Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Little Sophie sees me first. Her face lights up like Christmas morning.
The firepit blazes, and the corrupted Saint himself relaxes against the cushions of his chair nearby, his arms outstretched with a beer loosely clasped in his fingers.
The star of the show, though, is a large, fancy-looking telescope perched in the middle of the deck on a tripod.
It gleams in the firelight, and there’s a stool positioned next to it.
“Margot!” Sophie chirps, coming toward me in those oversized shoes and waving her hand. “Wanna have a look through my telescope? The skies are so amazing out here. Nothing like back home.”
There’s no way I can say no to this adorable request.
Actually… I don’t think I’ve ever looked through a telescope before. Certainly not something this big and fancy.
“She’s obsessed with the skies because nothing’s cool enough for her on the ground,” Dan tells me with the familiar superiority of a cheesy older brother, even though they’re twins. He still pretends like he’s older and wiser, and that makes me grin.
“Am not!” Sophie sticks out her tongue at him.
“Are.”
“Guys, enough,” Kane barks. “No bickering on the patio or we’re packing it in.”
“We weren’t fighting, Dad. We were debating,” Dan says.
“A debate has nuanced arguments. You just brought an argument, boy.”
Dan rolls his eyes as he sinks back in his chair, putting earbuds in as he prepares to play his little portable drum pad. Quietly this time, thank God.
“Did you know you can see Jupiter tonight?” Sophie asks. “It’s super bright. Come look.”
Kane’s eyes never waver, tracing my every movement.
Don’t feel anything.
Pretend he isn’t there.
That’s insanely hard when his emerald stare rivals the fire, and there’s something like a whisper of a smile toying around his mouth.
At least I was right—he doesn’t seem mad.
I don’t want to think about what else is running through his head as he watches me.
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.