Page 75 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
I miss her.
I tap my pen over the Bartolomeo procedure plan, a spec of glitter on my finger catching in the florescent overhead lights above my cubical.
My phone, face up on my desk, buzzes.
Rose. For her first text since she asked for space, she’s sent me a picture of the blinged-out KitchenAid mixer hanging from her self-made contraption at her brother’s car shop. Texting me that Flynn’s going to epoxy the finish for her to keep it “legit awesome for life.”
Another vibration, another text. This time a picture of Rose, tongue out, her pinky and pointer fingers making rock and roll hand signs as she stands in front of Flynn, who’s decked out in what looks like a white hazmat suit and holding a paint sprayer. To say Flynn looks less than enthused is an understatement.
Without responding to Rose’s texts, I straighten in my chair and pick up the stack of papers in front of me. The Bartolomeo spacewalk plan. The project I’ve been waiting for since I accepted the small American flag pin that marks me as one of the NASA elites. I’m in charge. I’m leading NASA into the future by building a payload platform that will bridge the gap between government and commercial cooperation in space.
This spacewalk is the moment I’ve been waiting for. What I’ve been working for. What I’ve given up so much for.
I should be reading this plan over and over again. Memorizing it now so that when I’m moving five miles per second in space, my movements are second nature.
So I don’t let go of the ISS handrails when the memory of Rose joking about being pregnant crosses my mind at seventeen thousand plus miles per hour.
The papers in my hand, the work that I do, they all prove that I’m trained to handle any situation. To figure out the unknown. With my engineering background, I’m supposed to be able to MacGyver my way out of anything. On Earth and in space. Yet when it comes to Rose West, there’s no instruction manual to memorize and follow. The lack of one has me feeling lost. Untethered.
And as my recent VR simulation fail taught me—that’s not safe.
I should’ve been more careful, kept my guard up longer. Maybe then her throwaway joke about being pregnant wouldn’t have spooked me so much.
I grab another pen from my father’s Army mug that my mom gave me when I was twenty. It’s become a talisman, a reminder of the deal I made with myself to do the work I do. That decision, made by the fissures of my mother’s grief, is so engrained it’s become a part of me. One I’ve forgotten about since Rose West introduced me to barnyard masturbation.
The smart thing would be to walk away from Rose now. But even I know that shuttle has long since flown.
The thought of her smiling at someone else, laughing with someone else,beingwith someone else, stabs at my chest.
Our agreement may not include love, marriage, and a baby carriage, but maybe I can propose something else. Something that won’t change her life for the worst, hold her back, or set her up for heartache. Something more than friends with benefits but less than happily ever after. Something where everyone wins.
When my phone rings and I see my sister’s name, for once I don’t cringe. I take it as an opportunity.
An opportunity to get Rose and me back on track.
“Hey, Brit.”
“Wow, you actually picked up. I was all ready to leave a message.” Seeing as she isn’t being sarcastic, I must have really surprised her.
“Well, you got me.” I sound more upbeat than I feel.
“Okay, well, I just wanted you to ask Rose if she has any allergies.” Still no sarcasm, just excitement. “I didn’t know she was coming to Thanksgiving, and she didn’t seem particularly picky about her food, but I thought it would be best to ask her before Christmas dinner.”
A man announces a sale on Granny Smith apples. My sister is back at the grocery store.
I take a deep breath. “Sorry, I misspoke when we talked last week. Rose won’t be coming to Christmas dinner.”
There’s a beat of silence before Brit asks, “You misspoke?”
“Yes.” I’ve crossed the line too many times recently. With Rose and with my family. Now I need to fix it. “Actually, I might have to work, so I’m not sure when or if I’ll be there either.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” There’s an edge to her voice. “But you messaged the boys over that stupid game that you’d come. That both you and Rose would come.”
I cringe, the video gaming one more thing I need to stop. “Sorry, but you know how it is.”
“I know howyouare.”
I let the barb hit. I deserve it.
