Separate Like Stars

by Diana Kane

  “Cemeteries,” I cut him off to issue the correction.

  “Potato, potahto. Anyway,” he begins again with a warning glare, “Ryan likes to tell me a story or a little piece of life wisdom she shared whenever we pay our respects. This time he made me look at her headstone and told me to read the date. When I did, he pointed out that on every headstone in that cemetery there are two dates separated by a dash. That dash represents your life and that when you look at your life, you really need to evaluate how many dash worthy moments you’ve had. So I thought about it. Mine would definitely include graduating from college, meeting Ryan, marrying Ryan, meeting your mom and gaining a surrogate daughter…you know the important stuff. Do you follow?” he asks as I take a moment to consider mine.

  “Yeah. I mean getting into and graduating from Northwestern, being published, hitting number one on the best sellers list, my first book to movie contract…I think I’d include all of those.”

  “But would you count Olivia as a dash? Because honey, those achievements are definitely nice and deserve to be dashes, but is that what you want all of your dashes to be?”

  “I guess I would have to. She was my first love. She helped me realize that I’m gay and was part of my coming out.”

  “And now?” he asks as his eyes search mine for the answer. “You don’t have to answer that,” he says before going quiet. “Trust is something that takes time to build, seconds to destroy and a lifetime to repair,” he continues after a pregnant pause. “I know you’re scared and that you’re probably searching for some reassurance that she won’t hurt you again, but sugar, sometimes you have to set that fear aside and trust that whatever it is will work. No matter what happens, you’re strong enough to survive,” he concludes as he slings an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side.

  “Thanks,” I whisper as everything he just said whirls around in my head.

  “Anytime. A fairy tale would be nice, but it’s just not real. I almost didn’t take Ryan back after he broke my heart,” he confesses, jarring me out of my thoughts.

  “What? Uncle Ryan broke your heart?”

  “He did. Ryan wasn’t out when I met him. Hell, I don’t even think he was ready to admit that he was gay to himself, let alone anyone else. You know that no one has ever been capable of dulling my shine, and my living out loud wasn’t something Ryan always wanted to be a part of. The first time he kissed me was after he blew off a study session we had arranged. I woke up in the middle of the night to that drunk jerk banging on my door. I hadn’t planned on letting him in but when I opened the door he practically launched himself at me, and I was powerless to resist,” he embellishes with a sly smirk on his face causing me to laugh. Uncle Eddie has the strength and height that would keep him from being powerless against most people, much less Uncle Ryan who is at least half a foot shorter and a good 50 pounds lighter. “I fell hard and fast for that boy, even though I knew we were living our lives on different frequencies. We made it work for a while, but having two separate and distinct halves of your life that can never overlap is a lot to ask. So I started putting pressure on him to come to my drag shows, go to the gay club with me, even admit to someone other than me that he was gay. In retrospect I know it was a terrible idea, but it felt right at the time. Ryan said that he wouldn’t, and he left me. I’d see him around campus and in a few of our classes, but I’d always put on a happy face even though he broke my heart when he left. It took a lot of work and a massive leap of faith to open myself up to the idea of a relationship with him again, but I think it’s turned out pretty good so far.”

  “I had no idea,” I murmur before sipping my wine.

  “It’s ancient history, why would you?”

  “You weren’t scared that he’d leave you again?”

  “Terrified. When someone hurts you, it takes effort and time to feel like you’ve taken your power back from them. Giving them the ability to do it a second time is positively frightening. You just have to decide if the risk is worth it.”

  “I know I do,” I manage before sighing. “I also need to tell her about the story I’ve been working on.”

  “Story?” he asks with raised brows.

  “Yeah. It started as a journal slash diary back when she left me all those years ago. I ignored its existence for years, but started adapting it when she came back.”

  “She doesn’t know, does she?”

  “She has no idea. I’m not saying that I intend to submit it to my publisher, but it’s the only thing I’ve been able to focus on lately. I feel like she should know about it, that it shouldn’t be this secret I’m keeping from her.”

  “Why haven’t you told her about it, if that’s how you feel?”

  “Honestly?” I ask, earning a look from Uncle Eddie that screams ‘child, please’. “Have you ever felt like you were riding in a shopping cart that’s barreling down a steep hill while on fire?” Uncle Eddie nods as he impatiently waits for me to get to the point. “Well, we hooked up. She thought it meant one thing. I thought it was something else. We didn’t talk again until after mom’s surgery. We agreed to start dating, only we didn’t have the foresight to realize that we’d be outed after our second date. The whole media circus, Olivia hurting her hand, planning a trip to Chicago this weekend so that Gavin and Kira can go public,” I explain as I shake my head. “She knows I’m working on something. I’m just worried that it’ll all be too much for her, you know?”

  “Things will calm down. They always do,” he assures me with another squeeze. “What I think you need to remember is that Olivia is more resilient than you seem to be giving her credit for. I don’t think she’ll react as badly as you think she will. Just tell her what you’ve told me, I’m sure she’ll understand,” he assures me as he tightens his grip around my shoulder again.

  “I hope you’re right,” I confess before draining my wineglass. “It might already be too late for me if you’re wrong.”

  “Baby girl, I’m always right,” he informs me. “I was right about Ryan, and I’m right about—,” he begins but stops when the sound of the door opening alerts us that we’re no longer alone.

  “Uncle Ryan wanted me to let you know dinner will be ready in five,” Olivia slowly informs us as her eyes bounce between Uncle Eddie and me, her brow creased in concern.

  “Come on,” Uncle Eddie orders with a nudge. “Ryan will have a fit if he has to drag our asses to the table. You need more wine, anyway.”

  “I shouldn’t,” I argue as I search Olivia’s expression, noting her lingering concern. “Did you save dinner?” I ask before giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

  “There was never any danger it wouldn’t turn out. I’m not sure what possessed him to try his hand at Boeuf Bourguignon, but he was doing fine,” she shares with a cautious smile. “Everything okay?” she asks as she leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek.

  “Yeah,” I answer as Uncle Eddie slips past us and into the house. “Hang on,” I stop Olivia by taking her hand, Olivia smiling as she complies with my order. “I, uh…I haven’t really had any alcohol since we got back together,” I begin as I stub the toe of my shoe on the patio.

  “I’ve told you I don’t have a problem if you drink.”

  “I know, it’s just…what if I want to kiss you? I don’t know how that works—,” I begin, but a firm press of Olivia’s lips cuts me off as her fingertips caress the side of my neck.

  “I’m not in any danger. I’m not interested in kissing you when you’re drunk, but after a drink or two isn’t a big deal. I’m not forcing you into sobriety. So just kiss me, if you want to kiss me,” she challenges as her lips hover half an inch from mine. I move to kiss her, but she backs away as she tightens her grip on my hand, knowing I’m powerless to use my other one due to the wineglass dangling between my fingers.

  “So that’s how you wanna play it?” I ask as Uncle Eddie clears his throat from just inside the door.

  “Please get in here before Ryan loses his shit
,” he pleads once we’ve both turned our attention to him.

  “To be continued,” I whisper as Uncle Eddie impatiently watches us.

  “Oh, I hope so,” Olivia retorts before darting in to steal a quick kiss.

  Chapter 36

  “You’re quiet again tonight,” Olivia observes as we lay on a blanket in my backyard, the full moon doing nothing to diminish our view of the stars.

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to be,” I assure her as I snuggle in a little closer.

  “No need to apologize,” she says before kissing my forehead. “You could have continued writing if you were on a roll. I didn’t mean to interrupt when I stopped by.”

  “You didn’t interrupt. I lost my steam shortly before you arrived. I was only delaying the inevitable.”

  “You must be near the finish line,” she observes.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You always grew a bit distanced from the rest of the world when you were close to completing a story. You were quiet at Uncle Eddie and Uncle Ryan’s, a bit distracted in Chicago, and you’re quiet tonight. Has that changed?”

  “I guess it hasn’t,” I admit with a laugh. “Knowing how to end it is always the most challenging part,” I confess.

  “You’re still talking about writing, aren’t you?” she asks in a trepidatious tone.

  “I’m still talking about writing,” I assure her as I shift myself enough so I can roll over and straddle her hips. I spot the moonlight reflecting off of her teeth and the smile that reaches up and fills her eyes as her hands possessively grip my hips, and I lower my lips to hers. Every fiber of my being screams to be with her, all except the one that manages to yell that I can’t until I tell her about the project I’ve been working on. But how do I tell her, without it seeming like something born of ill intent or malice? I’m momentarily pulled from my thoughts by the sensation of Olivia’s tongue against mine and her hands caressing the skin under my shirt. I know I need to stop this, but damn it feels so right.

  “Going somewhere?” she asks after I let the kiss run its course and pull back slightly. I smile down at her before attempting to roll back to my position at her side. Whether I broadcasted the move or she simply went with the motion, Olivia rolls with me and ends up grinning as her eyes devour me.

  “Nope,” I answer as she lowers herself to me, commencing another passion filled kiss that threatens to undo what little restraint I have left.

  “I’m still trying to follow your lead here,” she says after ending the kiss, leaving me breathless.

  “I know you are. Soon, I promise.” Her disappointment is noticeable, despite the curtain of dark hair and lack of light reaching her eyes. Better she’s disappointed now then after things have gone too far, I remind myself. Because it is better this way, even if my body objects. I’m also beginning to realize that I might not ever have an ending for the project and may have to share with Olivia what I have thus far.

  “Do you want me to go?” she asks as she returns to her previous position on her back.

  “Only if you want to. You can tell me about the stars if you’d like.”

  “Which ones?”

  “Any of them. What about those? The two that look like they’re part of a snowman,” I indicate with my finger.

  “Those are probably double stars,” she says after following my finger.

  “I don’t think I realized stars connected like that.”

  “It’s an optical illusion. They may appear to share space, but there is no physical connection. Those over there are likely binary stars,” she says as she points her finger at another pair east of the previous duo. “See that faint line that appears to connect them? If they’re a true binary pair, they share a center that they orbit, doomed to forever be apart.”

  “You’re making it all sound kind of bleak.”

  “It’s just science. The stars that we see now may have fizzled out long ago. Of course, gravity can also intervene to pull two stars together, in which case the reaction depends on the type of stars involved, their mass, temperature, and a number of other factors.”

  “What else?” I ask after she remains quiet for a minute.

  “Well, there’s the centaur,” she says as she takes my finger and traces a pattern that doesn’t make me think of a centaur at all. “That’s the fly,” she says as she repeats her previous act. “Virgo should be over there…ah,” she says as she directs my finger to a new grouping.

  “So the fly looks like a kite, Virgo looks like a stick figure, and I have no idea what the centaur resembles,” I observe as she allows our joined hands to fall back onto her thigh. Her laughter fills the quiet night as her body shakes from her effort.

  “You still can’t see a pattern in any of those ink blot things, can you?”

  “I can’t see a pattern because there isn’t anything there,” I defend myself.

  “That’s true; there isn’t a definitive image in them. At least we know that it doesn’t mean that you’re crazy or anything.”

  “I don’t know about all of that, but I can live with not being creative enough to see something that isn’t there. Actually, that might prove that I’m saner than those who definitively argue that they see something,” I point out.

  “Very true,” Olivia agrees before giving me a quick kiss. “I’m crazy about you,” she shares, her flirty smile back in place.

  “As I am about you,” I admit. “Do you want to stay tonight?”

  “That depends. Are you planning on sleeping tonight, or will you abandon me to continue writing? The Jordan I remember didn’t sleep much when she was nearing the end of a tale.”

  “Honestly, I’ll probably grab a nap and get back to it.” It’s what I have to do if I’m going to share the project with Olivia, which has become a necessity. I can’t keep dragging her along, delaying something that often feels inevitable, but might not be given she doesn’t have all the information.

  “Then I’ll go home and spend some time with Lexa. I’ve kinda been missing in action the last few days. The beast probably misses me.”

  “I’ll bet she does. I’ll miss you though.”

  “Now you’re not playing fair,” she observes, sticking out her lower lip and attempting to make it quiver as if she’s about to cry.

  “You really can’t pull that move off,” I observe with a giggle, before sticking out my lower lip and working it like a pro.

  “I’ll never know how you do that,” she says as she shakes her head. “I forgot how much of a handful you can be,” she humorously adds.

  “Funny, I thought you liked my handfuls,” I fire back.

  “I adore them,” she assures me as she sits up, “but not tonight. I need to go spend time with the pup, and you have a story to finish.”

  “Have it your way,” I pout as I get to my feet with her. “Are you working early or late tomorrow?”

  “Early. I have my NA meeting in the afternoon and my evening class as well. I’ll call you between things or try to stop by after class.”

  “Sounds good,” I manage as Olivia pulls me into her arms.

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she says after giving me a knee-weakening kiss. “Good luck tonight,” she says before pressing her lips to my forehead and turning for home.

  “I’m gonna need something more than luck,” I whisper as I watch her walk away.

  Chapter 37

  Olivia,

  If you’re still reading this…well, I have no idea what must be going through your mind right now. Maybe you’ll find the contents unforgivable and decide that there is no future for us. Perhaps you’ll find it flattering that I weaved you into yet another tale. Please know that this is the story that has had my mind preoccupied as of late. One that started as a journal so many years ago, and was resuscitated when you returned to Jupiter Falls. I’m not sure it’s one for anyone else’s eyes, and I certainly have no plans to submit it to my publisher, but she commands my attention and demands to be written, only
to run off at the most inconvenient times. She refuses to tell me where to take her, or what her ending might be. A damn tease is what she is.

  A tease…which might be how you feel about me right now. Please know it was never my intent to seem so indecisive for so long, but this is the final piece that I felt you needed to know about before things went too far. It might already be too late for me, as I’ve come to the realization that every smile, every laugh, every song we (badly) sing along to…all of it reminds me that I loved you in another time and I love you today.

  I can put the words here that try to explain how I feel when I’m with you, but they’ll all fall short. I feel like I’m at home when we’re together, safe with the woman I’m meant to spend my life with. When you look at me with any one of your numerous smiles…I can’t describe how easily I read each of them, or how each one sends a different sensation surging through my system. Even the simplest touch from you elicits the feeling that you’re unraveling me, stripping me to the very core of who I am, laying me bare. And when you do…the love that radiates from you feels like nourishment that I could sustain myself on for the rest of my days. Yes, I’ve loved other women, but not one of them with the depth of emotion that I love you.