Starlight, Starbright
~ chapter one ~
The crisp autumn air burned Lisa Cuddy's lungs as she ran along the stone walk as fast as her three inch heels and pencil skirt would allow her to. Nearly two decades of working in hospital administration had trained her well. Thick beams of fading sunlight dappled the well landscaped path, breaking free from the thick gray clouds that hung low in the sky, the air fresh from the rain that had fallen earlier in the day. Her yoga toned legs flexed easily as she took the well worn steps leading to the old stone building two at a time. Nearly breathless, she gripped the cold, brass handle of the old oak door, wrenching it open with a huff. Her normally stiff shoulders sagged at the sight that appeared before her.
Rachel Cuddy glared sullenly at the ground, her lower lip thrust out in an angry pout. Cuddy watched as her chubby, argyle-patterned socked legs swung violently under the stone bench, Rachel's mary jane enclosed feet clicking against the tile floor with every pass, like a frenzied pendulum. Her hands gripped the edge of the bench tightly, and her thick, dark hair curtain hid her face from Cuddy. "Rachel, honey, I'm..."
"I wanna go home," the little girl hopped off the bench, then rushed around Cuddy in a frenzy, pushing the large doors open. Cuddy heard them shut behind her with an echoing slam, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. It had been a hellacious day at New Haven Mercy, the hospital Cuddy had taken over after leaving Princeton-Plainsboro. She ran her fingers through her dark hair, then sighed. It wasn't the first time she had been late picking her daughter up from the after school latchkey program, and it certainly wouldn't be the last; not with her job, but it never got easier. Biting her lip, she turned around, and followed the same path her daughter had beaten through the large doors.
It took her a few minutes to walk to her car. She should have walked a little faster, but she knew Rachel needed a few moments to cool off. The eight-year old was already sitting in the passenger seat, her seat belt fastened, and her head bowed, her dark hair cascading around her round face, her bright blue eyes focused on whatever she was holding in her lap. Cuddy watched her for a moment, studying her daughter before adjusting the shoulder strap of her purse and walking steadfastly to her car, reading herself for a battle.
Rachel didn't even look up as she slid into the passenger seat, buckling her own seat belt while slipping the key into the ignition. The car purred to a start, and Cuddy pulled out into the slick New Haven streets. After a few moments of driving in tense silence, Cuddy broke first. "Do you want to go to Alfredo's for dinner tonight?" she asked, tempting her daughter into speaking by mentioning the little girl's favorite restaurant. If only it was that easy, she thought to herself as she waited for a response.
Rachel twitched her shoulder, then resumed reading. The little girl had an insatiable appetite for books, and The Indian in the Cupboard lay open across her green and navy plaid skirted lap. Cuddy licked her lips. "How about Taco Gordo's then?"
"I want McDonald's," Rachel responded, trying and failing to be nonchalant. Cuddy shuddered, knowing that the little girl was punishing her; she hated fast food in general, and McDonald's was easily her least favorite of the big chains.
"Rachel," she began, briefly closing her eyes as they pulled to a stop at a red light. The clouds had grown thicker again, and more rain threatened.
"You were late," Rachel said matter of factly, not looking up from the page, though the fierce way she turned the page belied how angry she was at her mom. "You were late, and I get McDonald's." She finally lifted her eyes away from the book and glared blue ice chips at her mother. "And a Coke. And a chocolate sundae," she demanded before returning to her book.
"Rachel," Cuddy sighed, hoping to negotiate.
"You were late!" Rachel wouldn't budge on her position. "And you pinky promised that it wouldn't happen again." She slumped back in the gray upholstered seat, suddenly looking small and vulnerable. "You never keep your pinky promises," she said quietly, pouting again.
Cuddy rolled her eyes. I stood up to the six-foot four three hundred pound head of maintenance today with out batting an eye. I've taking on drug reps and insurance lawyer without even breaking a sweat. I had thirty people storm into my office today threatening lawsuits and one person spit in my face over a malpractice suit. Yet, I can't negotiate with a tiny eight-year old little girl. "Okay," she sighed. "But no Coke," she gave her daughter a stern look. "You don't need sugar and caffine, not this close to bedtime."
Rachel returned her look until the honking behind them made them break off the standoff. The light had turned green. "Okay," Rachel finally huffed out, drawing out the word. "I want a milkshake instead then," she brokered in a non-negotiable tone, going back to her book. "You promised."
Cuddy chewed on the inside of her cheek while she eased into the turning lane that would take them to McDonald's. This, at least, would be a promise she could keep.
[H] [H] [H]
Rachel Cuddy primly dipped her apple slices into the thick caramel sauce that had come with them in her happy meal. Her mother had insisted on the apple slices over the greasy french fries, which, to be honest, Rachel had been happy about. She didn't particularly care for McDonald's, but she'd never tell her mother that. This was her punishment for being late, again. At least she didn't make Nanny Ginni come and pick her up. She didn't speak to her mother for a week after that.
Rachel turned the page in her book. She was getting to her favorite part, when Little Bear taught Omri how to make a wigwam. She wanted to know how to make a wigwam, and to hunt and live in the woods. That would be a lot of fun.
"Rachel, honey," her mom said, picking at her limp salad. Her mother didn't eat meat, but atleast she didn't make Rachel not eat meat. Rachel loved chicken nuggets, even the ones from McDonald's. "How was school today."
Rachel chewed her apple slice slowly. She liked school, she really did, especially the different subjects. She liked them all – Math, Social Studies, Art, Science, Reading and Spelling – they were all fun, and she liked to learn. She didn't like Music, though, or Gym. She hated gym. Especially when they played games, she was always picked last, being small and kind of chubby. Her mom said it was just baby fat, and it would go away when she went through another growth spurt, but Rachel didn't believe her. It wasn't that her lied to her a lot, it was just that Rachel didn't ever see herself being as pretty as her mom.
"School was fine," she finally said, swallowing the apple. "I got a 98 on my multiplication quiz," she said, grinning and showing off her latest missing tooth. "I also got a hundred on Science Quiz."
"That's good, honey," Cuddy said, proudly. "Anything else?"
Rachel thought about it, spinning her remaining chicken nugget around and around in its little cardboard box while she chewed on her lip. Finally, she just blurted it out. "Jami Conner told me that you don't love me like a real mommy does 'cause I didn't come out of your belly." It had been bothering her all day, and then her mom had been late again, and that had to prove that Jami was right, because a real mommy wouldn't be late in picking her up all the time.
Her mom looked shocked, her fork full of lettuce mix forgotten as she stared in shock at her daughter. "Why did she say that?" her mom asked, eyes wide.
"'Cause I got an answer right in Math, and I won the Spelling test this week. Jami just said I was a know-it-all show off, and I told her she was wrong." Rachel pouted a little. "I don't like being a know-it-all, mommy," she shrugged, hopelessly.
Her mom put her fork down, then scooted around the table to sit on the bench with Rachel, giving her daughter a fierce hug. Rachel had known for as long as she could remember that she wasn't her mommy's real daughter, that her real mommy had been really, really sick when Rachel had been born, and both her mommy and daddy had loved her a bunch, but her daddy couldn't take care of Rachel on his own after her real mommy died, so he had given her to her new mommy so her new mommy could take care of her. Her mommy put her arms around her. "Rachel, honey, I love you more than you could even ever know. I love you so much," her mom hugged her tightly. "And what Jami Conner thinks doesn't matter," she said, kissing the top of Rachel's hair. "What do you think? Do you like getting good grades?"
Rachel nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh. I like learning things, too. Except piano. Do I still have to keep learning piano?" She wasn't very good at it, with her small hands and chubby fingers.
Her mother laughed. "Nice try," she said with a grin. "But you're still going to piano lessons."
"Hmpf," Rachel half snorted as her mother moved to the bench across the table. "Not fair. I hate piano," she pouted.
Her mother grinned, "you'll thank me later," she smiled, then checked her watch. "Finish your chicken and apples and then we'll go and get ice cream at the Purple Cow."
Rachel's eyes grew wide. "Really?" she asked, excited. The Purple Cow had the best ice cream in New Haven, with bubble gum in it, and there was even chocolate ice cream with gummi worms. She reached for the last nugget and began to happily munch on it, after dipping it into the sweet and sour sauce packet she had gotten with it.
"Really," her mom swept her bangs out of her face, and then watched her daughter eat, happiness glowing from Rachel's face, wishing she could make her daughter happier.
[H] [H] [H]
Later that night, after a double scoop of Bubble Gum and Superman ice cream, Lisa tucked her daughter into bed. After a kiss goodnight, she turned out the lights, and slipped in the hall. She almost shut the door completely when she heard the sheets rustle. She heard Rachel slip out of the bed, so she pressed her ear to the door, and, feeling slightly guilty, she listened.
Rachel's room was located on the top floor of their house, which she loved. When she was little, even more littler than she was now, her mommy had decorated her room in pinks and whites, with lots of dolls. Over the past summer, her mother had allowed her to decorate her room, and she had chosen a space theme. She loved the planets and stars, and would watch tv shows on PBS and the History channel on the subject with sheer fascination. Her favorite stories had to do with planets and spacemen and stars. She wanted to be an astronaut when she grew up.
Every night, since she could remember, she would toss the covers her mom had spent so much time tucking her into off, then tiptoe over to the wide bay window, where she had a sorta good view of the sky. She would then scan the sky unit she could see the brightest star, and she would make a wish. On nights like tonight, where the sky was shrouded by the clouds (she liked the word shrouded; she won the schools spelling bee for her grade last year by spelling it right), she looked for the spot where she knew the brightest stars usually were, and she made her wish.
She didn't have a large family, a few cousins, her Aunt Julie, and her Grammy, but there was one part of her life that she seemed to miss the most.
She wanted a Daddy.
Uncle Jimmy tried to do things with her that Daddy's did, like take her out for ice cream when he was in town to visit her mommy, or take her to a carnival once or twice, but he didn't visit very often, and besides, he wasn't married to mommy – he was just her friend, so he couldn't be a Daddy. Her friends had stopped asking her about her Daddy a long time ago, since she didn't have on. (But everyone has a Daddy! she remembered Courtney sighing, frustrated with Rachel's answer.
So every night, she would pick out the brightest star in the sky, then she would close her eyes really, really tight – so tight her face hurt, and she would cross her fingers and her toes. Her cousin Abbi told her that it wouldn't work unless her fingers and toes were crossed, then she would recite the words.
Starlight, starbright.
First star I see tonight.
Wish I may, wish I might,
to have this wish I wish tonight.
She drew in a deep breath, trying to touch the magic in the moment, then, with all her might, she whispered, "I want a Daddy." She said it outloud, but not too loud. If it was too loud, then the wish couldn't come true. Abbi said the stars could hear whispers, even after Rachel had matter of factly told her that the stars were just a giant ball of gas (she'd just seen a show on PBS that talked about it). ('Nuh-uh," Abbi had shook her head. "The stars can hear wishes, and if you wish hard enough, and in the right way, then they come true!" Abbi had been six when she had told Rachel this, and a whole two years and eight months older, so Abbi had to be right...)
So she wished, and wished her hardest, and she felt something crackle in the air... She wanted a Daddy more than anything in the world... And somehow, she knew a Daddy would also make her Mommy happy, and that was important, too. She opened her eyes, and she swore that the star she wished on grew brighter, then it winked at her. Smiling, she hopped off the little bench that jutted out from the big bay window, then she crawled into bed. It had to work tonight...
[H] [H] [H]
Lisa Cuddy heard her daughter's prayer, and tears stung her eyes. "Oh, baby," she breathed. She chewed her lip, and debated about going in and setting her daughter straight – no amount of wishing on stars would make things happen, but somehow, she felt something hold her back. Little girls needed to be able to dream, she decided, because life eventually would teach them that dreams rarely, if ever came true...