Chapter 5 #2
Sophie practically pulls me down on the stool in front of the telescope’s eyepiece, and Kane’s smile deepens.
“This is a serious telescope, Sophie. Really nice,” I tell her.
“Dad got it for my birthday. It’s real easy to use, that’s the best part. No wasting time trying to aim it just right.”
She holds up her phone, opening an app with a star map that matches the sky. She punches in ‘Jupiter’ and the telescope moves automatically, positioning itself to capture the planet.
“Amazing. I’ve never even used a basic one before,” I say.
She beams.
“Hey, Dan,” she says. “Margot’s never used a telescope!”
“What?” Dan pulls out his earbuds.
“I said she’s never used a telescope!”
The kid looks at me with mingled shock and that twitchy excitement kids get when they know something an adult doesn’t.
I don’t hold it against him, though, because he immediately launches into a mangled explanation of how telescopes work.
“That’s wrong,” Sophie says firmly. “They use mirrors.”
“Mirrors, yeah, duh.” He rolls his eyes. “That’s what I said.”
“You said glass, and that’s different.” She looks up at me apologetically, her eyes shining behind her glasses. “Have a look. You might have to adjust the zoom a little.”
She shows me how to change the focus, her fingers moving deftly.
I put my eye to the little black eyepiece and squint.
I’m not sure what I expected, but it adjusts my expectations like a chiropractor snapping bones.
I know what Jupiter looks like.
It’s a big gassy planet with cake-like stripes and swirly orange spots. I’ve seen the pictures.
But instead of the pristine NASA portrait in my mind, I get a field of really bright stars.
And there, right in the middle of my field of vision, is one that’s brighter than the rest. At this magnification, I can see the light and color, a fuzzy smear of a planet with several small moons dancing around it.
Okay, so it’s not perfect.
But for a second, I’m gobsmacked with wonder that’s hard to put into words.
I’m still looking at a planet.
Something hundreds of millions of miles away.
Talk about feeling small, but tonight, that’s kind of comforting. What are my worries and frustrations and hair-ripping frustration with my grandfather’s secrets against the vastness of the universe?
I exhale slowly.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Sophie says.
“Fantabulous,” I say. “Super cool, Soph. Can we see Mars?”
“Not right now. It comes up pretty late this time of year. I wish they were up around the same time. You’d have to wake up really early or stay up real late to see it.”
“Oh, sure. That’s the only planet I’ve ever really noticed in the sky,” I say.
“That’s because it’s so red. Venus is easy, too, but it’s just bright,” Sophie explains. I can’t help smiling at the way she schools me. “It’s way cooler through a telescope. If Dad lets us stay up, I could show you.”
“Unless she’s sick or jet-lagged, my girl should always be asleep at four a.m.” Kane nods gruffly, telling her it’s settled.
God help me, I smile.
“This is a great place for stargazing. No question,” I say.
And no lie.
The light pollution sucks in New York.
Even Portland can’t compare to what’s up here on the nights when the Atlantic isn’t smothering the city with clouds.
Here, the night sky sprawls as far as the eye can see with only the faintest light to one side where Sully Bay is.
“Wow, you can see so much.” Sophie sounds so happy.
I glance at Kane with his eyes half-closed in the chair. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen him relaxed.
Even so, I can feel his attention on us.
And I wonder why they picked here for a getaway.
“So, am I speaking to the future head of NASA?” I tease, looking at Sophie again.
She blushes so fiercely I can see it even in the shadows.
“I really like space,” she says.
“Being an astronaut would be cooler,” Dan says.
They bicker for a few minutes about what’s more impressive—a scientist discovering a new planet or an astronaut walking on Mars—while I take another peek at Jupiter.
Honestly, the clarity isn’t nearly as impressive as the high-res photos you can pull up online.
Still, it almost looks close enough for me to reach out and touch.
But when I pull back and squint up at the night sky and there’s nothing but that small bright pinprick of light, the universe doesn’t feel like a massive empty room.
A cool wind blows in and I shiver.
“Right, guys. You still have a lot of people on both sides who’ll agree,” Kane interrupts a new debate about how ‘mean’ it is that Pluto isn’t a planet now.
“But if Pluto’s a planet, it means we have a ton of planets in our solar system. It’s not that special. There are lots of frozen balls just like it out there. Do you really wanna memorize thirty more planets?” Dan challenges.
“Why not? Just wait till they start imaging other stars.” Sophie turns to me. “They can’t do it yet. But Dad sent me an article where they’re trying to use AI with the closest stars. Won’t that be crazy? Seeing brand-new planets up close?”
I think Sophie is patiently trying to educate me, but she keeps getting derailed by Dan.
Kane actually chuckles.
I throw him a knowing smile.
Seeing them fight like that brings back memories. Ethan was way worse than Dan when he was a kid.
The pranks we’d pull on each other were legendary.
Sophie and Dan don’t have quite that dynamic.
They bicker just like we did, but my brother would’ve called me out for being a dork with a telescope or talking about sci-fi stuff. There’s a warm friendliness to Dan that brings a pang to my chest.
They’re such sweet kids.
“It’s getting late, guys. Start wrapping up.”
“Daaad,” Sophie whines, giving the telescope another longing look. “It’s not even that late yet.”
“Going on ten o’clock,” he says, tapping his smartwatch. He sets his bottle on the ground and stands with a bearish stretch. “Come on. You know we’re heading into town tomorrow.”
I try not to listen too closely, sliding awkwardly off the stool and heading over to the sofa, wrapping myself in blankets.
The night sky unfurls above us, so vast it takes my breath away, as Kane finally ushers the protesting kids inside.
It’s been forever since I sat in front of a fire like this.
I tip my head back, letting the fire’s warmth sink into my skin.
The day’s frustrations melt away into a low hum of discontent I can handle.
It’s not just the fire, I think. A little company doesn’t hurt. And yes, maybe Kane doesn’t hurt tonight either with the note and the sandwich.
He’s back a few minutes later, picking up his beer bottle and sinking into the other end of the sofa.
We’re silent for a few heavy seconds.
It should be uncomfortable, but it feels weirdly easy.
Not many people I know wear silence as gracefully as Kane Saint.
“Nice night, huh? The air’s almost perfect with its bite.” He takes a long swig from his bottle. I do not look at the curve of his throat. “Should get the hot tub going one day. The scenery’s made for it out here and it’s the perfect season.”
“I’m not sure how much work it’ll be. Old electrical and all, plus I bet it needs a new pump. It’s probably been years since it was last turned on,” I say too quickly.
Hot tub has certain connotations.
The sexy kind I totally don’t need right now.
Kane doesn’t strike me as the sort of guy to do casual anyway, and I’m a hookup kinda gal. Almost exclusively.
It’s just tidier without any tangled feelings or lofty expectations.
Also, I don’t have space in my life for commitment, much less a relationship, even if I’m not getting any younger.
That makes me think of PopPop and my stomach knots.
Grief is weird.
“I could make it work. Let me take a look,” he offers.
Ugh, no.
But I can’t scold him for being so handy when my little lie eats away at me. After spending time with them again, the guilt gnaws me to the bone.
Come clean with me when you’re ready.
I’m not a chronic liar, I swear. But I’m also not a loyal truth teller.
Kane isn’t exactly an open book himself.
But secrets are in the Blackthorn blood, and to tell people all those grubby little facts about yourself, you have to get close to them.
You have to trust them.
The past five years or so, the only people I’ve felt close to are Ethan and Hattie. Though I guess there’s a first time for everything, including trading half-truths with a stranger who stirs me up in ways I don’t want to deal with.
I shift around so I’m facing him, wrapping the blanket up to my chin.
He twists, too, blanket-free, though he’s wearing a gorgeous burgundy sweater that looks soft enough to sink into. Our breath spirals out in white puffs.
Oh, this is harder than I thought.
But we’re sharing space—something I haven’t really done since Hattie ran off and married my brother.
For whatever reason, I don’t want him thinking the worst of me, like I’m some lying spoiled brat who can’t be trusted around his kids.
“Hey, so… I got the sandwich. And your note.”
Awkward. I almost regret the words as soon as they’re out.
He nods, sipping his beer again before setting his bottle down.
It lands on the wooden armrest next to him with a slight clink. “I shouldn’t have gotten in your face like that. My bad, duchess.”
“You’re going to keep doing that, aren’t you?”
“If the glove fits.” He shrugs, biting back a smile.
I should be furious. The last boy who called me that dumb nickname tried to copy my book report. I guess it was his way of ‘getting back’ at the class princess, all thanks to being a Blackthorn.
And I kinda proved the point by telling the teacher and getting him suspended for three days.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Kane whispers. “It’s how you carry yourself. Very regal. You see how Sophie looks at you. Dan, too, and I’d like to keep it that way. That’s why I’m over what happened earlier—even if it doesn’t mean I’ll drop the duchess part anytime soon.”
I swallow a laugh, shaking my head.
It’s not quite an apology, but it’s close.
Now, I might have to give him the truth.