I got up from my space on the couch and put the book face down on a side table.I had prepared a pasta salad for lunch earlier and sat down to finish it at the dining room table alone now.
On the wall over the table hung a calendar currently open to July and displaying a large picture of a lighthouse a short drive south of here.I’d penciled in only a single event in my time here.
Next week, my parents planned to stop for a visit as a part of a road trip through New England.I’d have to find a way to introduce Aster to them and give him a cover story he would be willing and able to own up to: how we met, what he did for a living, and the precise nature of our relationship.I might jokingly tell them about how I’d recruited Aster as my personal assistant when I found him.For a moment, the thought sounded coherent.Then I looked down at my salad and heaved a sigh.
I wasn’t ready for a visit from my parents.I wouldn’t have anything to tell them because I hadn’t been doing anything.Aster had achieved a masterpiece without any real involvement from me.Even if he let me put my name under the title and offered me the full rights and credits to the work, one question bothered me over and over: the question of whether Aster’s book counted as mine.
When I finished my meal and wiped my dishes clean in the sink, I returned to a silent living room.Aster still sat behind the desk.His hands were clapped over his ears and his eyes closed like he wanted to block something out.
For three seconds I stood in the doorway, torn between wanting to ask what tormented him and wanting to stay away for my own peace of mind.
Then he turned.The shadows under his eyes stood out in the distant lighting.Say something to me,he said.
“Maybe I could go out for dinner alone and give you some space,” I said, realizing my options had never been different.
Please don’t!he snapped, quietly, his nostrils flaring but his eyes darting away as if in shame.I mean, I don’t want you to leave me.
“I’m not doing anything,” I said.“We’ve been working on this book for ages, and I still don’t know where it’s going.What purpose do I have hanging out here?”
A layer of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.It’s because it’s your book.Our book together.The book is a symbol of our bond.And it needs you as much as it needs me.
“A symbol?”
You’re all I have, Stella.Don’t you see that?If you go away… I know you’ll be all right.That you can take care of yourself.But every time you leave my presence, I become less without you.I can’t stand up for myself.I can’t protect myself from everything, and at this point, if anything happens to me, it will be better if I had never existed.Stay with me.Promise you’ll stay with me.I want to last, too.
“What?”I asked.
He bristled.What I’m trying to say is that I need you.I need the feel of your presence and the sound of your voice.So I want you to tell me something.Anything.Your plans for the weekend, your life story.I want to hear a voice that isn’t my own and remember what it sounds like.
I hesitated as I regrouped my thoughts and tried to push aside my anxiety.“My parents are coming by next week.”
Your parents?His jaw tightened and he looked sharply away from me at a crack in the floor.That’s not what I meant.I wanted you to throw yourself at me… not drag me in the direction of someone else.
“It could be the perfect change of pace,” I said, flipping on a light switch and stepping further into the room.“They’re road-tripping through New England, and they plan to spend the night here.Or in town, anyway.Maybe we can find a place in town and take them out to eat together.”
Aster closed the lid of the laptop and stood.His shoulders were rigid, and he wiped the sweat from his face in an effort to look calm.I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t involve anyone else in our summer,he said.It was supposed to be just the two of us.No one else.
“You just said you wanted to hear other voices.”
I said I want to hear a voice that isn’t my own,he corrected.That’s you.I want to hear your voice.Not the yammering dialog from a pair of tourists.We need to be alone right now.Call it off.
“My parents and I set this up when I first came here,” I said.“Before then.It’s only for a day.”
Call it off,Aster repeated.If your parents come, you’ll show them around.They’ll shower you with doting compliments and pull you away with them.As long as they’re here, you’ll be their daughter.Not the writer who called me here.You’ll be no one.And I’ll be?—
He covered his face and shook his head.
I crossed my arms.The crickets outside grew louder.
Aster sighed.He crossed his arms, briefly matching my own pose and fidgeted with the sleeves.This was turning into another rejection—I could sense it in advance, and I braced myself.I fear I wouldn’t properly exist in their presence.It wouldn’t be the same without just you and me.I wouldn’t be the same.I’d disappear...
“Disappear into what?”I said.
I don’t know.Wherever it is we go when the universe washes her hands of us.The shadows.
I closed my eyes as I tried to turn his fear into something I could comprehend.Aster had worked himself too hard and didn’t know how to cope with a change in schedule.“They won’t be here until Wednesday of next week,” I said.“There’s a lot of time between now and then.I’ll be sure to include you, besides.You won’t disappear as long as I need you.And I will.I do.”
That’s not enough.
