Page 65 of To Love the Stars too Fondly

“Damn, I thought counselors were supposed to be encouraging,” Alex had said.

“She was very encouraging. She encouraged me to get a different degree.”

Alex laughed, and it sounded like dusty cobwebs being swept away.

The time passed quickly. We soon entered Oak Creek, a few miles outside Sedona.

“I suspect the cemetery is actually around here,” Alex said, taking the third roundabout in a row. “There are a series of private cemeteries to the west. I came once with my dad—the one and only trip he ever took me on, and it was for a funeral.”

I couldn’t see much beyond the window, but even the air smelled good here. “I’ve never been to Sedona. I always romanticized it growing up, though. The red rocks and the swirly trees—it just sounded so magical.”

Alex said nothing, instead taking a detour off the main road.

We appeared to leave town, but the car headlights illuminated signs for the Vanderborne Cemetery. “Here we go,” Alex said, and to my surprise, the gate was wide open.

Alex pulled over past the gate, then leaned over me to grab a flashlight from the glovebox. I realized I was still wearing her jacket. “Do you want this?”

“No, I’m good. You need it more than me.”

She stepped out of the car. Before I could stop her, she opened my door and offered a hand. “Let’s find El,” she said, offering me the flashlight.

But I could barely move at first, instead losing my breath at the billions of stars above, no city light to dampen them.

Between the flashlight and her phone, we split up in the dark cemetery, the headstones ranging from a variety of dates. Some as far back as 1920, but most were from the 60s onward. My light illuminated magnificent statues of angels, small cherubs, even a few mausoleums. Between studying gravestones, I stole glances at the celestial sights above, enamored by the beauty and light. Perfect crystal visions of Ursa Major and Minor, Orion’s Belt, Scorpio—even a few planets, with Venus shining extra bright.

“Terra!”

I turned to the voice, to Alex, about 50 feet away.

“I found her!”

The weight of the quest sank through my skin, down to my bones. I moved slowly, afraid of nothing and everything. But Alex was waiting, so I journeyed on.

There she was, beside a headstone half my height, inscribed with serene text:

Eloise Vanderborne

Though my soul may set in darkness,

it will rise in perfect light;

I have loved the stars too fondly

to be fearful of the night.

“The Old Astronomer,” I whispered, for the poem was dear to me. To Alex, I added, “It’s from a poem by Sarah Williams. El always said it was her favorite poem because it was mine.” I sank to my knees, tears immediately brimming from my eyes. I had cried so much today, but how could I not again? Here was El, buried and blessed beneath the light of a billion stars, forever enshrined by a poem she loved because I had loved it.

Alex joined me in kneeling, her arm coming around me. “You okay?”

I nodded, then wiped the tears from my cheeks. “She looks so beautiful beneath the stars.”

Alex smiled softly, her gaze setting sweetly on me. “She does.”

And amid the perfect melody of night, I felt fleeting, fragile peace.

I don’t know how long we stayed. I only knew, when the chill rose, that Alex’s phone showed it was midnight.

I rose but went instead to wrap my arms around El’s gravestone, as best as I could. Whispered words tumbled from my lips as they grazed the stone. “I’ll love you forever, El.”