Chapter 11 - Where the Stars Reach
Z
A year later, on a crisp, clear January evening, the air over Knoxville was sharp and brilliant with stars.
The café was closed for the night, its windows warm and glowing from the small amber lamps left on inside. Upstairs in our apartment, the smell of roasted chicken and fresh bread drifted through the rooms.
I stood on the small fire escape balcony outside Nolan’s bedroom window, wrapping a thick wool scarf around my neck against the winter cold. Next to me stood Nolan, wrapped in his heavy winter coat, holding a sleek black telescope we had bought together for his ninth birthday.
He adjusted the brass dial on the side, his breath rising in white clouds against the dark night sky.
"Look, Mom!" Nolan whispered, his voice full of wonder. "You can see the craters on the moon! You can see the edges of the shadows!"
I leaned down, pressing my eye to the lens.
There it was—floating high above the dark silhouettes of the Tennessee hills, brilliant, white, and luminous. The moon looked so close you could reach out and touch it, scarred by millions of years of impacts, yet shining with a light that cut through the absolute dark of space.
"It’s beautiful, baby," I whispered, straightening up and pulling his hood tighter around his ears.
Nolan looked up at me, his dark eyes sparkling under the starlight. He reached down and pulled open his heavy winter jacket, revealing the navy-blue shirt he still refused to throw away—even though it was now two sizes too small and worn thin at the elbows.
Inside the lower hem, the faded blue ink was still visible under the balcony light: MY MOM MAKES OUR SMALL HOME FEEL LIKE THE WHOLE WORLD.
"Do you remember when Grant’s lawyer said this shirt was trash?" Nolan asked softly.
"I remember," I said, putting my arm around his small shoulders, pulling him tight against my side.
"He didn't know anything, did he?" Nolan said, looking back up at the stars. "He thought the moon was just something far away and small."
"People who only look down never see how big the sky is, Nolan," I said, kissing the top of his head.
My mother opened the balcony door, sending a shaft of warm, yellow light across the icy deck. "Dinner’s on the table, you two! Before the soup gets cold!"
"Coming, Grandma!" Nolan called out. He took one last look through the telescope, then turned to me, offering his hand.
May you like
I took his small, warm hand in mine.
We stepped inside out of the cold, shutting the heavy wooden door behind us, locking out the shadows of the past, surrounded by the warmth, the laughter, and the steady, unbreakable light of the home we had built together.
