It was a gust of wind teasing her curtains that woke her. She sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before peeling back her light summer blanket and unsticking her nightgown from her sweating body. The wind felt pleasant, if only barely cooler, and it carried the scent of freshly cut hay from the farm below, which was even nicer.

She placed both hands beneath the window and pushed it open to let more air inside, then stuck her head out to see the stars, which were especially vivid tonight, set against a midnight sky with no moon. Nights like this were her favorite. She could see the cold pinpricks of light more clearly.

Still not close enough, she thought, hitching up her nightdress and stepping onto the windowsill. Grasping the trellis clinging to the side of the house, she shoved a foot between the boards. Have the holes gotten smaller? she wondered, or am I just getting too big to do this?

She tilted her head back, scrutinizing the roof’s edge as she ascended, mindful of the prickly roses that had crept closer to the top of the house since spring. She managed to propel herself up and over, scratching her palms with the rough shingles in the process. She lay there panting for a moment, gazing up at the sky.

The stars glittered with a fierce brilliance that nearly took her breath away. Sometimes, when she lay on the roof, she felt as if she might fall into the stars at any moment. This made her head spin as much as her thoughts.

At dinner, Mama had mentioned that it was time for her to stop carousing in the woods and start learning more domestic skills, like cooking and mending. She had stared at Mama in dismay as her little brother Ben wrinkled his nose and teased her about missing out on the next puffball battle. She’d kicked him under the table and gotten in trouble. Mama kept saying things about her growing up more and more lately. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t like it. She’d much rather be with her brothers and cousins in the forest, climbing trees and throwing green, spore-filled mushrooms at them.

Mama wants me to be just like her, she thought bitterly, always cleaning, always puttering around in the kitchen, always sewing. BORING! And besides, how come the boys don’t have to do any of that stuff? What irritated her the most was that her father had wholeheartedly agreed. She felt betrayed by him most of all. He’d always told her she could be anything, but now, because she was growing up, she suddenly had to start being like Mama.

She thought about staying up on the roof and hiding from everyone. She smiled as she imagined watching them frantically looking for her below, all while she sat above them. That would show them, she thought, but then she remembered it was summer. The sun will come up and crisp me to bits. With a sigh, she sat up, resigned to climbing back down. The descending trip was never as much fun as the climb up.

A bit of movement caught her eye, and she looked up. To her surprise, what looked like a constellation had peeled itself away from the sky and was moving. She stood, transfixed, noticing that it seemed to have legs, which were now marching straight towards her.

The sight made her fall backward against the slope of the roof onto her rump. She scraped herself roughly over the shingles in an effort to escape, then found herself pressed against the chimney, heart pounding as the thing reached the house and slowed. Her eyes bulged as she gaped up at it, unsure of what it was or what was to happen next.

The whole top of it was round in shape, she could see, and it wasn’t simply a collection of stars but seemed to be some sort of ship. She stood on quaking legs trying to get a better look. The round part slowly lowered itself until it was level with the roof. Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, taking her closer. She could now see that the nearest part was a beautiful curving balcony upon which people in fancy dress strolled, dancing and laughing. She could hear music and the tinkle of people toasting with champagne glasses.

She stared at a group nearest the edge that were talking together and laughing. A man in a silver tuxedo glanced away from the group, noticing her.

“What have we here?” he asked, his voice carrying a curious yet welcoming tone. The group quieted, stepping nearer to the edge.

“This must be why we’ve stopped,” one of the women near him said, swirling her drink idly. Everyone looked at her with interest, which made her nervous.

The man bowed deeply at her and extended his hand as if in invitation.

“Will you be joining us tonight?” he asked.

She swallowed and glanced down at her nightdress, feeling out of place on her own roof. The man smiled at her, as if he understood. He continued holding out his hand. She blinked, thinking about how fun it might be to join a party that was altogether out of this world, her gaze shifting from the dazzling sight before her to the comforting familiarity of her home below.

“Will you bring me back home, if I do?” she asked the man. A couple of the ladies near him tittered as the man shook his head.

“I’m afraid we won’t be back this way for quite some time, my dear.”

She chewed on her lip, thinking about how she had been told never to get into a car with strangers, but nobody had ever mentioned a spaceship! Then she imagined how frantic her family would be if she took off with this group of people, disappearing among the stars, for who knew how long. This is an even worse idea than hiding on the roof, she thought.

She sighed in resignation, shaking her head. The man’s smile wavered for a moment, revealing a hint of disappointment, but he quickly masked it with a polite nod.

“Very well then,” he said, “We will simply have to return for you at a later date.”

She stepped back as the ship ascended, gaping up at it in wonder as she watched it step completely over the house. She ran to the edge of the roof to watch the bottommost stars of it’s legs touching the earth with a faint fizzling noise. Within a few strides, it was stepping gingerly through the woods. She stood there for a long while after it disappeared from sight, wondering what she had just seen and whether she was dreaming. She gave herself a pinch, wincing as it hurt.

She climbed back down the trellis, slipped through her window into bed, and lay awake in wonder for a long while before finally falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. Later, she would regret not asking more questions. Who were they, really? Where had they come from? Why had they invited her to join them? These unanswered questions would haunt her thoughts, a persistent reminder of the night she passed up the opportunity to step into the unknown.

Years flowed by like a slow-moving river, each day blending seamlessly into the next. The magic of that night seemed like a distant dream, overshadowed by the unremarkable rhythms of everyday life. The excitement of her youth gave way to the routine of adulthood. She’d been instructed in the ways of baking, mending, and washing. She’d even married and soon found herself immersed in the endless cycle of domesticity. Babies arrived, and with them came even more things to learn and do. The wonder of the stars seemed a distant memory, eclipsed by the demands of ordinary life.

Yet, through it all, a part of her never truly let go of that magical night. In the quiet moments, when she sat alone and the noise of her busy household faded into the background, her mind would wander back to the constellation that had descended from the sky. She would imagine what might have been—dancing among the stars, mingling with celestial beings, and living a life woven into the very fabric of the cosmos. This lingering sense of what-ifs cast a shadow over her daily routine, a constant reminder of a choice not taken.

Though time had etched grooves on her face and stolen the colors from her hair, her heart remained ever hopeful. Her eyes scanned for the elusive constellation, still dreaming of the magic she’d declined as a young girl. She wondered what might have been had she joined the party.

“Why does Grandma sit out there looking up at the sky so much?” her grandkids would ask. “Is she waiting for an alien to come pick her up?”

“Yeah,” her kids would laugh, “She’s waiting for a hot date!” But they’d still glance back, worry lining their faces, as they shooed their own little ones off to bed.

One evening, as she sat on the lawn, wrapped in a cozy shawl and gazing upwards with tired eyes, the sky seemed to shimmer in a way it hadn’t for her in years. Sudden movement made her smile as she watched a familiar constellation peel itself away from the sky and march in her direction.

She stood and slowly made her way over to it as it descended to the lawn. She smiled up at the man in the silver tuxedo who bowed to her again.

“I’d curtsy, but I’m afraid these old legs might fail me,” she croaked.

“I see we made it just in time,” he replied, holding out a hand to her. She stepped forward, then hesitated, thinking to look back at the house with all her family inside, but the man interrupted her.

“Don’t,” he said sternly, “don’t look back.”

She nodded at him, a fierceness alighting in her eyes. She’d read stories like this, and she wasn’t about to let this experience escape a second time. She reached out and took his hand.

As she made contact, she felt a delightful shiver course through her, and she sucked in a breath. He steadied her as she stepped onto the ship. She felt light and youthful! She looked down to discover that her old frock had been replaced with a silver ballgown. She gasped, watching it sparkle with her movements. A beautiful blonde lady approached, pressing a glass of something fruity into her hands. She sipped and felt a surge of elation. Moments later, she was enveloped by a crowd that greeted her joyously.

They found her on the lawn, the dew still fresh around her. Curled up in the grass, her expression was one of peaceful contentment. The story of her life had taken her in an unexpected direction, but at the end, it had led her back to the stars she had always dreamed of.