t hear a word. As much as I want to find a rock to crawl under, I feel as if another rock has been lifted from my shoulders. I think I might have just gotten Penny’s blessing.

  After I’ve made the rounds, I stand by the window and drink the one beer we were each allotted. Usually we don’t light many lamps, but tonight the entire cabin is aglow like the old days. I pull out my phone and snap pictures of Ash and Nat giggling in a corner. Jasmine and Nicki show off their presents while Jamie and Kyle look on. They haven’t jumped into anything, but he smiles a lot more these days, especially at her.

  Margaret sits on a couch, new hairdo framing her face. She’s being her usual quiet self, although she’s quiet in a way that says she’s drinking in the festivities rather than holding herself apart from them. I walk to where Rich leans on a wall, also peacefully watching the fun. “Have you met Margaret?” I ask him.

  “Sure.”

  “Have you spoken to Margaret?” Rich shakes his head, lips twitching. “Well, come meet her again.”

  I pull him across the room and plant him on the arm of the couch. “Margaret, you know Rich, right?” She nods. “Well, you guys grew up near each other. I bet you know some of the same people. Rich, didn’t you once say you liked classical music?”

  “Yup.”

  “Margaret used to play violin.”

  He raises an interested eyebrow, but neither of them speaks. This might be more work than I bargained for. “I’m sure there are tons of things to discuss in the world of classical music,” I say, out of my depth now. “You know, like composers and symphonies and stuff.”

  “The first time I met Rich he was blasting Verdi’s Requiem to lead away a pod,” Peter says from behind me. I turn with a grateful smile.

  “That’s quite a piece,” Margaret says. “What orchestra?”

  Rich mumbles something I can’t hear, but Margaret must have because she answers. I slip back to the window. Peter comes with me, and I nudge him when Rich moves to my empty spot. Rich’s mouth opens and closes, as does Margaret’s, so I can only assume they’re having a full-fledged conversation. A very slow-paced conversation, but a conversation nonetheless.

  “You think?” Peter asks, eyes on the pair.

  “It’s worth a shot. They can be quiet together.”

  He finishes his beer and wipes his mouth. “Good point. Is there anyone here you haven’t tried to pair off?”

  I take in the room, ignoring the glaringly obvious answer that stands next to me. “Mark. I haven’t found the right lady yet. Zeke and Liz did it on their own. I’m still working on Patricia and Terry. Chuck.”

  “Work on Chuck. He deserves someone.”

  “I have a few candidates in mind.”

  “Of course you do.”

  I’d thought it might be sad tonight with all the empty spaces where people should be. But what I said to Hank was true: I know that if they’re somewhere, they’re nothing but pleased. Ana’s probably screaming at me to stop being such a wuss. I toast the air and drink down the dregs of my beer.

  “Tired?” Peter asks.

  “Nope.”

  “Good. You still have another present coming.”

  “I do?” I ask.

  “Yup. It’s a long one.”

  “How can a present be long? Is it a measuring tape?”

  “Great, now you’ve ruined the surprise,” Peter says. “I know how much you love measuring things.” I push him with my shoulder. He gets me back and says, “Let’s go home and find out.”

  Bits and Hank go willingly, worn out by excitement and turkey. Once they’re in bed, Peter says, “We’ll have to do it in the bedroom so we don’t wake them.”

  I stare at Peter until he’s pinkish and walk to the bedroom, where he arranges pillows at the head of the bed. He tells me to put on my pajama pants and read while I wait. “This is getting weird,” I say, and he leaves with an enigmatic smile.

  I pull up the blankets and stare into space. Obviously, this is not some sort of seduction present, unless Peter is suddenly turned on by ugly pajamas. My lips still tingle from his kiss this morning. It could hardly have been more chaste, but I think it held a promise—a promise I want him to keep.

  The aroma of popcorn seeps into the room. Finally, he opens the door a crack. “Close your eyes.”

  He sets something in my lap and I hear a soft electronic beep after he settles himself beside me. “Comfortable?” he asks. I nod. “Okay, open them.”

  The first thing I see is the bowl of popcorn in my lap. The second is the tablet that Peter holds, The Big Lebowski beginning to play on its screen.

  “You didn’t!” I screech and cover my mouth. The last thing I need right now is two woken-up kids.

  “I did. And there are two more movies besides this one.”r />
  He shushes me when I try to thank him. I watch the first five minutes in silence, wondering how he managed this, how he remembered it at all and how I deserve someone so incredible, even as a friend. He props the tablet on his knees and puts an arm around my shoulders the way he used to, when he’d say I fit right under his chin. I can remember all the good things about Peter these days.

  “Thank you so—” I begin.

  “Shhh. Don’t talk during the movie.” I try to speak again, but he covers my mouth. “Movie.”

  I pull his hand away. “I can practically recite this movie. Would you let me say thank you?”

  “Okay.” He waits a beat and asks, “Well? I’m waiting.”

  I laugh. “Thank you. Very, very much. This is the—”

  “You’re welcome. Now watch.” He shoves a handful of popcorn in my open mouth. And Heaven help me, I think I’ve just fallen in love a tiny bit more.

  CHAPTER 66

  I’m enjoying a New Year’s Eve bath when Bits flies into the steamy room. “Penny’s having the baby!”

  “What?” I ask. “Now?”

  Bits spins around. “Yes! Come on!”

  I arrive at Penny’s cabin with my hair frozen solid and burst in the door to find her on the couch reading a book. “What’s the matter?” she asks. Her eyes widen. “Oh God, I shouldn’t have sent Bits. It’s going to be hours and hours. What did she say?”

  I plop down next to her and try to regain my breath. “Basically that a baby was hanging out of you. But it’s happening?”

  “The contractions are five minutes apart. But they aren’t bad—I just have to breathe through them. There’s one now.” She puts down her book and inhales through her nose.

  I wait for it to end and ask, “Is Glory coming?”

  “She was already here,” Penny says with a shrug. “Said to get her when they were three minutes apart and lasting a minute. Sooner if I wanted her here.” Penny’s been stressing about this day for months and now we might as well be discussing what to have for lunch.

  “Do you have a watch?”

  She looks around in a half-assed manner and shrugs again. “I don’t know where it is. I figured we’d count. I forgot to ask Glory for hers.”