Page 36 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
I spin in my seat. “Of course I am.”
Behind me is Jules’ desk—a mess of papers both stacked and spread out everywhere like a tornado went through. Her corkboard is decorated with pictures of a cow wearing a rhinestone collar, standing next to a small pink barn. Pictures she likes to show me every time we happen to be in the office at the same time. Also in one of the cow pictures is Rose, alongside Jackie and Trish.
I lean closer.
How did I never notice that before?
Everything is Rose. And it’s only been two days since I’ve seen her.
“So you’ll be there on time, right?” My sister’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Where?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
Sighing, I spin back to face my computer. “I’m just messing with you, Brit. Yes, I’ll be at Mom’s for Thanksgiving. On time.”
She finally lets me go, and we hang up.
Tossing my phone on my desk, I lean back and squint against the sun blazing in through the windows along the perimeter of the mostly empty floor.
Not only is it the week of Thanksgiving, but the astronauts that are still onsite are either training, traveling, training, studying, training, public speaking, or training. Some of my colleagues are in the gym, running through their detailed weight training regimes, or in a class somewhere being briefed on a new science experiment they’ll be doing in zero gravity sometime in the future, or in the Neutral Buoyancy Lab running through the order of operations for an upcoming spacewalk.
My high-priority tasks have dwindled now that the Bartolomeo’s mission has been set eight months out. NASA isn’t usually one for last-minute procedures, so with everything in place, there’s just a lot of email double-checks and yes, more training. But today is not a training day. I may have told my sister I’m busy, but today I’ve got nothing but time to think about Rose. And the fact that I want to spend all that time thinking about her is concerning.
I refresh my emails, checking for anything new. There isn’t.
I think about distracting myself with the gym, but I’ve already been. My most arduous self-appointed task today has been avoiding Jules, who’s dogging my every step, trying to get me to break first about why I was so friendly with Rose at the bar.
“Houston, we have a problem.”Tom Hanks’ voice rings loudly around the empty floor.
“Oops.” Jackie reaches for her phone. “Sorry.”
Whatever she reads on the screen makes her smile, then pack up all her stuff.
“Hot date?”
“Hmm?” She glances up. “Oh, no.” She pushes up her glasses looking more like a college student than an astronaut. “I’m meeting the girls for lunch.”
“Girls?”
“Uh-huh. Trish just got approval for her spousal support badge.”
NASA finally got hip to using less sexist vernacular and renamed the Wife Security Badge that all partners are allowed to apply for to the Spousal Support Badge. I’ve seen Jackie eat lunch with Flynn a few times, so he must have one, too.
“That’s cool.” I watch Jackie putting away her notes and books. Everything in its proper place.
“Ian even got Rose a day pass so we can all eat together first.”
I stand. “Rose is here?”
Jackie frowns, tilting her head again. “You know,I’mthe one who isn’t supposed to pick up on social cues, and yet even I hear the note of excitement in your voice whenever Rose’s name is mentioned.”
I can’t argue, so I just shrug at being called out.
Jackie slings her bag over her shoulder, calling out over her shoulder, “You can come if you want.”
Oh, I want.
