classes, working in the museum was the best way for them to spend time together. Jenny found a better solution to that problem when she informed Winn that even with his job, he couldn’t afford to heat and power his parents’ residence when he only returned home to sleep. Even though it hurt to put an end to that part of his life, Winn bowed to Jenny’s practical wisdom. They now shared a small apartment midway between college and the machine shop, not too far from the museum.
“So, why are you interested in An Informal History of Liquid Rocket Propellants?” Her question brought Winn out of his reverie with a start. Jenny recognized the shake of his head and smiled. “Are you planning on ‘Going to the Moon,’ Winnie?” she laughed. But her eyes twinkled and Winn knew she was only teasing.
“Actually, my friend in Eugene found an old Apollo engine pump, and I figured I needed to understand the principles better before I started on the restoration.” He took the book reader, then laid it carefully on his workbench and folded Jenny in his arms. “So, how was class?”
“Ugh, well, the botany labs are fine, but my lab mates simply will not do their own work.” She grimaced, but then brightened up. “Oh! I have an interview with Melliere!”
“Um, is that a who, a where, or a what?” Winn pulled back slightly to look at Jenny—one eyebrow raised, and the side of his mouth crooked up in a grin.
“Melliere Corp is both a what and a where.” Jenny returned the grin. “The company does agricultural genetics and they have a research station just north of Descartes. I’m interviewing for a lab internship two days a week and weekends. If I get the job, I can commute.”
Winn’s grin faded. Jenny recognized the look and the memory and emotion behind it. She hurried to add, “By tube, not hopper. It’s cheaper, anyway.” The worried look in Winn’s eyes was one familiar to Jenny, so she reached out and held his chin. “It’s only an hour commute, four days a week. Don’t be a worrywart. If they like my work, we can talk about setting up a test plot here after I graduate. Then I won’t have to commute.”
Winn forced a smile, but then the last thing Jenny said sank in. “Really? Wow. That would be nice.” His smile was genuine and he hugged her tightly. “It would be nice to stay right here.”
“Don’t count those chickens yet, Pooh Bear. I still have to graduate, not to mention getting the job. It’s at least a year.” But Jenny hugged back and started thinking of a few plans of her own.
* * *
—
Winn sat at the workbench, just staring at the components on the table. He’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t even donned his parka despite the cold. He really had no idea how long he’d sat there, ignoring the deep chill, not even shivering, before he grimaced and swept the video camera components off the table. They floated gently to the floor, depriving him of the visceral jolt of clatter and breakage.
He supposed it didn’t matter; the video tube was fried, anyway.
Instead, he pounded the table with his fists. The cold had made them numb, and he stopped only when he noticed the smear of blood from the bruised and cracked skin.
He laid his head down on the table, and for only the second time in his life, he cried.
His first indication that anyone was present was the parka settling over his shoulders. The lining was warm; Jenny had taken her own coat off and wrapped it around him, then gone to retrieve his parka from the peg by the pressure hatch. She gathered up the scattered camera parts and placed them in a covered plastic box, filled it with a shot of nitrogen to displace the air, then sealed the cover and placed it on a shelf.
Winn sat motionless while his not-fiancée cleaned up the mess he’d made. Even when she came back and sat at his side, he neither spoke nor moved.
“He’s an idiot. You already knew that,” she said at last.
Winn mumbled something unintelligible.