Chapter 23 #2
When Adam eventually came onto the patio, he was quiet. Carly patted the Adirondack chair next to hers and he sat. He handed
Carly a glass of red wine and sipped from his own. She wasn’t used to sitting in the quiet, but sensed he needed a moment.
So she waited. Carly leaned all the way back in the chair and watched the night sky. There were so many stars—more than she’d
ever seen in her life. It was hard to believe that while they were in Julian, above them was life they’d never see beyond
bright specks in the sky.
Eventually, Adam said, “We’re not usually like this. We don’t fight. We don’t talk to each other about these things.”
“For what it’s worth, I think it’s good to talk about the big life stuff while you can. I never got a chance to do that with
my dad. I always thought we’d have more time.” She hugged herself to fend off the cold. Without asking, Adam took off his
blazer and draped it across her shoulders. The fabric smelled buttery, like him. “How do you feel?” she asked.
“Angry. Bitter. Exhausted. I don’t know.” He sucked in his bottom lip. “I thought being honest would be this big cathartic
moment, but I don’t feel any resolution. It’s like, sure, I’ve told the truth, but I’m in the same situation with the added
bonus of my dad being mad at me.”
“He’s not mad at you.” Carly tucked the blazer around herself. “He thinks he did right by you, and it’s hard for him to acknowledge
that he should’ve done anything different. He probably needs time to come to terms with that.”
“How do you know Bill’s inner monologue?” Adam gave her an amused look.
“I’m a screenwriter. My job is to analyze people’s motivations. If I’m doing my job well, then I’m right.” She wiggled against the colder air.
“Maybe he’s right, you know? It’s not like they forced me into the job, or this life.” Adam swung his long legs to stretch
all the way to the end of the chair.
“No, they didn’t,” Carly said. “But it’s really hard to say no to a sure thing.”
“Not for you,” Adam said.
Carly knew their situations were not at all similar, but she spelled it out for Adam. “My dad worked in movies. Me making
a leap into screenwriting wasn’t completely new. I mean, if I’d told my dad I wanted to be a rocket scientist, he’d probably
be over the moon, no pun intended. But it seems to me that your dad did the best he could. Your mom, too. You just needed
more.”
“Yeah, I did,” he said softly.
“Your mom is right, by the way. You can still pursue Caltech. Whatever your nerdy heart desires.” She waved a hand toward
the sky.
“We have to get out of here first, though.” Adam gave her an almost hopeful look. “What about you? What are you going to do
if we get out?”
“When we get out,” Carly said, “I’m going to do a lot of things. Never eat apple pie again, for one. Maybe never leave my apartment.
Never come back here.” She cringed. She didn’t mean that she didn’t want to see Adam again, just not the town. “You know what
I mean,” she added.
“Trust me, I’d like to drive out of here, too. I’ll probably have to come back, though, considering the parents thing. And
the fact that I still like the apple pie.”
“I knew you were a monster, Adam. I just didn’t realize how deeply.”
That got a laugh out of him, which sent flutters through her belly.
Even though the loop was closing and Adam had just fought with his parents, Carly didn’t feel drained.
Being here with him made sense, like part of her was lit up because of their closeness.
She scooted her chair toward his and reached for him.
He wrapped his hand around hers and they both stared up at the sky.
The air hummed with crickets and the faint hoot of an owl.
“Look, do you see that big orange star?” Adam pointed above them.
“I . . .” She hesitated, then excitedly said, “Yes! What does it mean?”
He gently reached for her finger and pointed up. “That star is actually the planet Jupiter, which we can see tonight. But
if you look at the stars above it, you’ll see a constellation called Leo. It’s the easiest one to see.”
He took her hand and brought her finger from the top of the head, down the neck, along the back, and around to form the constellation.
“I see it.” A delighted smile crossed her lips. “It doesn’t really look like a lion, though. I mean, this could be anything.
A lamb. A coat hanger. A futuristic mouse with a very pointy tail.”
He held back a laugh. “The people who named these constellations took liberties.”
“It’s still cool, though. I mean, for all I know, you just made this up. But because you have a telescope, I choose to believe
you. That’s power, my guy.”
My guy. She liked the sound of that. They were together, side by side, the universe above them, and inches apart from each other
on the earth.
“It’s two telescopes,” he said.
“Of course. Two.” She smirked.
“When I look up it feels like I can escape into the unknown,” Adam said.
“But you’re so type-A.” Carly elbowed him playfully. “Doesn’t it drive you crazy to not know what’s out there?”
“It’s the promise that I might be the one to solve what’s out there that excites me,” he said.
“Cheers,” she said and raised her glass. “To solving what’s out there.”
“To being with you,” Adam said. And they locked eyes.
The side of her mouth twitched, and she let out a heavy breath of gratitude. The next loop wasn’t guaranteed, but this moment
with the man she really liked was. Carly leaned across and told him as much with a kiss.