How a Star Falls (5 page)

For the first time since he’d graduated from college nearly three years ago, Derrick stayed at his parents’ house for two nights in a row. When he wandered out to the kitchen that Saturday morning, only his mom was there to greet him.

His mom gave him a curious look over the spoonful of milk and cereal she held to her lips. “The girls must still be asleep. Thought you would be, too.” After a moment or two of crunching, she asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Derrick leaned against the counter and gazed out the kitchen window at the empty flower box. “Nothing’s going on, Mom.”

When she remained silent, he glanced back at her and hefted a world-weary sigh. “Fine. So I met Brielle a couple of days ago. She needed a place to stay, so I offered her the couch.”

He waited, banging his knee against the cabinets, but his mom offered no protest so far, so he forged ahead. “Scott was his usual jerky self—times ten—so I thought it was safer for her here.”

The spoon clanked, and she scooted the bowl across the counter in the direction of the sink. “What did Scott do?”

“Nothing. But he might have, if I hadn’t woken up.”

She folded her hands in front of her on the counter. He could feel her steady stare, but he didn’t want to meet her eyes. Eventually, her words crossed the counter. “And you haven’t been back to the apartment.” She tapped her fingernails on the Formica. “So what are you going to do? And what about Brielle?”

She was being awfully patient with him. He turned and caught her gaze just as she began, “You know, you really ought to...”

“Mom, please.” He pushed away from the counter. “Stop trying to solve my problems for me. I’m a grown man.” And why did simply saying that make him feel like he was eight years old again? He wiped his palms on his jeans—too frustrated to stop the nervous habit.

His mom’s voice lowered. “I told you rooming with Scott would be a mistake.”

He spun on his heel and headed for the dining room, sick of the perfect gleam of the kitchen and all the obvious ways he didn’t belong in it.

He sensed his mom behind him as he stopped and faced the front door. The ocean peered at him through the blinds over the nearest window, and he wished he was on the other side—walking down the street toward the Hammond Trail, only music in his ears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just know that there’s something better for you than this.”

“Than what, Mom?” His hand fisted over the top rung of the nearest chair. “Better than honest work? Better than supporting myself and saving money by living with a friend?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

Before his mom could explain further, Chloe came rushing into the room with Lulu. “Hey, Derr! Can’t believe you’re still here.”

He hid his anger with a smirk and bent down to pet the Husky. The dog quivered with excitement as he ran his hands through her gray fur and bent his head down to meet her bright, blue-eyed gaze. Eyes like...

“What a sweet dog,” Brielle spoke from somewhere above him.

He peered up at her and caught her shining smile just before Lulu pushed her wet nose against his cheek and gave him a lick. “Ugh. Okay, enough love.” A gentle but firm shove gave him enough space to stand.

Trisha walked down the stairs, likely just coming from her bedroom, given that she was still in her pajamas.

Suddenly, the air seemed a little too thick and sweet as he realized he was surrounded by females. “Where’s Dad?”

“You know he often has to work on the weekends.” There was a question in his mom’s voice.

Yeah. He had forgotten that his dad’s work for a local Internet service provider often kept him busy, even on a Saturday.

Would that be his fate, too?

“You don’t have to work today, do you?” Chloe kept on petting Lulu as the dog wove around her legs.

“Nope.”
Thank goodness.
In the past he’d played his guitar at a few cafés on the weekends in order to make some extra money, but sometime in the last few months he’d stopped. It had felt like some cruel joke—like a forever lesser version of his dreams—and he was no longer amused.

“We should do something then.” Chloe’s voice was bright, her eyes eager. For a moment, she looked to be all of twelve again, instead of fifteen. Even Trisha gave him her famous puppy-dog pout. The guilt their reactions caused tasted bitter.

But something minty—like a Christmas remnant—seemed to hover on his tongue when he discovered Brielle smiling at him, urging him with her eyes to go along with his family. He swallowed. “You’ll come, too?”

Brielle nodded. “Of course.”

His mom offered him a forgiving smile and his sisters squealed as Brielle asked, “Umm, where exactly are we going?”

∞∞∞

Derrick caught bits and pieces of the conversation Chloe was having with Brielle in the backseat—something about some boy in Chloe’s math class, and the art project she had to complete. Trisha sat in the front, telling him about her science classes from the previous semester at UC Berkeley, and the classes she’d be starting later this month. He listened with divided attention until Trisha said, “I can tell you’re about as interested as Chloe is.”

He looked over at her before glancing in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, sis. I was listening.”

“Uh-huh.”

He checked his speed as he entered the freeway safety corridor on the outskirts of Eureka. Why was he such a horrible brother? “Your Biology class sounds interesting.”

Only his youngest sister’s chatter from the backseat greeted him. Then, in a mutter he had to strain to hear, Trisha replied, “You always did like Biology.”

He sensed her turning toward him, playing with the ends of her dark hair. “You really helped me understand it in high school. Why didn’t you take more life science classes at HSU?”

Because he hadn’t wanted to go to Humboldt State University. He’d resented the lack of scholarships that made it more practical to live at home and attend college locally. And in some sort of twisted rebellion, he’d determined not to take any more “frivolous” classes than he had to in order to finish his general ed. Funny how Biology had seemed frivolous compared to his relentless pursuit of a music major that had gotten him all of nowhere.

The melancholy thoughts translated into an “I don’t know” and a shrug that he offered to Trisha. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he was thinking in college, beyond dreaming things he had no right to dream and dating a girl he should have known better than to date.

So much wasted time.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he drove toward the other end of the biggest town in the county—population: 25,000 or so.

“Why don’t you come see us more often? You live barely ten minutes away.”

Somehow, another “I don’t know” and a shrug didn’t seem likely to cut it this time. “The truth?”

Trisha snorted. “Well, yeah, that’d be nice.”

Rain started sprinkling down on the windshield.
Wonderful. Thank you once again, Humboldt County.
He sighed. “I need to find my place. Have something important to show Mom and Dad so they’d stop telling me what I should be doing instead.”

Too late he realized that he shouldn’t say such things to his younger sister.

Was it his imagination, or were Chloe and Brielle talking more quietly in the back?

Trisha tossed her hair. “That’s silly, Derrick. Parents will always do that no matter what.”

“Easy for you to say. They adore you. The pre-med student, on her way to becoming Dr. Knolane, savior of lives and all-around best child of the year.”

“Derrick! Don’t be stupid. You know they’re proud of you.”

His knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white, and his shoulders inched up to his ears in agitation. “Proud of what?” When Trisha didn’t respond right away, he huffed out a laugh. “I’ll make ’em proud someday. Until then, I’d rather not constantly be reminded of my failures.”

Trisha remained silent, and his guilty thoughts drowned out Chloe and Brielle’s conversation as he drove the rest of the way to the Headwaters Forest Reserve, exiting the freeway and winding through ranches and past the road to the Boy Scouts camp before parking at the entrance to the trail. Chloe practically leaped out of the car, while Trisha slid out of her seat and slammed the passenger door behind her. Brielle remained for a moment, catching his gaze in the rearview mirror. Her blue eyes shone with compassion and empathy, as if she understood his feelings. Which seemed ridiculous, but felt comforting nevertheless.

“You ever going to tell me who you are?” he asked quietly.

She gave him an almost sad little smile as she unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car.

Derrick joined the girls and locked the car after making sure everyone had their sweaters. It was still sprinkling, but around here, if they waited for a clear day whenever they wanted to walk, they’d never get much exercise.

He led the way across the parking lot to the trail’s entrance.

“What is this place?” Brielle asked, her golden hair framing her face beneath the borrowed sweater’s blue hood.

“Headwaters Forest,” Trisha chimed in. “It’s a beautiful trail.”

“And there used to be this old logging town here,” Chloe added, sounding pleased to be the first to share the fact. “What was the name again, Derr?”

“Falk.” He had done a project on it in a history class once upon a time. It always felt a little odd whenever they spotted remaining artifacts from the town—like the cement stoop of the caretaker’s place, or the old shed. Just bits and pieces of a place where people had once lived and thrived.

They walked in companionable silence for a while, the rain growing steady but not too harsh. He stopped at every sign along the way so Brielle could read about the plant life and the history of the place. When they got close to the old building that now served as an education center, Chloe ran ahead—probably too antsy with their slow pace. He shook his head as Trisha took off after her, their sisterly laughter clutching at something lonely lodged in his chest.

“You know...” Brielle began.

He turned around and walked backward, watching her as she huddled inside her sweater and stared at the wet leaves on the paved path. When she shrugged her shoulders and didn’t say anything else, he asked, “What do I know?”

She met his gaze and gave him a little grin. “Lots of stuff, I’m sure. Just maybe not the stuff you should know.”

He stopped and crossed his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She stopped, too, right in front of him. “I’ve barely met your family, but I can already tell that they adore you and wish you were around more often.” She rubbed her arms, her steady gaze faltering. “Maybe it’s okay not to be the best at everything.”

Before he could butt in with some inevitably rude retort—a sour note waiting at the edge of his tongue—she gestured toward the woods on her right. “Think about a town like Falk. The man who founded the town had to have been pretty brilliant and successful. And I’m sure there were some awesome loggers. But what about the people who cooked meals or ran the train or whatever? The town wouldn’t be complete without them.” Her voice floated off to a near-whisper as she asked, “And what about the ones who ran the store? What would the town have been like without them?”

He sighed, hating to burst her optimistic little bubble. “Brielle, it’s not like
anyone
couldn’t have done those jobs. They were completely replaceable.”

She appeared hurt by his observation, lines growing pronounced in her forehead. “Yeah, someone else
could
have done the job. But they didn’t. Everyone’s work was important. Each person and family played a part in this town’s story.” Her hands waved as she spoke. “Don’t you see? Success isn’t just the hand that chops down the tree used to build the home. It’s also the hand that feeds that man, or the smile that sustains him.”

Her words resonated within him, even if his mind told him she was being overly sentimental and silly. “If you’re trying to comfort me about my job, I appreciate it. But working at a dying music store is hardly building anything or feeding anyone. It’s just a worthless paycheck and nothing more.”

Without warning, her mouth turned down and she shoved past him. “It will always be that, then, if that’s how you always see it,” she called over her shoulder as she stomped ahead to catch up to his sisters.

He spun around to follow after her, but he couldn’t find an opening to continue the conversation and try to make things right before Brielle reached the education center, which was closed for the day.

“There’s a sign about the train up here,” Chloe said to Brielle. He watched as the two of them walked across the gravel to the large board with pictures and information. Trisha came from where she’d been leaning against the building and stood on Brielle’s other side. His sisters talked to Brielle for a few moments, and her shoulders noticeably relaxed little by little as her laugh returned.

In that instant, he determined to try harder never to steal that beautiful sound away again.

He flipped off his green hood and tilted his head back. Eyes closed, he let the rain wash over him, along with the sweet voices. Man, he really had missed his sisters. It had been too long since they’d spent time together outside of an awkward holiday.