‘I bet I can name more stars than you,’ she declared.
He sighed. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’
They were lying on their backs under a clear sky. It was cold. They had spread some old cushions on the ground and covered themselves with blankets. A hip flask full of brandy rested beside them.
‘And way more constellations.’
‘Want to find out?’
‘Not really.’ He pulled her closer ‘Let’s just enjoy the view.’
‘Chicken,’ she teased.
‘I hope we see a shooting star,’ he said.
‘A meteoride! That’s what they’re called.’
‘Really, I didn’t know that. I think I’ll stick with shooting stars. Not sure a wish made on a meteoride would come true.’
She knew better than to tease him for his childish superstitions. She’d found out a long time ago just how easy it was to hurt his feelings.
‘What will you wish for if we see one?
‘I can’t tell or it won’t come true.’
‘I thought that was just for when you blew out all the candles on your birthday cake.’
‘No, it’s for every wish.’
She reached for the brandy. ‘Let’s drink to many more nights like this.’
‘That sounds like a good wish.’