All The Stars In Heaven (7 page)

Sarah focused as her father explained her assignment and showed her the pictures of the contacts. Only after her gun was secured beneath her sweatshirt, the cash was stuffed in the front pocket of her jeans, and she’d climbed into Carl’s old truck did she finally allow her mind to wander again.

Ignoring Carl’s suggestion that she scoot closer, she leaned her head against the passenger window, welcoming the cold that both kept her awake and renewed her sense of longing for escape. Feeling as trapped as if she were behind bars, Sarah pressed her fingers to the glass, wishing she were on the other side. The night was dark and cloudy, and she felt gloom descending. Letting the cold seal off her emotions, she prepared to do the job she hated.

Chapter Ten

With several grocery bags in each hand, Jay kicked the door shut behind him and headed for the compact galley kitchen in their apartment. Entering the narrow space, he saw Trish sitting on the far counter beside the sink, her arms wrapped around Archer, who stood in front of her. Eyes closed, she murmured something unintelligible as she leaned forward, covering his lips with hers.

Doing his best to ignore the two of them, Jay set the bags on the floor and opened the fridge. He began shuffling things around—mostly moldy and green—making room for the food he’d bought.

“Do you mind?” Archer asked, pulling away from Trish long enough to send Jay a look of annoyance. “We’re trying to have a moment of privacy here.”

“Sure. I’ll just let my milk curdle while you two go at it.” Jay tossed a container of take-out Chinese toward the trash and continued putting his food away.

“
Excellent
—you bought milk.” Mike sauntered into the kitchen, pajamas pants flapping, though it was well past noon. “Did ya get some cereal to go with it?” He grabbed the carton from Jay, popped it open, and began to chug.

“Hey,” Jay said. “That’s not—”

“Cookies! Even better.” Mike wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then reached down, snagging a package of Double Stuf Oreos from one of the bags.

Jay took both from him. “
My
milk.
My
cookies.”

“But we’re roomies. We’re supposed to share.”

“I share all the time,” Jay said. “Tell me what you’ve contributed to this kitchen lately—besides dirty dishes.”

Mike scratched his head, causing his case of bed head to worsen. “I ordered pizza in September.”

“It’s almost Halloween,” Jay reminded him.

“Trish and I are having a moment here,” Archer snapped. He stepped away from Trish and walked toward them. “Take your Oreos and your argument elsewhere. I was here first.”

“This is the kitchen, Arch.” Both Jay and Mike spoke at the same time.

“You can’t expect us to stay out of here,” Jay finished.

“It’s all right.” Trish came up behind Archer and put her arms around him. “I’ve got to get home to study anyhow. Come over at seven, okay?”

“Okay.” Archer looked sullen as he turned to give her a quick kiss.

“And you two should come to the Halloween party at our sorority,” Trish said to Jay and Mike. “It’s next Friday—the twenty-eighth. Everyone’s invited. But you have to come in costume.”

Archer hauled Trish up against his side. “We’re going as Robin Hood and Maid Marian. I’m taking the bow out of storage.” His free arm drew back as he shot an imaginary arrow.

Jay raised his eyebrows. “Original. Who’d have guessed?”

“What kind of food did you say there would be?” Mike leaned over, peering into one of the open grocery bags.

Jay nudged it out of his reach. “Find your own breakfast.”

“Well, I gotta go. Bye, Arch.” Trish left the kitchen, waggling her fingers at him.

“See ya,” Archer said.

“Later,” Mike mumbled.

“Good luck with your test tomorrow,” Jay called.

As soon as the door closed behind Trish, Archer turned to Jay with a scowl. “What test?”

“Economics.” Jay set a block of cheese in the fridge door, wondering as he did if it would still be there tomorrow. “She’s really worried about it.”

“How come she told you instead of me?”

Jay shrugged. “Maybe because I ask her about stuff like that. If you’d give her a chance to do something else with her lips once in a while . . .”

Archer grinned, his good humor suddenly restored. “Why would I want to do that?” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Come to think of it, why would I want to hear about some stupid econ test? No. I’ve got things right.”

“Speaking of things that
aren’t
right—there’s a bunch of rotting food in here that belongs to you guys. You gonna clean it out sometime soon?”

“It’s not mine,” Mike said, raising his hands as he backed away from the fridge. “I haven’t bought groceries in weeks.”

“No kidding,” Jay muttered. “Arch? Any of this stuff yours?”

Archer stepped closer to the fridge, bending over to peer inside. “Yeah, probably. But I don’t need it. Trish feeds me almost every night.”

“Sounds like a pretty sweet deal,” Mike said. “She have any available roommates?”

“None you’d want to look at.” Archer grimaced and gave an exaggerated shudder.

Figuring it would take more energy to coax someone else into cleaning the refrigerator than it would to do the job himself, Jay pulled the trash can closer and started dumping things in it. The crisper yielded two black bananas, a small bunch of grapes that used to be green but were now growing some kind of fungus, and a shriveled-up apple that resembled a shrunken head.

The shelves were worse. Jay held his breath as he threw away two slices of hard, stiff pizza—likely from the box that Mike had ordered a month ago—a bowl of hairy raviolis, and a reeking package of mystery meat, still in the white paper wrap from the butcher. As the latter dropped into the trash with a resounding thud, Archer sprang forward.

“Hey, whatcha doing? That’s my moose.” He reached into the can, pulling the package from the garbage.

“Whoa.” Mike grabbed a dishtowel from the counter and covered his face.

“Your
moose?
” Jay closed the refrigerator and stood in front of it. No way that thing was going back in there.

“Yeah. I shot it with my bow.” Oblivious to the odor, Archer stroked the package tenderly. “For high school graduation my dad took me hunting in Alaska. I shot this giant moose. It was sweet.”

“Arch, you’re in your second year of college. You’ve had that meat—”

“It was in the freezer until recently, and it’s aging,” Archer said defensively. “This is the last package. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

“That occasion’s now,” Jay said, holding up the trash can. “Give it up before someone gets hurt.”

“Really. I’m about to pass out from the smell.” Still holding the towel over his face, Mike edged toward the door.

“I’ll take it to Trish’s tonight and have her fix it.” Archer moved toward the fridge.

Jay stood his ground, folding both arms across his chest. “If the smell doesn’t get her, the first bite will kill you both. Throw it away.”

Archer looked down at the package in his hands. Mike left the kitchen as Trish returned.

“Arch, my car won’t start. Can you come jump it for me? Eew.” She pinched her nose. “What’s that awful smell?”

“Told you,” Jay said.

“It’s my moose,” Archer said, looking hurt. He glanced at Trish. “I thought you got a new battery.”

“I was going to, but they said the old one was fine. Maybe you could come with me this time. I don’t know anything about cars, and—”

“Ah, Trish. Not now. You know I’ve got a ton of homework.”

Since when?
Jay wondered. He’d hardly seen Archer crack a book in the last few weeks. For a journalism major, he seemed to have an extreme lack of required reading and writing. “Did they check the alternator?” Jay asked. Being careful to keep his position in front of the fridge, he began gathering the empty grocery bags from the floor.

Trish shook her head. “What’s that?”

“A lot of times the battery will run down quickly if the alternator is going bad. Come on, Arch. Let’s take a look at it.” Jay shoved the bags in an overflowing drawer and turned toward the door. Archer stood still, continuing to stare at the package in his hands.

“Think you could cook up this meat, Trish?”

No,
Jay mouthed to her, shaking his head.

“I—uh. I could try,” Trish said without enthusiasm. “But not unless I can get home.” She walked into the kitchen, took a bag from the drawer, and held it open in front of Archer.

He dropped the package of moose meat inside. “Great. Seven, then?”

Trish nodded and looked away. Her eyes were beginning to water.

When Archer went to the sink to wash his hands, she sent a pleading glance in Jay’s direction. “Will you come look at my car?”

“Sure.” Jay followed her to the door, waiting for Archer. “Aren’t you coming? You know more about cars than I do.”

Archer hesitated, then finally trotted along behind. The three left the apartment and went down the stairs to the street. Archer pulled his keys out of his pocket and went to get his car from the back parking lot.

Trish was parked in front of their house, and she already had her hood up and the jumper cables on the front seat.

“How will I know if it’s the alternator?” she asked.

“The battery will continue to die because it isn’t getting charged. Once we get your car started, you should take the alternator in and have it tested. When’s the last time you had your car in for any kind of service?” Jay opened the passenger door and took out the cables.

“Ummm—never.” Trish looked dismally at the 1996 Oldsmobile. “The only reason I have it at all is because my grandma can’t drive anymore, so she gave it to me. I have no idea what service or repairs it may have had in the past.”

Archer pulled his bug in front of Trish’s car. Jay handed the cables to him as he got out.

“What’re you giving them to me for?” Archer asked. “I don’t want to get all greasy.”

Jay shrugged. “Just thought you’d want to be the one to help your damsel in distress.”

Grumbling, Archer clamped the cables on Trish’s battery. Stretching the cords as far as they would go, he opened the passenger door of his bug and leaned inside. He popped the back panel out and leaned in, trying to reach the battery, but it was too far away. He backed out of the car and tossed the cables at Jay. “Hold these.”

“Sure.” Jay watched with amusement as Archer maneuvered the bug closer.

When it was sideways and only inches from Trish’s car, Archer climbed in the back seat again and wrestled the alligator clips onto the battery.

“Give it a minute, then try the Olds,” he ordered Trish as he got out, checking the front of his shirt for grease.

Obediently she climbed into her car. Jay turned toward the house.

“Where you going?” Archer demanded.

“To fix myself something to eat before I have to leave for work. I only came out here so you would.”

Trish stuck her head out the window. “Now?”

“I said in a minute,” Archer yelled.

“Give her a break,” Jay said. “She gives
you
enough,” he added quietly.

“Stay out of it,” Archer said. “Like you’d know anything anyway. It’s not as if you’ve got a girl. Try it now,” he called to Trish.

Jay listened as she turned the key and tried the engine once, twice, three times.

“It’s still clicking—won’t even turn over,” Trish said.

“Great,” Archer mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck like the whole thing pained him.

“Does your insurance have towing service?” Jay asked.

“I don’t know.” Trish bit her lip and looked from one man to the other before retreating back into her car.

“Sometimes she doesn’t know anything,” Archer muttered under his breath.

Jay shot him a look. Archer unfastened the cables, slammed the passenger door, hopped in the bug, and drove off to park the car.

Jay walked over to Trish’s window. “He’ll be back in a second. And he’ll help you with whatever you need.”

“I know.” Trish sighed. “I wish he wouldn’t act so irritated about it though.”

Jay looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. Patience and helpfulness aren’t exactly his virtues, are they?”

Trish giggled. “No. And I’m not sure what is.”

Then why are you going out with him?
Jay wanted to ask. “Come on.” He opened her door.

She got out. “How come you don’t have a girlfriend, Jay? Arch says you’re weird, but—”

Jay laughed. “He does, huh?”

Trish winced. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m forever opening my mouth without thinking.”

“No worries,” Jay assured her. “Coming from Arch, that’s a compliment.”

“Well, I think you’re great.” Trish waited for him to close the door and walk beside her back to the apartment. “And I really don’t get why you won’t go out with any of the girls in the ballet company. A lot of them are very nice—and smart, like you are.”

“It never seems to work,” Jay said, thinking of Jane.

Trish looked at him sideways. “What about that piano girl—Sarah? You like her, don’t you?”

Jay shrugged. “I do, but it’s hard getting to know her.”

“Don’t give up,” Trish encouraged. “Ask her to the Halloween party.”

Jay shook his head. “She’d never be able to come—not without her cousin anyway.”

“Invite him, too. There will be enough girls there without dates that I’m sure we could keep him occupied—while you get to know Sarah better, if you know what I mean.” She flashed Jay a smile usually reserved for Archer.

“That’s not what I meant.” He stepped ahead of Trish and held the front door open for her. She stopped before walking through.

“It isn’t, is it? You’re not interested in finding a free bedroom. You’d rather have some free time to find out who her favorite composer is and what classes she’s taking.” Trish looked wistful as she spoke. “How’d you get to be so nice, Jay?”

“I wasn’t always,” he assured her. “And hopefully Archer won’t always be the way he is now. He’ll wake up and realize what it’s all about.”

“I hope you’re right.” She tilted her head back and looked up, gracing him with another pretty smile. “Because I really love him.”

“I know.” For a second Jay felt that old familiar pang of loneliness.

He wasn’t interested in Trish, but he did wonder what it would be like to have someone say that about him. His parents had never said those words that he could recall, nor had any of the string of girls he’d dated in high school and college. And of course, Jane hadn’t felt that way toward him, no matter how strong his feelings for her.

Even with Trish and Archer, Jay could see that one was giving way more than the other.
Is it always that way in a relationship?
What are the odds a guy can actually fall in love with a girl, have her feel the same, and have a good life together?
Given the divorce rate in America, it seemed chances were pretty slim. With things stacked against him from the onset, he wasn’t sure it was worth the effort. Though being alone all the time wasn’t all that great either.