Page 95 of Space Cowgirl: Houston, All Systems Go
Carefully this time, I transfer the last of the cookies to the cooling rack and slide the sheet into the sink to wash later.
“Cookies done.” With a NASA pen I found while going through the laundry room, I cross the item off my list.
Over the past two days, I’ve gotten a lot of stuff done. Such as promoting Tucker to senior foreman. With that one task completed, my life became open to a lot of other possibilities.
But first up is Jules.
I tried calling her yesterday, but she didn’t pick up. That’s okay. I expected that. I’m planning on going to her anyway—hence the cookies. Some women might want flowers, but Jules is the kind that will appreciate baked goods.
Hopefully.
I need her to appreciate them enough for her to talk to me. For me to tell her I’m sorry. To tell her that I love her. Just as she is. Andhopefully, if she can see herself feeling the same, she’ll open up to me about whatever it is that she’s hiding.
’Cause she’s definitely hiding something.
And if it is another guy, then I’ll just have to convince her that I’m the better choice.
Unable to stand the mess in my new kitchen a second more, I begin clearing the island of ingredients and dirty measuring cups. I’m just about to tackle the cookie pans when my phone rings.
I know it’s Rose by the personalized ringtone she installed. Wiping my hands off, I pick up on the second verse of the Eurythmics’ “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves.”
“Hey.”
“Holt? I, uh…” Her voice is shakier than I’ve heard it in a long time.
“Rose? What’s wrong?”
She blows out a deep breath, static sounding over the line. “I didn’t want to tell you on the phone, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate waiting an hour for me—”
“Tell me what?”
“There’s been an accident at NASA.”
“Who?” But I know. I know what she’s about to say.
“Jules.”
My hold on the edge of the countertop slips and I stumble back.
“It was during underwater training at the Neutral Buoyancy Lab.”
“Is she… is she…?” I can’t even finish the sentence.
“Yes. God, yes. She’s fine,” Rose says in a rush. “Jesus, I should’ve started with that.”
“Ya think?” But relief washes over me. Followed quickly by worry. “What happened?” Before Rose can answer, I change questions. “What hospital?” Phone tucked to my shoulder, I make my way to the front door and my boots.
“She was sent to the on-site medical building at NASA.”
No hospital. That’s good, right? If it was really bad they’d send her to the emergency room. Or does NASA have an emergency room? I stomp my feet into the boots. “Okay, I’m on my way.” I pull the phone away from me but hear Rose’s panicked yell.
“Wait!”
“What?”
“You can’t just go see her there.”
“What do you mean? Of course I can go.”
