Page 90 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
All Rose said in explaining her sentimental one-eighty was ‘things change.’
The engineer in me couldn’t grasp such a subjective, abstract explanation. I may have even chalked it up to woman’s prerogative.
God help me if my nephews heard me admit that. They’d rake me over the coals of a thousand burning bras.
And rightly so.
Because it isn’tthingsthat change.
It’slovethat changesthings.
Love changes everything.
An hour later,I massage my temples, trying to ease the headache brewing and take a deep breath of stale office air.
I love Rose.
And to make matters worse, she loves me back.
Fuck.
And now I’m facing another, lesser problem. The problem that comes from distancing yourself from others out of concern for their well-being. Because now, as I’m drowning in self-pity and reflection, there’s no one around to get shit-faced with.
Not that I’m getting shit-faced. Iwantto, but as much as NASA prescribes to the work hard play hard mantra, I’m pretty sure they’d draw a line at cubicle drinking.
“Earth to Bodaway. Hello?”
Coming out of my reverie, I find Ian behind me, leaning against the half-wall of my cubical.
“I’ve said your name three times.” He angles forward, glancing at the notebook I’m hunched over. “What were you doing?”
Too late I try and cover the graph paper with its straight lines and perfect angles of the Bartolomeo blueprints—now marred by my absent-minded doodling of Rose’s name.
Ian snickers. “What are you, twelve?”
I toss my pen on the desk. “Fuck off, Kincaid.”
“Nah, man. We need to talk.” He pushes my shoulder, rolling me back from my desk. “I’ve been voted in as the mediator.”
“Voted in?” I swivel my chair to face him. “What are you talking about?”
“Rose won’t take Holt’s or Flynn’s calls.” He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “And to make matters worse, Jackie and Jules are acting weird as hell, dodging them when they ask about her.”
“What does Trish say?”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead.
“I wouldn’t know as she suddenly got the idea to take her trailer somewhere for a ‘writing retreat.’”
I try not to laugh when he air quotes.
“So the guys cast straws to see who had to come talk to you about it.”
I shoot him a sardonic smile. “Let me guess, you lost.”
“Nope. I won.” He raises an eyebrow at my dubious expression. “And trust me, you should be on your knees thanking whatever god you believe in that it’s me and not one of the West brothers. Because even though Holt is the more levelheaded of the two, after Rose cancelled tomorrow’s graduation party, which according to him he’s been planning for months, I got the feeling both he and Flynn weren’t going to talk so much as beat your ass.”
I wince, the guilt in my stomach getting heavier.
