Rules for Moving (ARC)

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Rules for Moving (ARC) Page 40

by Nancy Star


  frown. She wasn’t sure her mother knew she’d done that

  either, but now that Henry pointed it out, she quickly

  put several of the little pieces in her mouth. She offered the last piece of the frown to Henry and he ate it.

  “Henry dear,” she said after he swallowed. “Would you

  mind terribly if I didn’t come to your camp party today?

  They need me at the memory center. They’re having a

  party too. And they’re short-staffed. If you mind terribly, I’ll come of course. ”

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  Henry looked at his mother for help. Even if he could

  speak, her mother’s question was full of potholes. Should

  he mind if she couldn’t come? What did it mean to mind

  terribly? He looked sad. He looked like he wanted his

  grandmother to be at his camp celebration.

  “Please come,” Lane said. “Henry’s been working on

  a surprise for us. You don’t want to miss that, do you?”

  Sylvie thought about and said, “No. I don’t. You win.”

  “Yay,” Lane said. “I win.”

   h h

   h  h

  Family and guests were invited to come at eleven. At

  a quarter to, Lane and Sylvie started down the path to

  the Rec.

  Her mother seemed nearly electric, humming as she

  walked, arms skittering about as if she were having an

  extended and agitated conversation with herself in her

  head. A year ago, a month ago, a week ago, Lane might

  have ignored this. But she had grown so weary of ignor-

  ing things. She stopped walking. “I can see you’re upset.”

  Her mother looked startled. “Not at all.”

  Lane ignored the denial. “It’s understandable. If I had

  my way? There would never be another eclipse of the

  sun. There would never be any more eclipses of any kind.

  But I don’t get to choose what happens in the galaxy and

  neither do you. All we get to choose is what we do in our

  family. And I don’t think we’ve been choosing very well.”

  “Don’t do this now. Not today.”

  “I agree. Not today. Today is supposed to be a happy

  day for Henry. It’s his big end-of-camp celebration. Let’s try and enjoy it, for him. And tomorrow, we can talk.”

  Her mother’s eyes held a question. “About everything.”

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  Sylvie started walking.

  “Just pretend,” Lane called to the back of her mother’s

  head. “Pretend to enjoy Henry’s surprise. Pretend for once it’s a regular day.” The back of her mother’s head nodded

  briskly. Of course her mother could do that. She was an

  excellent pretender.

   h h

   h  h

  As Lane expected, Sylvie had no problem pretend-

  ing it was a regular day. During the short play about

  the hunt for the Gemini constellation, she leaned over

  and told Lane she thought the children had done an

  excellent job of learning their lines. During the song

  and piano recital, she ignored the lyrics about the sun

  and the moon and complimented the melody. As they

  walked past the paper-plate mobiles, she appeared oblivi-

  ous that the plates were in simulated orbit and instead

  admired the thick brushstrokes that decorated them. As

  for the pinhole boxes on display, she kept her distance

  from those.

  Henry seemed very proud, as if he’d had something to

  do with every part of it. And maybe he had. It was only

  when he took Lane’s hand to lead her and his grandmother

  to the back room where his mural was waiting, that she

  felt his grip tighten and his mood shift.

  “You okay, buddy?” she asked him.

  He nodded and stopped. Lane turned toward the

  mural and read the title displayed above it, on the wall:

  The Oh Henry Galaxy.

  She recognized some elements right away: the Earth,

  the Sun, the planets. It took her a moment to recognize the constellations. Henry had invented them all. So creative,

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  she thought and the next thought surprised her; it was

  exactly what his father would have done.

  Henry took her hand and led her to the legend that

  was posted on the wall, next to the mural. She could feel

  him studying her face as she read it aloud.

  • Constellation Number 1: Aaron the Hunter

  • Constellation Number 2: Aaron the Eagle

  • Constellation Number 3: Aaron Major

  • Constellation Number 4: Aaron Minor

  • Constellation Number 5: Hank Aaron the Big Dipper

  • Constellation Number 6: Nathan the Winged Horse

  Henry was still watching her when she felt a hand

  on her back. A firm hand, thin fingers, gentle pressure.

  Her mother’s hand gently pushing her. Prompting her.

  Lane understood.

  “Oh Henry,” she said. “This is spectacular.”

  “Take a picture,” Sylvie urged her. “You should send

  it to a magazine. You should send it to the Guild. They

  should do a story about Henry and his galaxy. Such an

  imagination.”

  Henry beamed and let out a long breath; it made

  Lane’s eyes fill to realize he’d been worried about her

  reaction to his mural.

   h h

   h  h

  As for the actual eclipse itself, Dylan announced to the

  visitors partway through the celebration that the view on

  the Island was going to be a C-minus at best.

  “More like a D,” he admitted a few minutes later. And

  then finally, “It’s an F. But don’t feel bad. I have a great 397

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  solution.” He proceeded to invite everyone to join him

  in a viewing party via video chat, with his dad. “He’s in

  Nashville. He’s been racing all over the place trying to

  find the best spot to view the path of totality. It’s going to be epic.”

  Sylvie, Lane and Henry opted to make origami cranes

  instead. Lane was helping her mother fix the folds in her

  paper when she heard Dylan grumbling about how the

  spotty cell service in the Rec was totally ruining his day.

  The crowd around him dispersed.

  Some people moved to listen to a talk about eclips-

  es and the sea, by a mom who was a scientist. Some

  went to participate in an eclipse poetry slam, run by a

  dad who was poet. Lane, Sylvie and Henry continued

  to work on their cranes. They had just finished when

  Nathan arrived.

  “No way in the universe I was going to miss this,” he

  told Henry. He followed them to the back room, to see

  Henry’s mural. “Wow. That is the most amazing painting

  I’ve seen in my life. And I’ve lived a long time and seen

  a lot of paintings.”

  When Henry walked him over to the legend on the

  wall and pointed to the Nathan constellation, Nathan

  bowed and in his best Good-Guy Knight of the Round

  Table voice announced, “I am honored and forever in your service, my talented liege.”

  Henry smiled and in a very quiet, clear voice said,

  “Thank you.”

  Lane grabbed him in a tight hug and immediately

 
excused herself to hurry out of the room before Henry

  could see that she was weeping.

   h h

   h  h

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  They were walking home, Lane and Nathan ahead, Henry

  and Sylvie lagging behind, when Nathan asked Lane if

  they could have dinner.

  “Of course,” Lane said. “We were talking about getting

  lobster.” She noticed his reaction. “You meant just me?”

  Embarrassed, Nathan nodded. “Is it a terrible idea?

  I thought maybe Sylvie or Amanda could watch Henry.

  Forget it. You’re right. It’s the worst idea I’ve ever had.

  I take it back.”

  “It’s not the worst idea,” she told him. “It’s just, I’m

  not sure my mom is up to watching Henry. Not today.

  And it would probably make her feel awkward having

  a babysitter around. And the lobsters were to celebrate

  Henry’s mural.” She didn’t notice that while she was run-

  ning through her list of reasons to decline, Henry and

  Sylvie had caught up and were listening too.

  “Why don’t you pick us up some lobsters and then

  go out?” Sylvie suggested. “Henry and I can have our-

  selves a lobster dinner party on the deck. What do you

  say, Henry?”

  Henry gave her two thumbs up. He turned to his

  mom and waited. It was her call.

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  “Nathan!” The greeter at the restaurant gave Nathan a

  hug. “So great to have you back.”

  “Great to be back.” As soon as they were seated and

  alone, at the last available table on the porch, Nathan

  apologized. “Sorry I didn’t introduce you. I have no idea

  who that was. I have no idea how he could remember me

  after all these years. It’s like we’re two different species.”

  “Maybe he’s just a fan,” Lane said.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t have a lot of fans.”

  “Why do you say that?” Her question surprised him.

  She understood why. While they had never discussed it,

  there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them

  that the less shared the better. But it wasn’t working for her anymore.

  “If it were just me,” she told Nathan now, “if it was

  just us, trying to figure out whether or not we’re going to be friends, or something else…” She saw his face brighten.

  He hadn’t expected this. “It would be different. But it’s not just us.” She looked out at the pond where storm clouds

  were gathering. “It’s you and me and Henry.”

  “He’s mad I showed you the pictures. I’m not surprised.

  I figured that was—”

  She cut him off. “It’s not about that.”

  “Okay.” Nathan looked confused. He waited.

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  “Henry adores you. And for good reason. You’re so

  patient with him and encouraging. But when I hear you

  say things like you don’t have a lot of fans, a warning

  bell goes off.”

  “Have we decided?” The server took their orders

  and then opened the café umbrella that stood beside

  their table. “Precautionary,” she told them. “Storm isn’t

  supposed to hit until after midnight. But you know how

  predictions are.”

  Lane looked out at the bifurcated sky. Above was a

  high canopy of clouds, below was the setting sun. Gulls

  swooped out of the light and then disappeared into dark-

  ness. Across the lagoon, the houses were bathed in a

  golden glow.

  “Just so you know,” the server said, “if you have to

  make a run for it, no problem. I’m the fastest to-go bag-

  ger on the Island.” She moved on to put up the umbrella

  at the next table.

  “Henry deserves better,” Nathan said. “You’re right.

  He deserves the best, which he’s got, with you. I’m not

  in that league. I shouldn’t have imposed on your night.”

  “You’re doing it again.” Lane stared at the pond and

  tried to sort out her feelings. The Nathan she knew was

  kind and sweet. But she’d met people who were wary

  of him. And he seemed wary of himself. “Why?” She

  hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “What don’t I know

  about you?”

  “Hmm.” Nathan thought about it. “There’s a list. You

  want it all?” She nodded. “Okay. First off, I’m not going

  to lie. Henry reminds me of Leo. When I’m with him,

  it’s like I’m time traveling back to when Leo was a kid.

  Except with Henry, I get to do things different. I get to

  be better than I was the first time round.”

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  “I’m sure you’re a great dad.”

  “No. Okay was as good as I got. Now I’m not much

  of a dad at all. So there’s that.”

  “See? You’re doing it again. You drop a hint. You

  change the subject.” As soon as she said it she realized,

  he wasn’t the only one. Her mother did it. Her sister did

  it. She did it.

  But Nathan didn’t know about any of that. “Sorry,” he

  said. “Habit.” He rubbed his forehead. “Here’s what you

  don’t know. I fail everyone I love. I failed my ex-wife. I failed my son. I can’t recognize the faces of my friends,

  not to mention the guy who showed us to our table. I’ve

  lost count of all the people who’ve lost patience with me.

  Your old neighbors, Rory, Karin—that bunch. They all

  think I’m the rudest person in the world. Except for Dana.

  She never got insulted. I don’t know why.”

  “Because Dana could talk to a statue.” Lane smiled.

  Nathan struck a pose. The Thinker. Lane got serious.

  “What happened with your son?”

  “Nothing you haven’t heard before. Collateral dam-

  age from the marriage. I was absent. I had a big job. I

  was a banker. Which is not an excuse. It’s just I was out

  of town more than I was home. But even when I was

  home, I wasn’t there. The only place I was ever present

  was right here. On this island. For two measly weeks in

  August. Leo’s friend Artie would come with us too. The

  three of us—me, Leo and Artie—we had some great ad-

  ventures. Artie didn’t have a dad and he drove his mom

  crazy playing video games all day long so she loved it

  when he came with us. I got him out of the house and

  into the water. Swimming. Fishing. Clamming. He had

  the last laugh, Artie did.”

  “How so?”

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  “Right out of college he started a gaming company.

  He’s my boss. The one who hired me to play his evil

  voices.” He smiled. “Life can be strange.” Lane nodded.

  “Leo and Artie’s favorite thing? We’d go to Cuttyhunk. I’d charter a boat. Bring sleeping bags. We’d sleep under the

  pitch-black sky. Just us and a million stars. We had great times here. For two weeks. Two out of fifty-two. Back

  home, I’d take off again. Always on the move. Going, go-

  ing, gone. It was inevitable. I had no right to be surprised when Ruth gave me the ultimatum: join the family or

  leave. I told h
er it didn’t work like that. I didn’t have a job where I got to choose where I went or for how long. She

  said, Get a new job. I didn’t know how to be the person she wanted me to be. Second time she gave me an ultimatum,

  stay or go, I left.” He met Lane’s eyes. “Moved into the

  house where you ended up with Henry. Decided—this

  was completely delusional—it was for the best. That I

  wasn’t meant to be a full-time dad. That I would be the

  best part-time dad there ever was.” He laughed. “You

  probably never heard anything as dumb as that.”

  “I’ve heard everything,” she reminded him.

  He nodded. “Then you won’t be surprised to hear that

  Leo didn’t agree with my assessment. He wanted nothing

  to do with a part-time dad. Ruth called and told me. She

  said, Leo doesn’t want to see you anymore. I tried to get him to change his mind. I quit my job. Got a new job, fewer

  hours, no travel. Called Ruth. Told her I changed. She

  said‚ Sorry. Too late. Neither of them wanted anything to do with me. Ruth remarried, not long after that. Leo

  calls her husband Dad.”

  The server put down a plate in front of Lane. “Swordfish

  for you.” She put the other plate in front of Nathan. “And the lamb. Enjoy.”

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  “Here’s the thing,” Nathan said, when the server was

  gone. “Artie—the kid I used to take fishing, the kid who’s now my boss—he told me Leo asked about me the other

  day. Out of nowhere. Asked how I was doing. I asked

  him to give Leo a message, to tell him I would meet him

  anywhere, call him anytime, do anything it takes to make

  things right. Artie sent him a text.” Nathan shook his

  head. “No response. Crickets.” He shrugged. “My son

  is not interested in forgiving me. Maybe some things are

  beyond forgiveness. What do you think?”

  “Are you asking me or are you asking Roxie?”

  Nathan looked surprised. “Same thing, no?”

  Now it was Lane’s turn to be surprised. “Most people

  say I’m nothing like Roxie.”

  He shrugged. “You seem the same to me.” He looked

  out at the gathering clouds. “Before I met you, I thought I had come to terms with my life being what it is. Treading

  water. Trying to do no harm. Doing a dot of good a day.”

  “Three good things,” Lane said, remembering what

  he told her.

  Nathan nodded and then laughed. “Put that way,

  it sounds kind of selfish. Doing good things so I’ll feel

  better. See? I don’t deserve forgiveness. Henry deserves

 

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