“DaddaDaddaDadda.” She rubs at her eyes and rests her cheek on my shoulder. “BookBookBook.”
“You want a bedtime story?”
She nods—one, two, three—and I sit down in the rocker beside her crib. I flip on the lamp and reach into the basket beside the rocker. I find her favorite book.
Stars and Mars.
It’s a picture book about an alien and his alien mother. They point out all the planets and the stars. The little alien’s favorite planet is Mars.
I situate Star in my lap and read her the story. She whines when I finish, so I read it again. And again. Star likes things in threes.
Charles and I call it a quirk.
Sage and her pediatrician wonder if it’s more.
When I rise to put Star to bed, she whines again. Someone missed Daddy.
“Come on,” I tell my sweet angel. “We’ll cuddle in Mommy and Daddy’s bed. Daddy is tired.”
She clings to my shirt and her thumb finds her mouth. Suck. Suck. Suck. I know she’ll be out soon. We both will. When I reenter the bedroom, Sage has turned off the overhead light and is cleaning up her mess.
“So much for celebrating, huh?” she asks, a playful smirk on her face.
“We’ll have to celebrate later. Maybe Aimee and Fiona can watch her this Sunday. Then we can celebrate all day long.” I waggle my brows at her. A soft chuckle resounds from her.
“Okay, mister. It’s a date.”
As she heads to the bathroom to clean up, I settle in our bed with Star in my arms. She is extra sensitive tonight and doesn’t let go. I pat her back—one, two, three—just how she likes and kiss her soft hair.
“Love you, little Star.”
I’m almost asleep when Sage exits the bathroom and crawls into bed. She rolls onto her side and cuddles close, her nose nuzzling her daughter and her fingers finding my hair.
“I’m really proud of you, Mars,” she whispers.
I grin in the half-dark room. It’s unbelievable they chose me out of everyone. They’re going to pay me more money than I make all year at the bar to spend a couple of months tagging old brick walls. It’s like the job I’ve always dreamed of. Each business has their own concept that represents what they’re selling or offering. I’m beyond thrilled. “Thanks, babe.”
I catch her wrist and pull her hand that’s still stained with paint to my lips. I press kisses all over, lingering where the simple gold band that promises her to me forever.
“We could buy a house now,” I tell her.
“And fill it up?”
My eyes dart to hers. “We could,” I say slowly, careful not to get my hopes up.
“I’d like that,” she says. “Maybe after college is over and, you know…”
She just wants to make sure Star doesn’t develop some crazy-ass genetic disorder. We go through phases. Most times, our genetics doesn’t play a factor in our love. But other times, it likes to steer the ship. Those times, I’ve found Sage sobbing over her laptop, where she’s fallen down the rabbit hole reading articles. I have to calm her and remind her everything will be okay.
We can’t worry about what might happen.
All we can do is love each other and hope for the best.
“Maybe three,” she says, her voice breathy. It’s always this way when she dreams of what our future will look like. “It would make Star happy.”
Star must agree because she sucks on her thumb one, two, three times.
“One day,” Sage says, a firmness in her tone.
“I’ll wait all the days for you.”
Our eyes lock and love shines so fucking bright in her green orbs.
“How did we get so lucky?” she breathes, her eyes growing glassy with tears.
“I don’t know. Maybe the universe had an off day and we slipped through the cracks.”
So often I’ve hated the universe for all the times it ripped away at us.
But what if…
What if the universe was fighting against all odds to bring us together?
What if the universe was on our side all along?
Maybe the universe was trying to tell us something. To flee our bitter, ugly world and fly high. Together. Like dragonflies. Away from the bad and seek out the good.
Years ago, lying in a field, we gazed at the stars never knowing we’d have one of our very own.
A little star who may not shine exactly like the others, but she blinks, blinks, blinks in a way that makes her special and unique.
“Mars?”
“Mmm?”
“I love you. I love our life.”
I smile, catching my wife’s intense stare before my lids grow heavy with sleep. “Love you more.”
“Impossible,” she whispers.
Star sucks on her thumb one, two, three times.
My heart takes on a cadence of its own.
It beats one, two, three times for my two precious loves…
And then a billion, trillion more.
A beat for each star in the universe.
The End
Listen on Spotify here.
“Movement” by Hozier