Turn Darkly (2 page)

After several seconds, Regan stepped back, and resigned herself to the protein bar and bottled water she had in her van. Turning toward the street, she heard the hinges of the door creak. Pivoting around, Regan saw a woman standing in the doorway.

The woman was Regan’s height and more or less her same age, with a similar athletic build. Her hair was black and cut short, accentuating her angular features and her light blue eyes. Her skin was flawless, and tan with a hint of red at her cheeks.

“Hey.” Regan was struggling to focus. The woman in front of her was beautiful.

“We’re closed.” The woman stated casually.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Regan nodded. “Yeah. Sorry to bother you.” She forced her feet to move, and stepped off the porch onto the sidewalk.

“I can make you something real quick, but you’ll have to take it with you.” The woman offered.

Regan turned, and smiled. “That would be great. Thanks.”

She followed the woman into the restaurant, and sat on one of five wooden stools lining a narrow counter.

The woman handed Regan a laminated menu. “I’ve already turned the grill off, so please stick to the sandwiches and salads.”

“Of course.” Regan skimmed the menu. “Ah, the turkey and Swiss would be fine, but can I sub the mayo for yellow mustard?” The woman nodded. Regan slid the menu across the counter, and with a broad smile extended her hand. “I’m Regan, by the way, and thanks again for doing this.”

A faint smile found the woman’s lips, and then quickly disappeared as she took Regan’s hand in hers. “Lily.”

Regan nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Lily turned, and after pulling several containers from a cooler that ran the length of the back counter, began assembling Regan’s sandwich. “Do you want something to drink?” The woman didn’t look back as she asked.

“I’ve got a case of water in my van, so no worries.” Regan tried not to be too obvious in her admiration of the woman, but even in a pair of faded jeans, a threadbare red t-shirt, and a stained white apron, she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen someone so beautiful.

Lily turned around suddenly, and Regan quickly averted her eyes from the woman’s backside. A flush of heat found Regan’s neck and face, and she conspicuously cleared her throat. “Ah, maybe I will take that drink. Just some ice water.”

Reaching for a glass to her left, Lily frowned as she took note of Regan’s stare. Sliding the lid of the ice bin back, the woman scooped ice into the glass, filled it with water, and without a word placed it on the counter in front of Regan.

“Your sandwich will be ready in a minute.”

Regan felt like an ass. She had never been one to leer, but not looking at Lily felt akin to closing her eyes in an art museum.
She’s not an object to be admired, shithead.
The self-chastising brought an additional wave of shame over Regan, and she nervously sipped her water, hoping she could get out of this without making a complete fool of herself.

“Four ninety five.” Lily handed Regan a small white paper bag.

“What?” Regan looked blankly at the woman.

Lily frowned. “The sandwich. Four dollars and ninety five cents, please.”

“Right. Sorry.” Regan slid off the stool, and fished around in her pockets. “Shit.” She looked up at Lily apologetically. “I left my wallet in my van, but give me two minutes and I can go get it.”

The woman looked suspiciously at Regan. “I’ll time you.”

Grinning, Regan ran out of the restaurant and toward her van. Grabbing the wallet from her backpack, she shoved it in her back pocket and ran back toward the Last Stop.

Nearing the store front, she saw Lily standing on the front porch, the white bag with Regan’s sandwich in her hand, and a tall, dark haired man looking up at her from the sidewalk.

As Regan approached, she heard the man speaking in a harsh tone. “Don’t get attached.”

Regan hesitated, not wanting to interrupt an obviously tense conversation. “Hey. Sorry about this.” Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled her wallet out and handed Lily a twenty dollar bill.

“Let me get your change.” Lily handed Regan the bag.

Holding her hands up, Regan shook her head. “No. Please keep it. You’ve saved me from starvation.” She glanced at the man, who stood looking intently at her. “Hi. Regan.” She extended her hand to the stranger.

Looking at her hand, and then back at Regan’s slightly flushed face, he smiled. His teeth were perfectly aligned and a vivid white against his tan skin. “Trent Sexton. I’m Lily’s older brother.” Though the resemblance was clear, the man’s posture and tone made him significantly less appealing than his sister.

Nodding, Regan shook the man’s hand quickly, and then stepped back. “Nice to meet you.” Looking at Lily, she raised the bag. “Thanks again.”

Turning, Regan quickly walked back toward her van. The encounter with Trent was leaving her unsettled, with no real reason why. Now, standing in front of Vera’s store, she was more uncertain than ever if she should stay in Howell, or take her chances in Addison’s dormitory.

The astronomy field was populated mostly by men. For the most part, the few women Regan had worked with over the years had said their male colleagues were respectful. Still, she hardly thought it was fair of her to ask a group of men to live with a lone woman for two months. Regan considered her options, and sadly came up with very few.

Deciding it was best for her and her colleagues, Regan grabbed her bag from the van, and headed toward Vera’s. Her clothes in one hand, a very expensive turkey sandwich in the other, she was determined to get through the next two months and on to the rest of her life.

“You took Jose’s spot, right?” William McCale was Addison Observatory’s support astronomer. He was a short, stout man in his late fifties. His face was slightly pock-marked, and his thinning hair had a reddish hue to it. He was wearing a pair of blue jean shorts, and a black t-shirt that read
old enough to remember when Pluto was a planet
.

“I did. Dumb luck, really.” Regan stood with her backpack slung over one shoulder, and her brown leather laptop bag over the other.

“I hope everything works out with his wife.” William frowned as he walked toward a row of narrow desks.

Regan nodded and followed the man. She hated that her good fortune had come at the cost of another’s. Jose Moya was a decent man who, even after finding out his thirty three year old wife had ovarian cancer, had still been considerate enough to reach out to Regan about taking the time he had booked at Addison. In return, the planets had literally aligned, and the skies she needed coincided with Jose’s block.

Regan was fortunate the path that had brought her to the middle of West Texas had been more direct than most of her counterparts. Since she was thirteen, astronomy had captivated her. She remembered sitting in her doctor’s office with a terrible head cold, and reading an article in
Scientific America
by Carl Sagan.

Her eyes had filled with tears as she read,
our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark.
Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.

Her fascination with the science surrounding the very reason for existence had only grown over the years. She had found physics and astronomy to be humbling in how they challenged both her character and her intellect.

Regan’s heart had sunk when she had submitted a telescope time allocation request to the Addison selection committee six months ago, and had been told the earliest she would be slotted in was the summer of 2015.

This had meant she wouldn’t be able to complete her dissertation until the fall, delaying her doctorate until the spring of 2016. As a result, she would have lost her opportunity to intern at the William Herschel telescope, located on the island of La Palma in the Canary Islands.

“You can put your stuff in this desk.” William handed her a small silver key. “We’re a pretty honest bunch around here, but there are daily novices that come through, and I can’t speak for them; so it’s best to lock up.”

Regan took the key, and slipped it into her front pocket before putting her bags down on the desk. “Noted.”

“I looked at your submission form, viewing schedule, and your target catalogue; so the instrumentation is calibrated accordingly.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled a pack of Wrigley’s WinterFresh gum out and offered Regan a piece. “Dark matter?”

Regan’s brow arched as she unwrapped the silver foil from the gum. “
Cold
dark matter composition.”

William nodded. “RAMBO?”

Regan couldn’t help but smile at the acronym for
Robust Associations of Massive Baryonic Objects
, and how her mind always associated it with the melodramatic 1982 Sylvester Stallone movie instead of going to physics where it belonged.

“WIMP.” Regan folded the piece of gum in her mouth, a faint smile finding her lips at how physicists found their humor in the strangest places. The first time she had read about
Weakly Interacting Massive Particles
she had wondered if the universe just leant itself to comical acronyms.

“You’ve logged time at Aker and Anderson?” William leaned on the half wall that divided the desks as he popped a piece of gum in his mouth.

“Yes. Aker last summer and Anderson the summer before that. Both unsupervised.” Regan pulled her laptop out of its bag. Though the chit chat was friendly, she knew the man was also sizing her up.

“Start-of-run training is in a half hour in conference room A3. A site map is in the check-in package I gave you.” William turned and began walking away, and then paused. “One more thing.”

Regan had just powered her laptop on, and stopped to ensure her undivided attention was given to William. The support astronomer, no matter how judgmental or overbearing, could make or break an astronomer’s success at a telescope. “What’s that?”

“I appreciate why you’re not staying on site. It’s too bad there aren’t any empty rooms, or other women during your rotation.” William glanced down at the concrete floor, nervously chewing his gum.

Regan took a step toward the man. “What?”

Shaking his head, he looked up, and smiled. “Just be safe. The drive to Howell can be long and lonely at three in the morning.” Without another word, the man turned and walked away.

Regan shook her head, and chalked the man’s concern up to misplaced paternal tendencies. After all, he was old enough to be her father. She looked at her watch and realized it was nearly eight at night. Her first allocation of time was for two hours, and started at ten thirty.

Placing several text books and note pads in the desk drawer, she sat down and double clicked on the
Starry Night Pro Plus
icon on her laptop. Leaning her elbow on the desk, she rested her chin in her hand, her mind wandering.

The Andrews’ house was nothing if not academic. In spite of her parents’ commitment to ensuring Regan took her studies seriously, they always encouraged the girl to be well rounded. She had run track throughout high school, and participated in theatre groups while getting her undergraduate degree.

Science does not know its debt to imagination
. Michael and Jeanne Andrews had the Ralph Waldo Emerson quote engraved on a pewter plate, and framed as a high school graduation gift to their daughter.

“At the risk of sounding like a crappy self-help book, you really can do anything, Regan. The world is entirely yours for the taking.” Jeanne and her daughter had been sitting on the sofa in their Austin home the night before Regan was leaving for college.

“I’m nervous.” The eighteen year old had confided.

Kissing the top of her daughter’s head, Jeanne grinned. “Your father and I will always be there for you.”

Regan sat up abruptly, her mother’s words ringing in her ears as the silence of the observatory made her feel hollow inside. Her parents had not been able to always be there for her, and remembering their last gift to her brought tears to Regan’s eyes.

“You’re giving it to me!” Regan had barely been able to contain her excitement as her father handed her the keys to his VW van.

Wrapping his arms around his twenty one year old daughter, he hugged her tightly. “She’s my baby, so you take care of her and she’ll take care of you.”

Regan laughed. “It’s so creepy that your van is a girl, Dad.”

“It’s the closest your father has ever come to an affair.” Jeanne smiled as she looked at her husband Michael and her daughter.

“Saying that doesn’t make it less creepy, Mom.” Regan walked toward her mother, and hugged her. “Thank you.”

Rubbing small, reassuring circles along her daughters back, Jeanne held the girl tightly. “You’re welcome.”

“And now you know why we brought two cars.” Michael referenced Regan’s confusion when they arrived for their quarterly visit to College Station. Jeanne had been in their 2006 Honda Accord, and Michael had been following in the 1971 VW.

“Y’all are awesome.” Regan beamed.