Love Me Love Me Knot

by Deb Lee

  “No, never,” she said. “You used to tell me about them when we stargazed, but that was as close to the night sky as I ever came.”

  Ryan grimaced. He had never taken her to see his telescope because it was at Tia’s, still was. Back then, he wasn’t ready to reclaim something that triggered such a difficult memory. But now it was time. He wanted to show her the star that bore her name, Sophie’s Sapphire. “Would you like to now? See the stars?” See your star.

  Sophie studied him for a moment, then answered with a tantalizing smile. Ryan took that to mean ‘yes’ and gently laced his fingers through hers and led her to the center telescope.

  This telescope, though a newer model, was the same enormous reflector telescope his father bought him as a kid.

  He positioned Sophie directly behind it and rested his hands on her arms. Hundreds of goose bumps edged against his palms, and Ryan couldn’t help but smile. Was it his touch, or, “Cold?”

  “Not really.”

  “Hmm.” That gave him immense satisfaction. “You want to see what’s behind door number one?”

  Her eyes widened slightly. “Only if you want to show me.”

  The tease in her voice quickened his already racing heart and he forced a dry swallow. Okay then. Here goes nothing. Dropping his hands, he slowly reached around her and carefully led her hand onto the massive apparatus. Being a reflective telescope, it had an eight-inch aperture, allowing enough light to see clusters of stars that a plain refractor telescope could only dream of seeing. Using this piece of equipment demanded respect for the universe and its unconceivable power.

  Sophie gasped in awe. “Do you know how to work it?”

  A smile tugged at his mouth. “I do. I had one very similar to this,” he said, placing her hands in the correct position.

  “You had one? What happened to it?”

  “I still technically own it. But it’s at a friend’s house.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  Her question couldn’t be answered without delving into the full story. But he shoved it so deep into the no man’s land part of his mind that it seemed like a bad dream.

  So, he decided on the abridged, safe version. “For safe keeping. It was my twelfth birthday present and after I went to college I stored a lot of my belongings with a family friend.”

  “You got a this for your twelfth birthday?”

  Ryan lifted a shoulder. “Well, yeah.”

  Sophie shook her head. “All I got was a set of R.L. Stein books and a Lite Brite set.”

  Ryan laughed. “Lite Brite, huh?” He ran his fingers along the optical tube, familiarizing himself with it, until he reached the aperture. Though he didn’t appreciate his gift as a child, he did now. “Well,” Ryan said, gripping the telescope by its stand, “what you don’t know is my present came with a consolation gift.”

  He reached over Sophie. Her flowery perfume all but consumed him as he carefully directed the scope toward the dark sky. Billions of stars stared back at them—beautiful now as the first time he saw them.

  He withdrew a cloth from a bag hanging on the tripod and cleaned the lenses, adding the correct filters in place. He assumed when the observatory was open, crewmembers assisted with this part. Once finished, he went to work on finding a reference point. He knew the night sky very well. That was one assurance he could count on; the sky would barely change throughout his lifetime. He pointed the scope toward the moon and then directed it to his left.

  Sophie stood in front of him, cradled between his arms. He could hear her steady breathing and he changed his breaths to match hers. Her creamy skin was just a touch away and he had to hold himself back from moving his hand to caress her neck.

  “What do you mean by consolation gift?” Sophie whispered.

  Ryan looked in the finder scope and answered. “It also came with a crap load of guilt, wrapped up with a pretty little bow.” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh.

  Sophie’s brows creased, and he sighed.

  “Let’s just say Dad had a plan for me. He gave me my telescope and together we designed and polished the mirror to give it more edge. I loved it for the first few months, but then my interests waned. And Dad’s plans for me didn’t exactly include what I wanted. Of course who knows what they want at twelve years old?”

  “It’s okay,” Sophie said, reaching for Ryan’s forearm. “You don’t have to talk about it, but if you want to, I’m a good listener.”

  Ryan stopped messing with the telescope. He allowed himself a long look at Sophie, and knew he’d once asked her about her family but never shared his. He’d felt if he kept his life private, the parts that hurt the most wouldn’t. But maybe that’s what chased her away. He had asked her to be open and honest with him, but had he ever returned the favor? Ryan sunk to the floor, this time Sophie met him there.

  “Winter solstice,” Ryan said.

  Sophie’s kind eyes were soft “I’m not sure I follow,” she whispered.

  “Every winter solstice, Dad and I dressed in our warmest pajamas, sipped on hot cocoa with nine marshmallows each, one for each planet . . . we still included Pluto, and watched as the shortest day of the year came to an end. It used to be fun in a believing-in-Santa Claus sort of way. We watched the sky change from fall to winter while my junk froze like a snowball. Eventually it was as amazing as watching paint dry.”

  “Sounds like, um, fun. I guess.”

  Ryan smiled. “It was for a while. At six years old, I was a proud, card carrying, bona fide junior astronomer. I think I still have my membership card somewhere.” His chest gripped again and he licked his incredibly dry lips.

  He subtly glanced at Sophie, who looked straight ahead, carefully listening. He stared ahead, too, catching the refraction from the moonlight that danced against the furthest wall. Then he told her something he’d never told anyone since that night. He told her his story.

  “I told you before that my sister Nicole was an art prodigy. Dad couldn’t be more proud. He had two kids on either end of the talent spectrum. Nicole was his artist. She could paint a canvas that would make the Mona Lisa cry. And then he had me. I happened to test at a genius level since third grade and was enrolled in the GATE program for the nerds.

  “But school was a means to an end for me. I knew that about myself as soon I was old enough to walk to the liquor store on the corner and find my escape in Sports Now. I mean,” he said on a laugh, “the annual swimsuit edition was where I lost my innocence, but I ate up the articles.”

  “Swimsuit edition, huh?” Sophie scrutinized Ryan with a playful tone.

  “Don’t judge. I was like eleven or twelve.”

  Sophie laughed. “Boys.”

  Ryan couldn’t help how much she captivated him. She deserved to know everything. For now, though, she’d have to settle with knowing about the night his dad disowned him. Ryan squeezed Sophie’s hand and continued. “When I was fourteen, Nicole was eighteen and studying abroad. She and I resurrected the lost art of writing each other letters, and I made the monumental mistake of keeping them.” Ryan paused, the tightness in his chest welled up to a knot just below his throat. “I was an ass to my dad. I was mad that he kept pressing the astronomy program, and I just wanted to do my own thing.”

  Sophie looked at Ryan with an understanding gentleness he didn’t feel he deserved. “You were a kid, Ryan. No matter what you thought, he can’t be mad that you disagreed with him.”

  Ryan’s hand began to sweat and he shook from her grip. He stared at the telescope. “No, that’s not it. We exchanged inside jokes about how astronomy was a dreamer’s paradise and a waste of time. So much so, even NASA was being defunded. My real dream was following sports. All the sports. I loved everything about athletes, and I wanted to tell their stories and follow their careers the way my dad wanted me to follow his.
”

  Ryan peered out the observation window. The stars where so peaceful, he felt more relaxed than he had in years. He recalled his mother’s soft demeanor, knowing Ryan was not cut from the same cloth as Dad. “Mom knew me better. She always placed the sports section of the daily newspaper under the Time magazine at the breakfast table with my bowl of Wheaties. It always had to be Wheaties because that’s what the athletes on the cover of the box ate. Mom never uttered a word against Dad’s wishes for me, but it was our unspoken language.”

  Ryan dragged in a long, ragged breath. He recalled that night as if it happened just yesterday. Ryan swallowed a lump remembering his mother’s cries. But his dad pushed him too far that night.

  Sophie set her hand on his thigh. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it.”

  Ryan nodded but he needed to tell Sophie. “Eventually, the lying caught up. Nicole and I continued to exchange letters. We wrote about the Eiffel Tower, the Dodger’s crap season, and how Americans have it all wrong when they say New York is the greatest city in the world. And how I had been making a fool of Dad, having every intention of attending a small, private college for journalism, our school.” He smirked. “So it was no surprise when that very lie not only caught up with me, but exploded.”

  Ryan explained the scene as it unfolded in his memory. How Dad stormed into the family room after returning home from the lab. He held the letters in his hand and asked if they were some sort of joke.

  “My mom pleaded for Dad to stop. His rage was like nothing I had ever seen. I felt something inside me snap.” Ryan’s voice hitched and Sophie squeezed his leg again. “Dad found the letters in the garage. I don’t even remember how it came to blows but I do recall my mother’s shrieking and begging Dad to stop. Only I didn’t know my own strength. I was angry, frustrated, and stupid. I threw the first and only punch. Having thrown back a twelve pack of Bud, he collapsed, crushing a wooden bar stool on his way down.”

  Ryan swallowed dryly. “Mom screamed but I was so angry I almost kicked him when he was down. Who does that?” Ryan shook his head. “I stood over Dad, willing him to get back up so I could knock him down again.”

  Sophie pressed her hand against his shoulder. “Ryan, it’s not your fault. He was drunk. You were scared. You were just a boy.”

  “He told me in no uncertain terms that he was done with me.”

  Sophie cupped Ryan’s face, her nose only inches from his. He could smell her sweet perfume, the heat in his chest morphing from anger to want, need.

  “So,” he sighed, drawing her into his arms, “Mom went to Dad’s side. I stood there seething. I couldn’t understand how she would stay with a man who chose an addiction over his family. That was the only time I ever thought of her as weak. I told her as much too. When I turned to leave she called my name. You know what she said to me after all that?”

  Sophie intertwined her fingers in his.

  Ryan squeezed. “She told me to be the best sports journalist ever. She told me to make a name for myself and my father would be prouder of me than she was at this moment.”

  “She loved you dearly, Ryan. You have to know that.”

  Ryan caressed Sophie’s cheek so she had to look at him. He wanted her to see that he was wrong. That it was his fault and he was to blame.

  Her eyes drifted from one to another and he gave her a rueful grin.

  “Some things are hard to accept. Like how a father can allow his career to turn him into a raging alcoholic. Or how cancer can suddenly come upon your mother and take her life within six months.”

  “Oh, Ryan. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m actually okay, but I wanted to tell you.”

  “I . . .” Sophie whispered. “I’m glad you did.”

  Ryan gave her an almost smile. “Tomorrow we arrive in Avalon. I have a very good friend there I want you to meet. Say you’ll come with me.”

  Sophie’s face paled. “I-I don’t know. I need to check on my girls, and I have my next article to research.” She inched back, and Ryan was afraid he asked too much of her. Maybe she was still apprehensive after everything that had happened today.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to.” Ryan couldn’t help it, he cupped her chin and stroked her cheek with his thumb. She was so beautiful. “You want to see something amazing?”

  Her eyes dropped to his lips and she opened her mouth to say something, but just a squeak came out. He’d take that as a yes. He helped her off the ground and directed her back in front of him. Taking her wrists in his hands, he said, “Be a puppet.”

  She swung around, eyes narrowed.

  He laughed. “Trust me.”

  Something like pain flashed through her eyes before she turned back to the telescope. What was that about? But her arms went limp in his hands. He shook them a few times to make sure she’d let him play puppet master. “Good, now place one here.” He gently set her right hand on the eyepiece, softly running his fingers up her arm.

  Gooseflesh rose beneath his fingertips. His inner man smiled. “The other one goes here.” He placed her left hand on the optical tube for balance. “Now close your left eye and look into this hole here. Use this little doo-hickey to adjust the focus.”

  “Doo-hickey?” He could hear the smile in her tone.

  “Would you prefer focuser? Because if I start talking terminology, there might be a quiz at the end.”

  Sophie looked at him and cocked a brow. “Oh? What happens if I fail?”

  “You’ll be sentenced to a date with me.”

  She smiled. “What happens if I pass?”

  “You’ll be rewarded kindly.”

  “Maybe I’ll just skip class and you won’t have to follow through on either.”

  Ryan grinned. “Easy now. There’s an extra penalty for cutting class.”

  A shooting star shot across the diamond-filled sky, and Ryan watched as Sophie’s wide eyes sparkled in the slight glow. “Don’t make threats you don’t intend to enforce,” she said, still watching the sky through the massive window.

  “I never do. Now stop stalling and look through the eyepiece.”

  Sophie dropped her head so her eye lined up perfectly. She adjusted the focuser slightly, which told Ryan her vision wasn’t as perfect as his.

  He waited a moment and then felt her go stiff. She gasped. “Ryan, is that what I think it is?”

  He couldn’t help the want that shot through him. “Sophie’s Sapphire. In the same place I left it ten years ago.”

  “It’s perfect. I don’t want to stop looking at it.”

  Ryan resisted the urge to stroke her back. He rested his hands on her shoulders instead. “Well, maybe I’ll have to get you one of these fancy devices so you can look at it whenever you want.”

  Sophie lifted her head and turned toward him. A smile played in her lips. He fought the urge to kiss it off her lips. He didn’t want to scare her away. “I still have the certificate you left for me.”

  The one he left on her porch. He homed in on the diamond-shaped dimples under her lips. He needed to kiss each one right now, just to remind her exactly how beautiful she was. Her skin glowed in the moonlight, providing just enough light to see her heartbeat pulsing through her neck. He wanted to kiss that, too. Resisting, he said, “We should go.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed. And Ryan wished she would’ve asked to stay. But being she didn’t, he missed his chance to try and talk to her. Talk about her café, and possible changes, and what the future could hold if she’d give him another chance.

  Details about exactly how things ended ten years ago were foggy. They could start fresh. He could take care of her. And her grandmoo. She just needed to trust him.

  “Thank you for showing me my star.” Sophie’s cheeks pinked sending shockwaves through him.

/>   “You’re quite welcome.”

  Watching her walk away, he struggled with the idea of letting her go. Away from the possible merge, and away from his life . . . again. He needed a drink. A big one.

  Chapter 21

  Six hours later—or was it only two—Ryan woke half dazed on a chaise lounge with a killer headache. He pushed himself into a sitting position and wiped the drool from his cheek. He’d been lying face down in a puddle of it like a teething toddler.

  A soft wind floated up from the sea, bringing with it the echo of squawking seagulls, tickling the hair on the nape of his neck. Waves sloshed a rhythmic melody against the boat.

  His tongue felt like sandpaper and begged for water. He patted around his unbelievably stiff body and felt a plastic water bottle. He’d caught the end of the luau and only meant to have one drink after Sophie left him reeling last night. But then he got to chatting with some people from the San Fran office, and that drink turned into a few more.

  An air horn blew, rattling Ryan’s brain. The ship must be docking in Catalina. Ryan had spent six summers on this tiny island. The silver lining in missing the first couple pennant games was visiting the woman who was like a sister to his mother and, in all the ways that counted, a second mother to him.

  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Ryan reached for his phone to read his schedule for the day.

  It was dead.

  Great.

  He knew he had training at eight and he owed Phil an update. Ryan worked his fingers into the rock-hard knot in his neck, which prevented him from looking left. Or right, come to think of it.

  “Rough night?” asked a middle-aged, pot-bellied man. He was wearing a too-tight Speedo with a towel tossed over his shoulder. He looked as greasy as the fattened pig roasting at the luau last night. His disheveled hair told Ryan that the man might have had a “what happens on International waters stays on International waters” sort of night.