Soon as I see the stars come out, I know.

Tonight’s the night, I think, gettin’ excited, he has to come. Pa always told me tomorrow. “Tomorrow, Pumpkin,” he’d say, “They’ll come out tomorrow.” Then he’d get this real faraway look and I was always wondering what he was thinkin’. He’d look all dreamy and then he’d scowl like he was angry at somethin’. It was real annoyin’, but Pa never told me what he was thinking anyway. He’d say things like, “You’ll understand when you’re older,” or “Don’t cha worry ‘bout it, Pumpkin.” It was different when we was watchin’ the stars, though. He wouldn’t scowl or get angry, he’d just talk to me. Really talk.

I run to Pa now, a huge grin on my face, ready for the dismissal, but preparin’ my argument. He can’t say no tonight. Not to the stars.

Pa’s sitting in his chair readin’ his book and I run and wrap my arms ‘round him, even though they can’t quite fit the whole way.

“What is it, Pumpkin?” Pa asks with a small smile.

“Come see the stars, Pa,” I say eagerly, dragging him outta his chair.

“Whoa, Pumpkin, ya know I gotta-- ”

“Nope! Not tonight! I’ve heard too many ‘scuses. The stars want your attention, too, ya know,” I scold him, giving him the ya can’t keep gettin’ away with this look.

Pa laughs and my scowl deepens, “Alright, ya got me. But only for a little.”

Jumping, I scream, “Ha! I win this time!”

I drag him outside, to ‘the spot.’ I know it by heart. Then I plop down on the ground and pull Pa next to me.

We both sit like that for a bit, not sayin’ much, simply looking. And that was perfectly fine with me. I’m quite alright, long as Pa’s there. A little later, though, Pa starts talking ‘bout them stars and their consolations or somethin’ like that, just like old times. I usually stay awake, asking him questions, but this time I only close my eyes and listen. He goes on n on ‘bout a Ryan, scorpions, and belts, and I just listen. I listen to Pa’s voice and feel the familiarity, the love, and his openness ‘n I soak it up. He talks ‘bout them consolations for a long while, but then he starts talkin’ about Ma. Her laugh, her smile, them pretty brown eyes. Telling me how I’m just like her, making him do stuff, not givin’ up.  How she’s up there in those stars, always watching, makin’ sure we stay outta trouble. Talking ‘bout how she used to walk into the room and light up the whole place, spreadin’ joy. How she was his North Star, always pointing him in the right direction ‘n how now, I am too.

Listenin’, as it turns out, can be pretty tiring. I feel myself driftin’ off and try to fight it a smidge, but finally, I let it happen, enjoying the night air and Pa’s easy voice. Falling into dreams, hearin’ Ma’s voice, and remembering the night of stars.