Where the Stars Still Shine

He shakes his head. “I think God will understand that my daughter needs me more than he does.”

My mom’s room is the first on the left, and a nurse is checking her chart. My dad hangs in the doorway as I enter the room. Mom’s eyes are closed, but I can see the rise and fall of regular breathing, and a monitor beside her beeps softly along with her heartbeat.

“Mom?” I say it softly so I won’t startle her, and touch my fingers to hers. They’re warmer now and a tube stretches up from her hand to a bag of clear fluid. Her eyes open, and a tear escapes from the corner, trickling down toward her ear.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so, so sorry.”

I reach for a tissue and wipe away the trail the tear left behind. Another follows and I erase that one, too. There’s no strength in her grip as her fingers curl around mine, but I can feel the plea in them. I can see it in her eyes.

“Forgive me.”

Forgiveness has never been something I’ve had to consider. Never an option. I’ve always granted it because she is my mother, but the price I’ve paid for her choices has been high and I have a right to be angry. Except choosing anger, choosing blame, won’t bring back all that was lost. The only thing I can do is hold on to what I have right now, so that it can’t ever be lost again.

My fingers answer first, squeezing back gently, and I lean over to whisper in her ear.

Just one word.

“Always.”

She gives me a tiny, weary smile. “I need to talk to your dad for a minute, okay?”

Greg and I swap places. I’m leaning against the wall outside the room when Phoebe comes around the corner from the elevator. She’s wearing her dark-green Christmas dress and heels—and she’s crying. “Where’s Greg?”

“Phoebe?” His voice comes from Mom’s room and they reach each other just outside her door. “What happened?”

“My mom—” She crumples against him and his arms go around her, sheltering her. “She didn’t wake up this morning. She’s gone.”

Greg says soft words of comfort, words just for her, as she sobs into his chest. Watching makes me feel like an outsider, but I don’t know what to do. I want to be with my mom, but that feels selfish when Phoebe’s just lost hers.

“Where are the boys?” I ask.

“Alex dropped me off here, then took them home so they wouldn’t see her like that,” she says, her tissue fighting a losing battle against her tears. “It’s a blessing that she died peacefully in her sleep, instead of suffering the agony of being starved to death by her disease, but—I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“I’ll go home and stay with the boys so Alex can be with you and your dad,” I say. “Let me just say good-bye to my—” I stop abruptly, not wanting to remind her that my mom is alive.

“Oh, God, Callie.” Phoebe starts sobbing again. “I can’t take you away from your mother.”

“No, it’s okay,” I say. “She needs the rest. I can come back later.”

Mom lifts a tired hand as I enter her room, waving me off. “Your family needs you,” she says. I listen for sarcasm, for anger, but it’s not there. She just sounds drowsy, and she blinks slowly, fighting off sleep.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I say. “I promise.”





Alex is sitting on the top step of the back deck while Tucker and Joe wallow happily in the detritus of Christmas. They’ve unwrapped every gift, including the presents from Kat and the architecture book I bought for Greg. A blue Sesame Street monster chatters on the television as Tucker cracks open a black velvet jewelry box. Inside a pair of sapphire earrings sparkle blue. “Look, Joe! It’s pirate treasure!”

Taking the box from Tucker earns me a cry of protest. “Santa did not bring those for you.” I stash the earrings on the mantel above the fireplace, then gather all the unwrapped presents not intended for toddlers and discard the wrapping paper. Leaving the boys to play with proper Christmas toys, I go outside to Alex.

“I can stay with the boys if you need to go,” I say, lowering myself to the same step. My hands tremble with wanting to touch him.

“Not yet.” He shakes his head. “How’s your mom?”

“She, um—she’ll be all right. I mean, she’ll probably go to jail but …” But my mother is still alive. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Thanks.” His voice is hollow. Sad. And he leans forward, resting his folded arms on his knees. The gesture stings a little, as if I’m too close and he needs to get away, until I feel his fingertips whisper-soft on the back of my calf. I should offer words of consolation, but I don’t know what to say. Instead, we sit a long time without speaking. The rich blue of the bayou sparkles in the sunshine, and behind us, Tucker and Joe are oblivious to how much the world has changed overnight.

“There’s a job waiting for me at a dive shop in the Keys.” Alex breaks the silence first. “Now that my mom’s gone, there’s nothing keeping me here anymore.”

It hurts to be lumped together with the father who smacks him around and a sponging job he never wanted. To be considered nothing.

“Now you can take that dive trip to Roatan in February.” I hope the words sound light and excited, even though my heart is shattered and sharp. He turns to look at me, and those hazel eyes tell me I failed.

“Oh, shit. Callie, no.” He touches my face with both hands, his thumb catching a tear I never meant to cry, and my breath hitches in my throat. “I didn’t mean you. You’re not nothing. You’re the best kind of something.”

“Don’t go.” It’s selfish of me to ask this of him when he’s already sacrificed so much, but he’s mine and I want to keep him.

“Come with me.” His kiss is so gentle, so perfect, that it takes everything I have to keep from saying yes. I’ve never been in love before, but this moment is bittersweet and tender and terrible and perfect. Surely this must be it.

I want to go with him, but then I think about my dad and Phoebe. About my little brothers. Yiayoúla and Kat. My new job. My mom. I have so many more reasons to stay. I’m not ready to leave yet. “My family is here.”

“I know.” He touches his forehead to mine and sighs. “This sucks.”

A laugh escapes me. “Yeah.”

“So, what do we do?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But we can’t just let go. I won’t do that.”

Alex’s mouth relaxes into his easy grin and he kisses me again. “Then I guess we figure something out.”

Hope blooms on the surface of my sadness. It’s improbable that our relationship will survive the time and distance. Except improbable is not impossible. There are so many maybes in life, but sometimes you just have to put your faith in possibility.

We hold hands as we go back into the house, where Joe is crashed out on the floor and Tucker has used a chair to pull the “pirate treasure” down from the mantel. Alex and I exchange guilty smiles before he kisses my cheek and tells me he needs to go home. It feels like good-bye. I mean, I know I’ll see him again at Evgenia’s funeral, but this is it.

The end of us.

For now.





Chapter 24


Mom comes into the visitation area wearing a loose-fitting blue uniform that looks more like emergency-room scrubs than prison garb. Her hair is shorter than she’s ever worn it before and a shade of dark auburn I’ve only seen at the roots. Without her signature red lips, the bottom of her face seems unfinished. Un-her. She smiles when she sees me and I’m surprised by how much younger she looks. Rested. Maybe even a little bit … happy.

“There’s my girl,” she whispers into my hair as she wraps me in the fiercest of hugs. She’s more substantial now. Softer. She kisses my temple and presses her forehead to mine. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

It took a whole month before Greg’s and my applications to visit were approved by the Florida Department of Corrections. “Of course I’d come.”

Mom pulls back and smooths the hair away from my face in her familiar way. Her hand pauses against my cheek. “Look at you. So damn beautiful.” She smiles again and glances over my shoulder at my dad. “Greg, thank you for bringing her.”