Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,36

mom. Maybe it had been a very bad idea to bring Crusty.

But Lillian was calm and appreciative at the unexpected visit, insisting Crusty join them for dinner when she learned neither of the raiders had eaten yet. Crusty took Jessamyn’s regular seat and Jess, looking at the remaining places, slipped into her brother’s chair.

An awkward silence settled over the room. Jess was determined to break it.

“Crusty’s been looking into some new ideas for the household algae program,” she said.

“Oh?” said Jess’s father.

Her mother remained silent, but looked up to meet Crusty’s eyes.

“Probably nothing,” he said. But he moved into a discussion of his curious ideas with Jess’s mother.

Before long, the two rose so that Crusty could take a look at some of Lillian’s experimental pots. Jess thought her mother sounded embarrassed as she crossed to the plants.

Her father spoke softly. “She’s not been giving the algae as much attention lately. I’ve been trying to keep them alive, but I don’t have your mother’s touch.”

Jessamyn’s eyebrows flew up. Her mother, not spending every spare moment on her potted algae specimens?

“That doesn’t sound like Mom,” she murmured.

Her father frowned and placed his elbows on the table, bringing the tips of his fingers together in a thoughtful way. “She’s trying … Really …”

Trying what? Jess wanted to ask. The vagueness of the phrase annoyed Jess. It was as if her father could only speak of her mother in unfinished sentences.

“I thought she might try her hand at hacking code,” said Jess’s father. “Your brother’s talents come from her side.”

“Not entirely,” said Jess, indignant on her father’s behalf. “You’re a genius according to your students.”

He grunted out a small laugh. “Nice to know. Anyway, Mei Lo filled in your mother and me on the rest of Ethan’s mission this morning. I guess she’s hoping someone here can tackle the problem of gaining control of the satellites.”

“Oh,” said Jess.

“I think it might help your mom to focus on something different for a change.”

“Is Mom hopeful about the project?” asked Jess.

“She’s not optimistic,” said her father, shrugging.

“Ethan said it was impossible to fix things from here,” said Jess.

“That’s what Mei Lo said,” agreed her father.

“Do you think Ethan’s right?”

Her father tapped his fingers one against the other. “It’s not likely he’d be wrong on such a subject. I took a look at the problem. It was way beyond anything I could tackle.”

Jessamyn nodded. Looked over to see where Crusty was gesticulating—rather wildly for him—at one of her mom’s algae pots. She heard her mother laugh softly, but it wasn’t a real laugh. It was a small sort of polite laugh people make when it is expected or kind or appropriate.

Jess turned back to her father. “So Mom’s not enthusiastic about hacking the satellites, then?”

He shook his head absently, playing with the foil wrapper left from his meal. “It wasn’t as good of a distraction as I was hoping for. I’m trying to think of a better one.” Then he looked up and frowned. “I shouldn’t have said that. Your mother’s trying very hard.”

Jess leaned in. “Trying what very hard?”

Her father’s face wrinkled with deep furrows. “Forget I said anything.”

“Dad,” she spoke in low tones. “I’m not likely to forget with Mom like … like that,” she said, gesturing her head toward her mother. “What’s she trying to do ‘so very hard’?”

Geoffrey Jaarda sighed. Drew a hand through his thinning hair. Smiled at his daughter. “To find a reason to live, I suppose.”

Jessamyn blinked. Oh.

“I see,” she said. Which was completely untrue.

“Yes,” her father said, as if agreeing to some point Jess had made. “It’s helping, having you back. She’s much better than she was.”

This is better? Jess shook her head ever so slightly.

“We’re both so happy to have you home,” said her father.

Home.

She tried to smile at him. But this wasn’t home anymore, and they both knew it.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, suddenly tired. “Tell Crusty I said goodnight.”

Her father nodded, his attention drifting back to her mother.

Jessamyn walked to the hall, pausing to decide which room offered the better hope of a good night’s sleep: hers or her brother’s? Behind, she heard her mother’s artificial laughter again.

She’s trying so hard.

Reluctantly, Jess admitted her mom might need Ethan’s room more than she did, and she turned toward her own room.

She crawled into bed, but sleep wouldn’t come.

She had too many problems to solve. Problems no one else was going to solve, it seemed. They chased one another in her head, like pebbles tossed round in