Chapter Twenty-Three
Sixtine
Opening the door and pushing aside the flap that keeps the heat inside, I duct my head and walk into the glamping-style tent we have set up in our backyard.
“Here you go, ma chérie ,” I say, handing Astra a steaming cup of hot cocoa. “Be careful, it’s very hot. Blow on it before taking a sip.”
Astra reaches for the mug with small, excited hands and blows at the steam as instructed, a large smile stretching across her face. “ Merci, Maman .”
Like my parents did with me, Phoenix and I are raising Astra in a bicultural household. Even though she’s never lived in France, she’s completely fluent and embraces her Frenchness as much as I do, much to my own Mum’s delight.
It helps that her dad is fluent as well. I found out when I was in the hospital after an allergic reaction to peanut oil. I had witnessed Phoenix conversing easily back and forth with the nurse. It’s only later that he told me he spent years learning it as a way to stay close to me when he couldn’t keep me out of his head.
He’s always been that way; as secretive and quiet in his obsession with me as some of his friends are loud and boastful with their wives. Phoenix has given me more than I could ever dream of over the years, but the best thing by far is the ability to raise our daughter in the language of my heart. I didn’t realize the significance of that gift until she was here and the words of love that came most naturally to me were in French.
“Are you comfortable?” I ask her, fluffing the pillows behind her before motioning for her to lie back down.
“Yes. Are you?”
I snuggle in beside her and bring the thick down blanket up to cover us both.
“Very. Only one thing is missing…” I reach for my mug and bring it up to my lips, taking a hearty sip of the rich cocoa and humming appreciatively. “ Parfait .”
She giggles happily and burrows into the crook of my arm as we both look up towards the heavens. Astra has been obsessed with stars since she was two when she was first gifted a coloring book of the galaxy. It might have been spurred by the origins of her name or the fact that her father and I talk to her about the stars, but her obsession has grown independently since.
For her eighth birthday last weekend, we rented out the Royal Observatory and had two astronauts attend in full costume. She’d watched and listened to them with wide-eyed astonishment, barely moving from her spot for the two hours they were there.
Later that night, she came to our room and announced that she was going to be the first woman to walk on the Moon.
As a present, Phoenix had this tent custom made for her. It’s your classic rigid structure with a few notable upgrades; namely, built-in heating to ward off the cold and a translucent ceiling for optimal stargazing.
The day after her party, Phoenix had to leave on a business trip with my dad. He’ll only be back tonight, so he had a specialized team come over this afternoon to set the tent up for our first night outside.
I’m not sure who was most blown away when we first set foot in the tent, me or Astra. Phoenix went above and beyond in setting up the coziest sleepover possible, featuring hundreds of individual star nightlights, a massive fluffy mattress with an overabundance of pillows and throw blankets, a mountain of snacks, and even a telescope.
“When is Daddy coming home?”
I look down at my watch. “Soon. He should have landed already.”
“I hope I’m still awake,” she says dreamily.
“Don’t worry, chérie , he’ll wake you up if you’re asleep.”
Astra has her dad wrapped around her little finger. He’s more protective of her than he is of me, if that’s even possible, and it’s only getting more pronounced as she starts to approach the age Astor was when he died.
She looks a lot like him.
While Phoenix and Astor were twins, they were also complete opposites in coloring. The former is dark haired with equally black eyes whereas the latter was fair haired with blue eyes.
Astra inherited Astor’s exact hair, a deep golden color that shines brightly in the sun with red undertones she got from me. Her face has his same shape and the dimples she flashes at anyone who’s earned her smile are the ghost of his.
She’s as beautiful as he was.
There are times I’ve had to do a double take when glancing at her because she looks so much like Astor, so I can’t imagine what it must be like for Phoenix. Sometimes I catch him staring at her while she’s playing in the back fields of our country house and I know he’s seeing his brother running through those same footsteps.
The only major difference in her features from Astor’s are her eyes. I like to believe they couldn’t decide which brothers’ color to go with so they decided to split and represent them both. Her right eye is black, as obsidian as her father’s, while her left eye is light blue.
The heterochromia is at once stunning and startling, making most people do a double take when they look at her. She’s gotten used to it over the years but I fear it’ll get more pronounced as she grows older and starts to attract attention of a different kind.
I swallow a choked laugh at the thought of her bringing a boyfriend home. Her father is going to have a coronary the second she mentions a boy’s name.
“Look!” She points excitedly at the sky. “A shooting star. Did you see it Mummy?”
I turn my head away from my examination of her face and towards the sky just in time to catch the tail end of the shooting star as it burns out.
“I did. You know those are signs of good luck, right? You have to make a wish now.”
Astra scrunches up her face in concentration, her eyes moving frantically behind her eyelids as she thinks of something to wish for.
“Quickly!”
Her eyes burst open, wide with ebullient excitement.
“I got it!”
“Good. Keep it close to your heart. You can’t tell anyone else, otherwise it won’t come true.”
“I won’t,” she vows.
Lifting a brow at her, I add, “You can’t even tell your Dad.”
Her face falls. “But what if he asks?”
I laugh softly. “You have to keep this one secret from him.”
“Will he be mad?”
I brush back her hair and kiss her forehead gently. “No, little star. He won’t.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Okay then.”
The air is crisp and the sky is clear, not a cloud in sight. A perfect night for stargazing. As we look up at the black canopy of the skies, I see stars that I haven’t seen in a long time.
“Do you see that little star right there? Just off to the side of the Big Dipper?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s my star.”
Astra looks at me with a face full of childhood wonder. “ Your star?”
I nod. “Do you know how many stars I own?”
She shakes her head vigorously back and forth. Looking down into her small face, I can see the sky reflected in her one black iris, almost as if it’s tattooed there.
Conspiratorially, I whisper, “Five thousand.”
“Five thousand ?”
“Well, five thousand and sixteen to be exact.” I grin. “Your father can be sentimental.”
“Daddy bought you the stars?” I can hear it in her voice, that her awe of her father is growing even wider with this revelation.
“He did. He buys them for me all the time, for the little milestones like the big ones. I think he’d buy me a planet if it was possible to purchase those.”
The sound of a flap being thrown back echoes, followed by, “Make no mistake, I’ll get you a planet if you want one, wild girl.”
My husband appears as if I conjured him by wishing for him upon that shooting star.
And maybe I did.
Maybe I did.
Phoenix is shedding his coat and striding across the tent in the same breath, and then he’s lifting the covers back and sliding in besides me, wrapping his warm arms around my middle and burying his face in the crook of my neck with a throttled, almost pained-sounding groan.
“Back home at last,” he mumbles into my throat, inhaling deeply.
I reach back and cup his nape as my heart settles, running my nails up and down the slope of his head and neck just the way he likes.
“Nix,” I sigh.
“Daddy, come over here!” Astra demands on the other side of me.
“In a moment, little star.” He licks my throat and nibbles my ear. “I have to say hi to your mum first.”
She pouts discontentedly but I barely register it. Phoenix’s hand slides underneath my sweater, runs up the expanse of my stomach and cups my breast.
“Fuck, baby,” he mutters against my skin.
“Missed you,” I breathe.
“You have no idea.” His hands are everywhere. Feeling me. Caressing me. Reacquainting himself with me as if a couple nights away has made him forget my curves. “I’m buying you a planet next.”
I gasp softly and turn into him, my back facing Astra. She’s used to witnessing lengthy reunions between us so she doesn’t interrupt further, merely clutching her stuffed astronaut to her chest and continuing to stare up at the sky.
Phoenix grabs my hip and pulls me against him, hooking one of my legs over his and palming my ass.
“No— Nix, you can’t buy me a planet.”
His brow furrows, that deep line he gets when he doesn’t understand emerging between his eyes.
“Why not?” He fingers strands of my red hair, wrapping them possessively around his fist and staring at them with dark, obsessed eyes. “You’re the sun,” he whispers. “Every planet orbits you, desperate to bask in a moment of your attention, just like the rest of us. It’s only fitting that they should also belong to you.”
When my father walked me down the aisle on our wedding day, he hesitated when handing me off to Phoenix. He wouldn’t release my hand, asking me one final time if I was sure, if I knew what I was doing, if Phoenix really could make me happy.
Back then, I simply assured him that he could and would.
Today, I’d tell him that my husband is a man who would reach into the heavens and pull down the stars from the sky just to give them to me. A man who would steal the moon itself just to see me smile. A man who would stand between me and the most violent of storms just to protect me.
When your husband looks at you the way a sunflower looks at the sun—turning every which way in desperate attempt to follow its journey, to bask in its light—you can’t help but feel like you might actually be the sun; bright and burning and beautiful.
I knew it back then, but I couldn’t articulate it to my father.
I can now.
Phoenix loves me more than he loves the breath in his lungs.
I cup his face and seal my lips to his, relishing in his taste after a couple days of separation.
“Leave some of the sky for others, Nix. I’m happy with my five thousand and sixteen stars.”
His eyes are lowered to my mouth, pupils blown. His thumb brushes across my bottom lip.
“Five thousand and seventeen.”
I kiss his thumb, then his words register. “What?”
His gaze remains fixed steadfastly on mine as he reaches into his back pocket. “I’m sorry it took so long; they were stubborn as fuck at the IAU.” He unfolds a piece of paper and hands it to me. “It took me every day of ten years, but I won in the end.”
I peruse the document in my hands.
The deed of sale.
The date of purchase.
The name of the star.
Sirius .
Sirius, who we first looked up at when I wasn’t sure we would make it. Sirius, who we’ve watched countless times and has been our guiding light these past fifteen years. Sirius, who Phoenix promised he would get for me even though it didn't seem possible.
And he did.
“How?” My hands shake, as does my voice. “I-I thought it was impossible.”
He’s satisfied by my reaction, his grin as arrogant as I’ve seen it. “Impossible is nothing when it comes to you.”
I smash my lips against his, my arms wrapping around his neck in my desperation to be closer, infinitely closer, to him. He rolls over onto his back with an appreciative groan, taking me with him. One hand palms my ass greedily while the other cups my nape, keeping me pinned to him.
“Nix—” I rip my lips from his with difficulty, breathing heavily. “We have to keep it PG-13… Astra .”
The way he pulls air into his lungs reveals his breathing is equally affected. “We’ll finish this later,” he promises or warns, I’m not sure which. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He throws back the covers and stands, walking over to where he hastily discarded his coat and picking it up off the floor.
I take advantage of his momentary distraction and turn back towards Astra, murmuring so only she can hear me, “In a few years, you’ll probably have your first crush. Then your first boyfriend or girlfriend. Remember, never settle. Don’t date anyone who doesn’t treat you exactly like your Daddy treats me, okay?”
“Someone who buys me things?” she whispers back.
“Not necessarily. Money isn’t what’s important because not everyone has it. We’re extremely fortunate,” I explain. “No, someone who will give you their whole heart without any reservations.”
“I’ll try.”
Squeezing her hand, I say, “I’ll help you, if you want.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. Boys are gross anyway.”
“ Exactly ,” Phoenix interjects, getting into the bed on her side this time. “Boys are horrific creatures who cannot be trusted and should be avoided with the same abject horror as the bubonic plague.”
I roll my eyes but don’t put up a fight. Astra has already moved on from this conversation, too busy showing her dad exactly what she’s discovered in the night sky.
***
Later, Astra is sound asleep in the crook of her dad’s arm. Her face rests on his chest and moves up and down with the rhythm of his breathing. Phoenix stares down at her in wonder, much more taken by her than he is the stars. He brushes his fingers through her hair quietly, content to spend his night this way.
Picking back up where we left off, I say, “I know we’re years away from this yet, but she’s never going to meet anyone if you helicopter parent her like this.”
He throws a narrowed look my way. “First of all, no man will ever be good enough for my little girl. Secondly, she’ll never date anyone. Ever.” His hand tightens around her. “I challenge any man to come after her when she’s not allowed to leave the house.”
With a loose smile on my lips, I shake my head. There’s a battle ahead, of that I’m sure. “Poor girl,” I whisper thoughtfully. “She won’t ever be able to leave her tower. Some brave person is going to have to get behind the walls of your fortress to get to her.”
He growls in warning, a deep sound that rumbles in his chest and curls his lip into a snarl. I laugh in the face of it, not easily cowed by his theatrics when I’m used to defusing him before he detonates.
The sound of my laughter alone is enough to ease the tension in his shoulders. For a few minutes, we simply watch our daughter sleep.
“Do you want another one?”
The question is whispered softly, inquisitively, the same way as the two other times he’s asked it. I know him well enough to understand that he’s not asking because he wants to press the topic or because he has a particular opinion on the matter. He asks because, as always, he’s checking in on what I want. Making sure that he’s not passing by a desire of mine that I might be keeping secret simply because he hasn’t asked.
So he asks.
And my answer is the same.
“No.” I reach over to them and drag my knuckles in a soft caress down Astra’s pink cheek. “But maybe one day.”
I would tell him if I was ready to adopt.
***