Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,44
it the entire day. The get-about wasn’t here anymore because they’d needed it. And retrieving the vehicle had doubtless been highly inconvenient.
She climbed into the sleek MCC vehicle, greeted her driver, and then rode in silence. In her belly, guilt began to build a cozy nest cobbled together from scraps of what she’d done and shreds of what she intended.
Jessamyn agonized over what she might say to her parents. She couldn’t exactly tell them the truth, but she wanted to ease the shock when they discovered what she’d done. They would see it as betrayal or insanity. Jess wasn’t sure which would hurt them more.
From inside the airlock where she shed her suit, Jess saw her father holding her mother tenderly. Another bad day, then.
“I’m back,” she said as she entered her home.
Her parents pulled apart.
“Your mother’s off to consult with Planetary Ag,” said Jess’s father.
“Now?” Jess asked. Her voice had a forlorn sound to it.
“What with the planetary holiday tomorrow, they decided to discuss the algae inoculation idea now,” replied her father. “I’m afraid we had to eat rations without you.”
“Oh,” said Jessamyn, shifting gears to adjust to the alteration in her evening. “So, were Crusty’s ideas any good?”
Her mother’s face formed a look Jess recognized—it was her problem-solving face. “I don’t know,” said Lillian. “That’s why I need to speak with my colleagues.”
As her mom brushed past her to the airlock, Jess felt a sudden need for a hug, for confirmation that her mom still loved her. Would always love her. It was foolish. It was powerful.
“Mom?”
Lillian turned.
“It’s just …” Jess paused.
“Make it fast,” said her mother. “People are staying late for this meeting.”
“I might be leaving,” said Jessamyn. “The day after tomorrow. For a new assignment. I won’t be able to live here.”
A look of anguish crossed her mother’s face and Jess walked closer for a hug.
“Can we discuss this later?” Lillian asked quietly, one hand on the airlock door. “Your father and I would like you to … that is, we were hoping … Hades and Aphrodite, Jess. Why do you always have to make things so difficult?”
The switch from sorrow to anger was swift and cut at Jess like broken glass.
“We’ll talk about it tonight,” said her father.
“Mom, I’m sorry,” said Jessamyn, her voice unsteady.
“Yes, Jessamyn. You’re always sorry. But it never stops you from doing whatever you want to do, does it?”
Her mother slammed the airlock door behind her.
“Your mother didn’t mean that,” said Jess’s father.
Jess sank into her father’s reading chair. They both knew her mom had meant every word.
Jessamyn’s father continued. “I want you to know that you have my blessing, whatever decision you make about your new job.”
Jess looked at her feet. She’d forgotten to take off her walk-out boots. She’d tracked a trail of cinnamon-colored dirt across the floor. “I don’t have Mom’s blessing.”
“She’ll take it hard,” admitted her father. “But Jessie, you can’t bear her grief. You’re not meant to do that. No child is. You have to live the life you were meant to live.”
In a quick flash, Jess saw herself at Pavel’s side, laughing as she pointed to the star-scattered sky dark above them. She pushed her bangs to once side, frowning.
“Doing what is right is never the same as doing what is easy, in my experience,” said her father. “If you think it’s the right thing to do, and it hurts or it scares you or it’s inconvenient, that’s a pretty good sign it is the right thing to do.”
Jess took her father’s hand and squeezed it tight.
He laughed softly. “I could be wrong about that, of course. I keep waiting for the day to come when what’s right lines up with what’s easy.”
Bringing her father’s Mars-roughened hand to her cheek, Jess sighed. “Let me know how that works for you.”
“I was going to ride in with your mom. Will you be okay here by yourself?” asked her father.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, the truth and the lie of her words mixing uneasily.
He offered her a quick squeeze around the shoulders and dashed out to join her mother.
Jess stood in the silent, empty house, watching as her parents drove off. She could make things better tomorrow. Somehow. Shrugging off her boots, she grabbed the old-fashioned vac-hose from the wall and pointed it at the lines of red dirt, erasing a problem she could fix.
Then she sat down to write the one person in the universe she thought would understand her at this moment. She was not