His health suffered in unimaginable ways for a man his age. Heart disease at thirty. Liver and renal breakdown at forty. He lost the house they’d bought, moving into a small apartment. He lost job after job. He lost every friend he’d ever had. But he didn’t lose Julie. He was back in his apartment, in his recliner. The clock on the VCR beside the TV said it was just midnight again. Steve breathed like a struggling locomotive. Julie stood before him, her hand just having left his. ‘Merry Christmas,’ she said to him. Decades of sadness hung off her voice. ‘Yeah,’ he said. She backed away into the shadows. The flickering light dimmed. ‘See you next year,’ she said, fading, fading away. ‘Unless…’ Steve snorted again. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Unless.’ But he knew he didn’t have the guts to make it right. ‘See you next year,’ he said. And she was gone. On his way back to bed he grabbed the bottle from the kitchen and emptied it down his throat before lying down. Julie’s last ‘Merry Christmas’. Fortunately that was said in passing, and forgot ton, as she shared what she knew of the sky Roger was looking at.Susan's house stood on the crest of a small hill that slopped down into town. Behind her another rolling hill and behind that a valley. It was a spectacular view and a good reason to be together on that sturdy platform alone. Their first kiss came when she shared the eyepiece with him tracking a meteor arcing across their part of the sky one night.It was that meteor that pushed the telescope towards the horizon bringing that part of town where Roger lived into the bottom edge of the lens. He moved it further when Susan left for another thermos of coco. Roger found his room while Susan stood watching the water boil and, of all things, his aunt clearly folding his diapers into his drawer.His shock was almost overwhelming. More so as he watched in horror over the detail of what he was looking at. If Susan had ever looked in that direction, and at those particular times....
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