Miranda in Retrograde

18. Capricorn Season

CAPRICORN SEASON

Today you’ll find yourself pulled in a forbidden direction. Proceed with caution; something that feels seductive and irresistible today is unlikely to serve you well in the future. Prepare to feel a pull toward unfamiliar paths. Trust your instincts, but be ready to take a step back to reassess before committing further.

You’re sure this isn’t some sort of terrible dating faux pas?” Christian asks, his smile just as cute on FaceTime as it is in person. “Are we at the point where I can ask you these sorts of painful favors?”

“It’s a holiday party,” I say, taking a sip of my tea. “That’s not painful.”

“It’s a work holiday party. For someone else’s work. The small talk required of you alone will likely be excruciating.”

“Nah. The most uncomfortable part will be the high heels,” I reply.

Well, and the strapless bra.

“If we were going to my work holiday party, I’d be dragging you,” I add. “So consider us hypothetically even.”

He props his elbows on his knees and leans toward the screen slightly. “You bummed?”

I frown. “About?”

“That they didn’t invite you. Technically, you’re still part of their faculty roster, right?”

“Technically,” I admit. “And actually… I did get an invitation.”

He blinks. “Yeah? Was it while you were in Boston?”

“Nope. It was the week before.”

“And you didn’t want to go?”

I snort. “Not even a little bit.”

He smiles but looks a little bothered. “You don’t think that’ll come across as sour grapes, as my mom would say?”

“They already denied me tenure, Christian. And forced me into a sabbatical. I am feeling a bit sour toward them.”

“As you should!” he agrees quickly. “I’m just looking forward to watching you get back on the top of your game. Making them see they screwed up.”

I sip my tea again, a little surprised by the flicker of annoyance I feel at his words and the implication that being at the top of my game means reclaiming my place at Nova. And I suppose he’s not wrong. That is where I’m likely headed back to, after all.

“I know you weren’t up for going out tonight. But you’re sure I can’t bring you dinner?” he asks.

Christian had suggested we grab dinner and recap our respective holidays, but I’d requested a rain check. Hence the FaceTime. I got back home from Boston a few hours ago, and all I really want is a good night’s sleep and some alone time.

“I’m good,” I say. “Thanks, though. And I’ll see you in a couple days for your party.”

He touches his ear. “Ah. I’m hearing a dismissal.”

“You’re hearing the aftermath of a Reed family Christmas.”

“Not a good visit?”

“Eh. You know how the holidays can be.”

“I want to hear all about it. Later.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Tell Kylee I say hi.”

Christian rolls his eyes. “I will if she ever comes out of her room.”

“Good Christmas haul for her?”

“Let’s just say her mom and I may have made a mistake by giving in to the video game console request. Now I have to go tell her she’s reached her daily limit of screen time. Pray for me.”

“Godspeed,” I say with a laugh as I end the call.

I make myself another cup of tea, and then, because I’m tired but not quite sleepy, I grab my coat and watering can and make my way up to the roof. The forecast called for clouds all night, and there’s only a crescent moon today, so I’m not expecting to see Archer, but the Buzzes still need their water. Sure enough, the roof is practically pitch-black as I make my way to the plants. A quick poke of the soil tells me Archer made good on his promise to water the plants while I was gone.

When I turn to go back inside, I let out a squeaking noise, because Archer is sitting at my outdoor table. Lounging, actually, legs outstretched, hands crossed over his thick winter jacket as he stares up at the cloudy sky.

“Hey! What are you doing over here?” There’s no sign of his easel.

He looks my way. “Randy. Good Christmas?”

I let out a little huff and drop into the chair beside him.

“Same,” he remarks.

“You stayed here, right?” I ask, since I haven’t seen much of him the past few weeks. December weather doesn’t exactly lend itself to lingering outdoors on the roof at night.

“Yup.”

“Alone?”

He looks over. “I like being alone. But no. My brother and his family were here for a couple days.”

“Oh. I don’t think I knew you had a brother. Any nieces or nephews?”

“Three. All under the age of five. Hence this,” he says, pointing at the generous whiskey jar in front of him.

Wordlessly, I reach out and help myself to a sip, then do a double take when I see a bulky object covered by a sheet beside the table and chairs. “What the heck is that?”

He shrugs. “Was here when I came up.”

“And you didn’t think to inspect it?”

“It’s your roof, Randy.”

“Right. Because you’re so diligent about respecting my personal space,” I reply, setting my mug on the table and reaching for the base of the sheet.

“I’d tug it carefully,” Archer says, his tone a touch more hurried than usual. “Don’t yank.”

“Aha, so you do know what it is,” I say, taking his advice and sliding the sheet off gingerly.

What’s beneath leaves me speechless.

“It’s a telescope,” I say, running a hand reverently over the tube, casting a stunned glance over at Archer. “Is this… from you?”

He shrugs. “It was selfishly motivated. I figured it could be something to keep you busy while you’re up here instead of talking at me.”

I’m too flustered by the generous and thoughtful gift to come up with a retort, or to point out that he’s the one on my roof.

As though he was waiting for me.

To give me the telescope. A telescope. A gift that’s so thoughtful, so perfect, I can’t even quite comprehend it.

He clears his throat. “Kylee mentioned you donated yours. Didn’t seem right, you not having one.”

I run a hand over it, dying to try it out, but I know from experience that I can lose myself for hours on the viewing end of a telescope, and I want to give him his gift.

“Don’t move,” I say, pointing at him. “I got something for you, too.”

I race down the stairs to retrieve the present I’d gotten for Archer, suddenly giddy to have him open it.

The box is large and bulky, so I take my time carrying it back up the steps. I make a little sound of dismay when I see he’s no longer sitting at the table, but then I see him on his own roof, heading back toward me.

“Here, wait. Stay there,” I say, walking toward him. “This actually goes right where you’re standing.”

I start to step over the gap between our two roofs, but he makes a sharp warning noise. “Careful. It’s icy.”

Archer sets aside the blanket he must have retrieved while I was downstairs and takes the gift from me.

He surprises me then, setting the gift next to the blanket and extending a hand to me. I hesitate a moment before taking it. Rationally, I know he’s just being a gentleman to keep me from slipping.

Emotionally, touching him seems…

Risky.

Finally, I place my hand in his. I don’t mean to look at him. I don’t want to look at him, but my gaze is pulled to his like a magnet.

Carefully, I step onto his roof, but not carefully enough, because my foot slips just a little. His other hand comes up to my back to steady me. “Okay?” he asks.

I let out a laugh that sounds a bit strained with embarrassment and… something.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

His blue eyes hold mine for a moment longer before he nods and releases me.

He looks down at the gift. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be that guy. Just open it.”

Archer sets the box on the ground, kneeling to unwrap it as I watch with my bottom lip between my teeth, suddenly self-conscious. The idea for Archer’s gift had come to me on a whim a couple of weeks ago. I actually hadn’t even known it existed, but was thrilled when a bit of googling helped me find exactly what I’d been envisioning.

Now, however, it seems…

Goofy.

Maybe even outright embarrassing.

But when he finishes tearing off the paper, he doesn’t laugh.

In fact, he doesn’t do or say anything at all. He just stares at the image and name printed on the side of the large box.

“It’s a lamp,” I explain nervously. “Made for the outdoors. It’s meant to emulate the moonlight, and I thought maybe… I thought you could use it when there isn’t enough actual light for you to draw.”

“Damn,” he says softly.

“Stupid?” I ask, shoving my hands into my parka pockets.

Archer sets a hand atop the box and glances up at me. “No. It’s a good gift, Randy. Really good.”

I exhale in relief.

He stands and shoves his own hands into his pockets. “Want to put our new gifts to use?” he asks.

There’s a hopefulness in his voice that causes a strange ache in my chest.

“But, if it’s too cold—”

“Not too cold,” I interrupt in an excited rush, though suspicion nips at the back of my mind that my enthusiasm doesn’t just stem from the telescope.

Archer nods toward his door. “I’ll go grab my stuff.” Then he points at my roof. “Do not slip and die getting back over there.”

I give him a little salute and gingerly make my way over to my own roof, though the gap between the buildings isn’t much of a threat to anything other than my ego if I were to slip.

Once I land safely, I settle behind the telescope, letting out a happy sigh of delight when I position it and get my first look. Being just across the river from Manhattan means the stargazing conditions are hardly ideal. Even with a body of water between me and the skyscrapers, their light pollution is still very present. But even that can’t dampen the wonder of it.

Not too long later, I hear the bang of Archer’s door as he comes back outside, followed by the sound of a box cutter and the rustle of packaging.

A long time later, I pull myself away from my new telescope and glance over to see him busily sketching away, his new moon lamp giving off a warm, soft glow beside him.

And then, even though it’s late, I go back to stargazing, surprised to realize that my desire for an early bedtime and being alone don’t seem to apply when I’m up here.

Mostly, I try very hard not to think about the reason. Or that the man beside me might be the very thing my horoscope was warning me about.