The Brightest Star in a Constellation

27: To Be Remembered (or To Be Forgotten)

☆ Evan ☆

From a distance, Northwood looks like a flat slab of the landscape. It's like trying to read a sign from afar, but standing so far away from it that the words jumble together. The colours absorb into the writing, but as the distance narrows, it gains definition. The splash of colour becomes letters, and the letters become words. The horizon becomes a slice of land. Houses that previously looked close begin to shift away.

This town looks the same, no matter what direction I've seen it from. Whether I'm coming or leaving, like it stops existing once it's out of sight.

When Adrian lived in Northwood, his apartment faced the water. I pointed to it, once, and said, That's where Randall is. As if my father could see him when he looked. The ocean was so vast. It connected me to a world I hadn't seen. It connected me to both of my parents.

Adrian tried to brush it off. He knew Randall and Carolyn were together; they had been for years. But I was insistent on telling him the story of my first boat trip to Newfoundland, and so he said, You've seen the mountains, and you've seen Northwood. There's nothing else to see, now that you've seen the world.

And maybe he just felt bad for me. But maybe he was right.

"Evan?" Nicole asks from next to me. I turn my face away from the hotel's window, forcing myself to stop staring at the bay. The glare from the setting sun creates a reflection of the Croix Hotel's lobby. The front desk is a patch of black against a yellow background, like a doorway to another universe.

Nicole watches me as I set out the snacks on the table between us. She returns to her laptop, her nails clicking against the keyboard. In a nearby seat, Dina, a recent addition to the club, glances at Nicole when she isn't looking. Dina's hands are folded on her lap, and occasionally she reaches to fix the clip holding her raven hair behind her head. She leans over to ask, "What are you doing?"

I can see the screen in the lens of Nicole's glasses; lines of bright green text crossing the screen. "Nothing."

"It looks like a doomsday clock," I say.

The three of us stare at Nicole's screen in rapt silence. After twenty-six seconds, Dina says, "I don't see it."

Nicole shrugs as Peter comes back into the room, dressed in business casual and carrying the sign letters from the marquee outside.

"I fucking called it," Nicole says under her breath. "What did I tell you? I knew you'd have to get some work done."

In confirmation, Dina nods. As Peter rounds the desk, Nicole tries to pull him back. This tug-of-war continues until he finally grabs a key card and says, "We're not staying down here. It's quieter on the top floor."

I glance outside. The vacancy sign outside flashes bright neon orange, a second sun against the same shade behind it. A new set of winter rates accompany it.

Jay and Lexa are coming later, so the three of us head to the room prepared for us. Two double beds stand between the side table in the middle of the room.

A lamp in the shape of a flower sits atop it next to the restaurant's menu and an old telephone. The navy blue curtains block out any trace of brightness. There's ample space to move around; with the connecting ensuite bathroom, this room is bigger than mine at home. And staring at my feet, the geometric pattern of carpet swirls like it's a map.