Page 80 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
Am I going to keep it?
There are a thousand reasons not to.
I’m only twenty-one.
I’m unemployed.
I have a history of causing drama that ends with official badges being waved and lawyer fees.
I drive like a maniac.
“Maybe you should talk this over with Vance,” Jules ventures, the seriousness of her words underscored by using Vance’s real name.
Vance. The man I’m only friends with bennies with. The man I’m in love with. It only took a week of silence and a fried laptop to figure that out.
I settle my hand against my abdomen, the weight and warmth reassuring.
One by one I dismiss the reasons for why I shouldn’t have it and think aboutit. What’s growing under my hand.
A baby.Mybaby.
The elusive feeling I’ve been chasing these past few months settles over me, radiating inside my chest. The feeling of purpose and certainty I was missing in my life.
This. This is what I’ve been waiting for. This is what I was meant to do.
“I’m keeping it.” My voice is soft but strong and met with a beat of silence. Until Trish claps her hands and squeals while Jules and Jackie share a look I can’t decipher.
Clearing her throat, Jules leans against the door frame, crossing her arms and motorcycle boots. “How you gonna tell Flashlight?”
I pull my phone out of my jumpsuit pocket. When the screen lights up, it tells me what I already know. Three outgoing texts to ‘Old Man,’ no responses. “I have no idea.”
Nineteen
surface operations
Vance
“Dr. Sato?”
Dr. Rebecca Sato, NASA flight surgeon, glances up from her phone. “Oh, hey, Vance.”
I step out of the elevator and into the white polished tile medical lobby. “You’re back from maternity leave?”
“Just.” She slides her phone into the pocket of her lab coat. “Today’s my first day back.”
I run a hand through my hair, stalling. “Congratulations, by the way.” When I called earlier, I was told I’d have to see the interim doctor, since Dr. Sato was on maternity leave, which was A-OK with me. Even though I know that everything on my medical record is available to all NASA doctors and Rebecca will see it anyway, it would’ve been nice tonothave to have the conversation I’m about to have with a brand-new mother.
“Thanks.” Her smile dims as I shuffle from foot to foot in front of her. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah.” I sigh, giving in to the inevitable. “I have an appointment to get a referral. But I think it’s with the interim doctor.” I can’t keep the hope out of my voice.
“Referral?” Her professional mask drops into place in an instant. “I was just going to go through paperwork today, but I have time to see you.” She glances at her watch. “I think Dr. Zamir is still at lunch.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” I curse myself for coming early. “I don’t want to bother you.”
“No bother at all.” She grabs the iPad resting on the lobby front desk and starts tapping on it. “Let’s talk in my office.”
I follow her down the brightly lit hallway and into her new office with a wall of windows. A marked difference from the old medical building that was retrofitted with modern conveniences and cluttered with furniture past vintage and heading into antique territory.
