“I don’t get how far that is,” Erika confessed. “I mean, I know it’s far, but, like, what does that really mean?”
David pointed to one of the brightest stars. “That star there is Vega. My dad taught me that.”
All were quiet for a moment. David’s father had died the year before, in the spring, and the mere mention of him felt fraught, the wound still fresh.
“That star is twenty-five light-years from Earth, meaning the light that we see right now is actually older than us by a decade.”
Erika exhaled. “I feel so small,” she marveled.
Julia could relate.
“The ancients knew to revere the heavens,” David said. “They understood that our lives are fleeting, but the universe is vast and powerful.”
For someone who could be egotistical, pushy, and loved making inappropriate sexual innuendos, David often surprised Julia with his depth.
“Let’s make a wish,” Julia suggested, “to that star, and in twenty-five years, when the light finally reaches us, it’ll come true.”
“Oooh, I love it,” Erika cooed. “I’ll go first. I wish—”
“You can’t tell everyone your wish,” David cut in. “Then it won’t come true. Everyone knows that.”
But they weren’t separate people, not in Julia’s mind. Tonight, three had become one.
“We belong to each other and to the lake,” she said, her words coating them like the droplets of water clinging to their skin.
“Fine, fine,” David relented. “But I’ll go first. I wish to be a millionaire.”
“How unselfish of you,” said Julia with a laugh. “You sounded so deep a moment ago.”
She meant it as a joke, but her comment struck a nerve.
“People are unreliable. Money is not,” David retorted, a catch in his voice.
Julia reached for his hand, thinking maybe it was the loss of his father, the shocking reality that our lives are transient, that made David yearn for riches. It was certainly a safer choice, offering endless adventure and distraction, and never leading to heartbreak.
“In twenty-five years, I’m not sure how far a million will get you,” said Erika. “What about you, Jules?”
“Me?… Hmm… I’ll go for world peace.”
David chuckled. “I think we need a star over a thousand light-years away for that to come true.”
They all laughed.
“Now you, Erika,” said Julia.
Erika fell silent. In the quiet, Julia connected to the rhythm of the night, the soothing sound of the wind through the leaves, the brilliant hum of life, the air cool and rejuvenating. But mostly she felt gratitude for her friends, the people who meant the most to her, outside of her parents.
“I wish that, twenty-five years from now, we’re just like this,” Erika said, burrowing even closer to her friends, her voice brimmingwith hopefulness. “Together. That we’ll always be here for each other, no matter what. That we won’t let each other down, not ever.”
Now look at them. David was off with Fiona, all over her as if clinging to a life preserver.
Meanwhile, Erika and Rick kept to themselves, continuing to behave as though nothing was amiss. They lounged on chairs, wrapped in cozy blankets, sucking down their respective drinks, and chatting quietly.
This wasn’t how the first night was supposed to go. They should be in a circle, trumpeting like a gaggle of geese as everyone played catch-up. Even Taylor and Lucas had caught the bad mojo. Those two kept their distance like a divorcing couple. Julia always thought Lucas carried a torch for Taylor, but maybe her daughter had to douse the flame and now it was awkward.
Christian set his drink down, his lips forming a grimace. “This thing tastes worse each year,” he said. “A fly would find it too sweet, especially without the booze.”
Julia agreed. The cocktails weren’t as good as she remembered. Had the recipe changed, or had they? She stood up—enough was enough.
