Part 5 of 5

Next day

Soon as the men leave for patrol, Richard is full of talk about his previous evening. So much so that Camille finally blurts, "I simply don't get this obsession with the night sky, it's just stars."

He stops talking and settles in enigmatic look on her then says low, "Well, if you'd care to join me tonight, there's the possibility of a conjunction of two bodies. It could be quite spectacular, if it happens. What do you say?"

She frowns, "Me? What about Miss Westcott? Isn't she your heavenly partner?"

He shakes his head, "I'll tell you about Miss Westcott if you agree to attend me tonight."

She bites her lip but her jealous curiosity wins out, "Alright, I'll see you at dusk."

"Good," is all he offers and the day spools out as days do, one minute following the next until it's over. As she passes him on her way out the door, he murmurs, "Don't be late," and she hurries home for an emergency last minute astronomy cram-session.

Dusk

She arrives just as the first stars begin to peep out and is a bit surprised his telescope isn't set up. She's even more surprised when he hands her a glass of wine as a single hurricane candle sheds soft light onto the tiny veranda table. As they sit, she fidgets until she simply has to say what's been in her heart, "Oh, Richard, I know nothing about this science that means so much to you! I don't need a telescope, my moon and stars are in your eyes! PLEASE don't marry that Westcott creature! My heart will break!"

He listens to this woeful plea with a calm air, sips his wine, then says, "I have no intention of marrying Miss Westcott. We simply shared a mutual interest for heavenly bodies, that's all."

Camille gulps, "Well, there's ONE heavenly body that I'm admiring right now and I..." Then she sits up and mutters, "Wait a minute, SHARED? Past tense? Do you no longer share it?"

He nods, "Yes, past tense. This is what I really want to talk to you about. You see, Miss Westcott and I had a bit of a contretemps last night when she tried to kiss me."

Camille's mouth falls open then her words fly like bullets, "KISS you! That hussy tried to KISS you? How dare she! She isn't nearly good enough for you! You deserve so much better!"

He interrupts, "Indeed? How interesting, you sound just like her now." At Camille's mad look, he explains, "She was very displeased by my indifference, jumped to a completely unsubstantiated conclusion, and began a jealous diatribe along these very same lines... all about a hussy in my life and whether or not I was too good for same."

Camille's mouth falls open again, "A... another hussy? Besides that Westcott hussy? Oh, Richard, how COULD you? You've been dallying with TWO women? Right under my nose? Oh, oh, my heart breaks..." She drops her face into her hands and makes small sounds of loss.

He holds up a finger, "Never mind all that, I want to hear about this 'moon and stars in my eyes' that you mentioned a moment ago. When did that start?"

She's so distraught and in deepest mourning that she's caught off-guard and the truth just pops out, "About a year ago."

He sees her freeze in sudden realization and scowls, "And you said nothing?"

She squirms in her seat, daring a peek out from behind her hands, "Well, I'm shy…"

He scoffs, "We both know THAT'S not true."

She sits up huffily, on the defensive, "It is SO true! I'm shy with YOU… only with you. I never know what you're thinking. You make me crazy and I…"

He tsks and crosses his arms, "So, which is it, are you shy or crazy?"

She claps hands down onto the armrests and growls, "Both! I'm both… and it's all your fault!"

His eyes widen, his hands fly to his chest, "Oh! I? I'm at fault here?"

"Yes," she hisses, suddenly furious, "Yes, YOU! If only you'd give me something! A hint! A clue! SOME thing! But, no, you're Mr. Stone Face, always scowling and telling me..."

He stills, "Telling you what?"

She seems to shrink into herself, mutters, "How French I am."

He gapes at her then huffs an incredulous laugh, "Camille, you being French is the least of my worries right now."

She looks up. Something in the tone of his voice is different. "Oh? And what's your biggest worry right now?"

He drops his gaze, knots his hands together in his lap, seems to fight with himself before saying, "You being a woman, actually."

This so surprises her that she stalls briefly before rallying, "Um, you wish me to be a man?"

His head shoots up, alarm writ large in his eyes, "What? A man?" He pauses for a moment then blinks, "Oh, oh no, I'm GLAD you're a woman. I want you to be a woman. I want you to be..." He hesitates, drops his gaze again.

She leans forward, "You want me to be... what?"

Softly, so softly she isn't sure she hears right, he whispers, "I want you to be MY woman."

Moments later he has his wineglass shoved back into his hand. He looks up into hot triumphant eyes as she quaffs her wine in one gulp. Clacking the glass down, she reaches for his hand and murmurs, "Not to rush things but... let's take this fascinating discussion inside. I want to hear more about this awful hussy Miss Westcott was so heated up over."

His smile gains confidence as she pulls him to his feet, "Oh, well, she had quite a lot to say about it, all of which convinced me this other hussy suited me rather well."

"Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm, tell me more," she croons as she draws him into privacy.

His voice fades as the door closes and the intimate night air continues to fall down all around the little house on the beach of dreams... dreams both dreamed and realized... as a celestial conjunction begins to perfectly align... heavenly bodies on a collision course.

And he was right. It is quite spectacular.

END