Astronaut.

Jupiter’s words drifted through his brain as they approached the white door at the end of the path. “I want you to meet someone,” she had told him. Noah – still astonished that she was even blessing him with her voice – agreed instantly. His eyes were on her face – or some part of her body, perhaps the small spatter of freckles he had spotted on her collarbone that hadn’t been there before – at all times. He orbited her every word, every motion, a happy satellite by her side.

So, when they stopped on the porch and Jupiter knocked on the door, he seemed not to notice it opening. A soft glow of light bathed Jupiter’s hair, and Noah found himself entranced. The small burst of cool air reminded him that she smelled like sun and flowers.

“Oh, Jupiter!” a voice cried in joy. “Feels like it’s been ages.”

Noah turned his eyes to see a little old woman whom he had met once before. He smiled widely and extended his arms to her.

She shuffled into his embrace, a dusty giggle exiting her lips. “I see you found what you were looking for,” she said, burying her face in his chest.

He held her close, breathing in her old people smell. She was like a mother. “Hi, Miss Mays. I wanted to thank you for your help.” He smiled to Jupiter, then saw her astonished expression. “Oh,” he explained, “I met her when I asked if you still lived next door.”

The elderly woman clucked her tongue and took Jupiter’s hand, giving it several soft pats. “I told you about that, dear, don’t you remember?”

“Oh… well that’s swell. Do you mind if we come in for tea?” Her turquoise eyes sparkled as she betrayed herself, confessing: “I’d love it if we could all talk.”

It was unanimously decided that they move into the backyard, where Miss Mays often sat and listened to the trees. She owned nearly ten chairs, “reserved for visitors” that she never actually had. The ground was lush and bright green, littered with little yellow dandelions. Noah spotted a few white ones, round and leaning to the wind.

Miss Mays went back inside to get the tea, insisting she do it herself in response to the couple’s offers of help. When they were alone, they sat together in silence, each thinking on the other. Were they together again? Would everything go back to normal, or would they have to start all over?

Noah gazed at the empty chairs surrounding them. Before he left, he could have easily sat here with all the people in his life, and everyone have a seat. Since his return, that number had multiplied substantially. He liked it that way.

Jupiter watched the clouds roll by, twisting and spinning above. She remembered all the times it had rained in the past four years. When the sky had finally let go of its hurt for the death of the sun, it rained for a week straight.

Miss Mays returned with a tray of cups, sugars, creams and spices. She liked to experiment with flavors, now that her teeth were too weakened to enjoy the texture of food. The soft tinkling of china accompanied her sweet voice. “What are you two staring at like that? Looks like ghosts have your attention,” she huffed teasingly. When they both turned and began to apologize, she stopped them short. “It’s alright. Now, how sweet would you like your tea?”

Most of the beginning conversation came from Miss Mays’ mouth. She was filling the silence that stood between her two beloved guests with stories and encouragements to jump in anytime. Noah contributed snippets here and there, mostly asking questions to keep her talking. His uncle had a smooth and rustic voice, and hearing Miss Mays talk reminded him of how he had learned to keep the enjoyable sound of someone’s voice going.

“So, do you believe in God?” Religion was powerful enough to turn someone over in their grave.

Taking her cue with a twinkle in her eye, the old woman began. “I do believe in a God, but it’s certainly not a He. God doesn’t have a gender, because sex changes things. It always does, whether you’re a deity or a mortal. Men got strength, women got intelligence. Men look to the future while women linger in the past. Meanwhile, the present is all forgotten. God doesn’t have a gender. God exists in the present, and it’s the one in charge!” She let out a burst of laughter, then sipped her nearly black tea with subdued chuckles. “That says something right there. Why do you think everyone down here is so miserable? Nobody lives in the present. We’re all in control of our own lives, and we waste them wanting a time we don’t have.” Her faintly yellow teeth flashed in a smile. “I’m happy. Have you noticed?”

Jupiter felt like her heart had been grabbed and held tightly in someone’s hand. I want to be happy, a voice cried from within her. She leaned forward in her chair. “How do you do that?” She didn’t notice her eagerness, but decided to clarify. “I mean… forget the past?” Her eyes flitted toward Noah, and then returned to Miss Mays, who smiled.

“Jupiter, dear…” She took Jupiter’s hand in both of hers. “It’s not that hard to be happy. You just haven’t wanted to let go yet.”

“Oh…” Jupiter ran the words over and over in her mind, like listening to a record as it skipped. She didn’t feel Noah’s eyes on her, and she didn’t hear his silent wondering.

“What about when you die?” Noah asked, shifting his gaze from the woman he loved. “What do you think will happen?”

“You go first,” she quipped. “I just told you all that, now you share some.”

A songbird flew past their area, music fading through the tree leaves and sunshine. Noah leaned back in his seat, lowering his eyes to the grass. The leaves shivered in the wind. “I don’t know,” he muttered.

“Oh, come on. If you had to guess, what would you believe?”

“Well…” He sighed and looked up at a solitary cloud drifting above them. “If I had to guess, I would say… nothing happens. Life just ends. That’s what I would believe.” Silence descended on them, smothering their internal voices as the breeze tickled their skin.

Jupiter was the one to speak first. “I don’t think that’s right,” she said quietly. “Just because someone dies doesn’t mean they’re not there anymore.” Turning her aquamarine eyes to Noah, she felt the setting sun gently touch her hair. “Lora Joan is still alive, in my head.” The defiant crinkle between her eyebrows made Miss Mays giggle.

“You are living in the past,” she told her with a smile. “Let go, Jupiter. You have to let go to move forward.”

When they had finished their tea, hugs were exchanged. As the couple was exiting the front door, Miss Mays took Noah’s elbow and whispered to his ear: “Jupiter is different now. Don’t love who she used to be. Fall in love with who she is today.” He took the words and tucked them into a pocket on the inside of his skull, giving her a reassuring nod before he followed Jupiter down the path.

The wordlessness stretched between them until they reached her kitchen. It was dark now. Their minds were working slowly, turning and processing what it meant to be alone together with these thoughts in their heads.

Awkwardly, Noah searched for a conversation. “Miss Mays is nice,” he offered.

“You’re right,” was Jupiter’s reply.

He was determined to make it last longer. “How often do you talk to her?”

“About once a week. Why did you hug her?” Her eyes weren’t looking at him, but he could see the fire in them as she spoke. “You only met her once before.”

Noah frowned and thought of how to sooth her hackles. “She feels like a mother to me,” he said in his defense. “There aren’t many old ladies in my life, so I’m very glad she’s here.” He had laid it all out: his feelings, his intimate reasons, and his determination to take no bullshit from her, just as she wouldn’t stand it from him.

Jupiter pursed her lips, slightly annoyed by his behavior. What was he trying to prove? He was very passive aggressive about getting a point across. She remembered that about him, among other things. She, however, liked to go straight through the bush. “So what’s all that ‘nothing happens when we die’ bologna?”

“I don’t believe that, necessarily. It was a what-if. Like, what if today was yesterday?” He paused. “Well, it’s not. Yesterday is gone.” He averted his golden eyes, hiding behind the curling ends of his dark hair. “Miss Mays is right, Jupiter.”

She completely ignored everything he said, still intent on her own goal. “No, answer my question. You said that if you believed anything, it would be that nothing happens after we die. Why would you believe that?”

“Why are you so mad? It’s just what I would believe. All the other explanations for the afterlife seem too unlikely. Nothing about them says to me: I’m more than a fairy tale.” He shrugged and fidgeted with the pocket of his pants. “This is America. I have rights.”

She let out a frustrated sigh. “Noah, do you really believe that Lora Joan is completely gone? That she’s not in a better place, somewhere?” A little light shone in her eyes. “What if she’s part of a rainbow?” she whispered.

Noah tried not to roll his eyes. Her hopes were simply too much to ask of the universe. “I do believe she’s in a better place,” he said, drawing her attention. “She’s in our memories.”

Her nose crinkled as she turned away. She had already learned this lesson; she wanted nothing more to do with it.

“Jupiter?”

Her eyes shifted to him. “Yes, Noah?”

“Do… you think you could love me again?” The only real question in his mind, finally presented in his golden eyes.

She was almost too stunned to speak. “That all depends. Will you abandon me again?” she flung in his face.

He didn’t lower his gaze, though he desperately wanted to. Now was the time to be strong. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.

“Well there’s your answer!” She threw her hands up like he was a lost cause. “How can you be so uncertain? Why can’t you know anything for sure? Do you even know if you ever really loved me?”

He leaned forward, his stare becoming intense. “I love y- er…” he faltered as he remembered what Miss Mays had said. Don’t love who she used to be.

“See!?” Jupiter cried, rising from her chair in a flurry. “You don’t even know that. You’re clueless!”

He stood as well, coming a step toward her. “Come on, Jupiter. It’s been four years. We’re completely different people from what we remember of each other. I mean, I’m coated in tattoos, you smoke cigarettes. I want the old you back, but that’s not you anymore. So I don’t know if I love you. I don’t know you anymore.”

His earnestness subsided suddenly, as did her anger. They stood like two trees in an empty field, so motionless that time did not affect them. Jupiter moved first, walking slowly past him. The space between them became smaller and thinner, until finally it didn’t exist anymore. When her shoulder touched his; when her elbow brushed against his; when their fingers touched, time began again.

“Jupiter,” he said, giving in to her gentle contact.

She turned to him, staring into his face. “Yes?” She was struggling to let go, twisting to keep her balance on the top of the fence. In his face she saw her younger lover, less tan and gentler with his guitar and her heart.

“Jupiter, look at me.”

“I am,” she said with a frown.

Noah shook his head and shaggy locks. “You’re looking right through me.”

Her brow furrowed as she blinked repeatedly. She lifted a hand to rub at her eyes, then looked up at him. His curling hair draped down over his ears and forehead, teasingly reaching to his eyebrows. It was nearly black. She glanced down to his exposed arms, where tattoos smiled and waved at her. “Are there any in other places?” she said, looking to his eyes that seemed as though they were forged from the sun’s rays.

A faint smile tweaked his lips. “Yes. Would you like to see?”

She felt the danger creeping up in her throat and loved the flavor. “Yes.”

His smile grew wider, his fingers lifting to pluck his shirt’s buttons apart. He paused when he reached the last one, looking to her face.

She gestured for him to continue as she pulled his shirt apart, her eyes feasting on the ink vine that snaked across his collar and down his chest. She stepped around him, pulling the shirt off his shoulders and helping it slide down his arms. As the cloth revealed skin, she documented each tensing muscle. There was a small yellow bird taking flight over the mountain of his shoulder. At the top of his spine, there was a small sun with wavering rays. Her fingers crept under his hair, lifting to reveal a line written along his hairline. ’Je suis juste là.’ “What does it say?” she asked, her finger tracing the curling words.

“I’m right here,” he muttered, his head tilted forward.

Jupiter looked down and noticed what seemed to be a kiss staining his skin. She lowered her head and pressed her mouth to the lip-shaped tattoo, finding with pleasure that a shudder rippled through his body. “What’s this one for?” she asked, tracing her finger up his spine.

He shifted a little uncomfortably, looking over his shoulder at her. “You already know,” he replied, barely above a whisper. She touched his back in a way she never had before, like she wanted to crawl right inside his skin and breathe with his lungs, and it pulled shivers from the depths of his body. He felt her fingertips going over the design that lay in the small of his back. Each individual petal of the water lily that she traced was visible in his mind’s eye.

“Why did you get this one?” she wondered out loud, her hand sliding up toward his shoulder.

He turned to her and pulled her hand to his heart, where a small solar system peeked between her knuckles. “I don’t remember.”

Her disappointment lasted only long enough for her to decide she didn’t like the taste, and let the emotion go. “When’s the last time you kissed someone?” she questioned, looking to his luscious lips with a touch of innocent envy.

There was no shame or embarrassment in his words. “About seven months ago.” His eyes followed hers, almost wary to hope. “You?”

She smiled, but there was no malice in her gaze. “Four years.” She pulled him closer, tasting the breath that left his lips. “Do you love me?”

Their eyes met, only inches apart. “I don’t know,” he replied without hesitance, though he trailed off in confusion.

“Do you want me?”

“Yes,” he said immediately, and watched a pleased smile cross her features. He returned, “Do you want me?”

During the second it took her to answer, Noah counted the pores that sparkled on her cheek. The darkness of night was close around them, thick like a blanket. The small rays of moonlight that lit their faces seemed to be the only light in the world, illuminating each in the other’s eyes.

“I do want you,” she said. “And… I think I can let go.”