Page 24 of The Launch

The two men have been partnered up for an afternoon training session. Bill nods at him absently, turning back to his lunch. He shoves the last bite of sandwich into his mouth as he closes his own lunchbox and then takes the apple with him. The break room has emptied out as he sat there, thinking his own deep thoughts. Bill tosses his apple in the air and catches it in one hand just as Debra passes by the open door of the break room, flashing him a bright smile.

The thought that has been tickling his brain as he eats has gotten away like a butterfly escaping from a net, but a seed has been planted there nonetheless. He isn’t sure about Jo and her crazy feminist books and ideas, but heissure that she has the right to be happy and fulfilled.

Jo is waiting at home that evening with a pinched look around her eyes. She’s dishing up a chicken and green bean casserole and pouring iced tea into glasses, but she is also clearly avoiding making eye contact with Bill.

“Hi, kiddos,” he says, setting his briefcase down just inside the door from the garage. “How was your Monday?”

Jimmy is sorting through a stack of baseball cards, putting the most important ones to the side and reading the stats on each one as he goes. “Good,” he says simply, not looking at his dad.

“I read a whole book this afternoon,” Nancy boasts. “It was about a girl who went to stay with her grandparents all summer on their farm, and she became friends with a horse and a rabbit.”

“Sounds like a great story, Nanny-goat,” Bill says, reaching out to ruffle his middle child’s hair. “How about Kate the Great?”

Kate tips her head to one side and looks up at the ceiling like she’s sifting through a million things and choosing the most important items to share. “WELL,” she says. “I played with my Barbies and then Mommy let me swim for a while and then I had to wash the cor-teen out of my hair,” she says.

“Chlorine, ding-dong,” Jimmy corrects his kid sister.

Kate rolls her eyes. “Whatever,” she says. “And then I was going to ride my bike in the driveway but for some reason I laid on my bed and I just FELL ASLEEP,” she adds dramatically, shrugging like it’s one of the great mysteries of the universe.

“Wow,” Bill says, still eyeing Jo and wondering what’s eating at her. “I wish I would have gotten a midday nap.”

“It wasn’t a nap, Daddy,” Kate insists. “I just closed my eyes and slept like it was night time.”

“That’s pretty much a nap,” Jimmy says drily, still looking at his baseball cards.

“What’s for dinner?” Bill asks Jo, though it’s obvious at that point what they’re having.

“Casserole and applesauce,” she says, flicking a glance at the kids. “Go wash up, and put your baseball cards away, Jimmy,” she says with a touch of impatience. “Dinner will get cold while I’m waiting on all of you.”

Bill sits down in his chair and rests his elbows on the table. As soon as the kids are down the hall, washing up in their Jack-and-Jill bathroom, he clears his throat. “What’s going on, JoJo?”

Jo picks up an envelope from the counter and walks it over to him, dropping it on the placemat in front of her husband without making eye contact. “You got a letter today from Desert Sage.”

Bill’s heart drops; the envelope is still sealed, but they both know that any correspondence from Desert Sage is going to be about his first wife, Margaret. He picks up the envelope and tapsthe edge of it against the tabletop. “I should open this later,” he says.

Jo gives a single-shouldered shrug. “Whatever you think is best,” she says with a touch of frost in her voice. Jo is possibly the most even-tempered woman Bill has ever known, but when she’s got something stuck in her craw, it’s not exactly a well-kept secret.

In general, Bill knows that the less said about Margaret, the better, but he also knows that the less said, the more likely Jo is to ice him out over the coming days. He sighs, accepting that he probably can’t win this one.

“Or I can open it now,” he says, feeling a hundred years older than he had when he walked in the door just minutes earlier.

Again, Jo shrugs just the one shoulder. “Do what you need to.”

Bill slips a finger under the flap and opens the envelope, sliding the single sheet of paper out and unfolding it so that he can scan it quickly before the children come back to the table.

Dear Mr. Booker,

We are writing to inform you of your ex-wife’s status, which you have requested that we do at any time if there are major changes. With the passing of her parents, you have agreed to be her next-of-kin, and though we understand that you and Margaret are no longer legally married, you are the only person she can count on in this world.

Bill pauses and rubs his eyes tiredly before reading on.

In the past week, Margaret has become something of a danger to herself and to the nurses on the ward. We have reassessed her needs, and determined that she will be better served by moving from the second floor up to the third floor, where patients are in locked rooms that have been prepared without anything that can be used for potential harm to self or others. This means no bedsheets, nothing with wires or blades,no bath tub, no windows that open to the outside. It may sound restrictive, but, Mr. Booker, this is absolutely necessary to ensure Margaret’s safety.

With this increase in care will obviously come an increase in cost, and I am happy to speak to you about this over the phone so that you are aware what the change in monthly fees will be. Please call me at your earliest convenience so that we might get this worked out and agreed upon before the August bill comes due.

With best wishes for continued partnership in Margaret’s care?—

The kids come skittering back into the kitchen just as Bill finishes, and he shoves the letter back into the envelope, passing it surreptitiously to Jo as she walks by. He gives her a single nod, meaning that it’s okay for her to read the letter, and so she steps into the living room as the kids take their seats, reads the letter, and returns with it tucked into the pocket of her apron.

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