“He would see through that.”
“I’m not going to have him jeopardize the program, or the people in it, for the sake of his ego.”
Or for mine, for that matter. Nathaniel didn’t say it, but here we came to the problem. I didn’t want anyone to know that I had anxiety. While some of that was fear that they wouldn’t let me go into space, the rest of it was the same old concern. What would people think? And then, beneath that, the fear that they were right. “He’s been deferring missions while he tried to figure out what was going on.”
“But now there’s the moon.” The streetlights lit his hair into a corona. “You really think he’s going to defer that?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. I’ll have to get rid of the pills, that’s for certain. And stop seeing the doctor. The more time between my last refill and when Parker outs me, the better. He will, though … Not immediately, because if he did, I would have no reason to keep silent.”
Nathaniel’s head snapped back to me. “That seems like a very bad idea.”
“What else am I supposed to do?” I spread my hands, but my fingers were shaking, so I rested them in my lap again. “He knows. I don’t know how, but he does.”
With a grunt, Nathaniel turned to pace again. “The driver—that night we stayed in a hotel because of the reporters, I sent a driver to pick up our clothes and your prescription.”
So it wasn’t just Parker who knew. How long—how long before everyone knew and I got booted from the program and it went into the papers and—
My stomach lurched and twisted in time with my thoughts. I staggered to my feet and barely made it to the bathroom before losing it. Huddled on the bathroom tiles, I clutched the toilet and retched. Nathaniel came in behind me and held my shoulders as all of the accumulated anxiety of the day heaved out of me.
And I hated myself. Daddy would have been so disappointed in me, unable to handle a little pressure. If I couldn’t handle this, maybe I shouldn’t be in the space program. I was stupid and weak, and it didn’t matter how hard I worked: this sickness would always be a part of me.
Nathaniel filled the tumbler from the bathroom sink with water and held it out to me. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“How will you stop him?” My throat hurt as I spoke, but I took the water and swallowed.
“I don’t know.” He ran a hand over my hair and down my back. “Not all of it, at any rate.”
“I don’t even know part of it.” I rocked back to sit on the floor, leaning against the side of the tub.
Nathaniel stood and opened the medicine cabinet.
“No.” My fingers tightened around the tumbler.
Ignoring me, Nathaniel pulled out the bottle of Miltown and crouched in front of me. “Elma … is this better? Throwing up and being miserable? Is that better than whatever it is Parker could do to you?”
“I don’t—” My voice fractured on the pain in my throat. “I don’t know.”
“Then let me tell you what I see.” Nathaniel shifted to squeeze in next to me against the tub. He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him, the pill bottle in one hand.
“Okay.”
“You’re better. With this. I was so—so worried about you before…” He shook the bottle so the pills rattled inside it. “Before this. I could hear when you threw up. You’d stopped eating. We went to bed together, but you didn’t sleep. And you weren’t talking to me about any of it. I thought you might be pregnant, until … that day. In my office. I was really frightened for you. And right now? The idea that Parker might put you through that, deliberately, because he’s made you afraid to use a tool that helps—I would like to punch him.”
That last sentence was so matter-of-fact that a laugh surprised its way out of me. Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I looked up at Nathaniel, but his eyes were squeezed shut, a crease carved between his brows. “You … you aren’t kidding.”
He let his breath out in a controlled stream. “No.” Rolling the bottle in his fingers, he shook his head. “I have never had such a strong urge for violence. If I had been there, I probably would have punched him. And then he would have beaten the tar out of me.”
With each revolution of the bottle, the little white pills inside rattled and shifted. Their tiny clatter promised a blanket of soothing calm. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Do you think the pressure is going to get any lighter?”
Sighing, I folded in on myself, and sagged against Nathaniel. He pulled me tight, pressing his lips against the top of my head. “Here’s what I think. You keep yourself healthy, and then we can deal with Parker. Together. I don’t know how, but I know we can.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because we survived the end of the world.” He kissed me again. “And you are my lady astronaut.”
I followed Nicole’s maid back to her sunken living room, where most of the 99s were munching on hors d’oeuvres and sipping cocktails. Jacira and Sabiha had joined the mix, but I didn’t see Betty or Violette.
“Sorry I’m late. Aunt Esther called, and it took a while to get off the phone.”
“How is the dear?” Nicole rose from the arm of the sofa she was perched on, leaving Imogene with her head bowed over a flight manual. “Martini?”
“Please.” The glory of knowing a senator’s wife was that liquor was never lacking at the Wargin house. I’d taken the Miltown out of my purse, but hadn’t gotten rid of it, and having something to take the edge off seemed very appealing.
Helen bounded across the room to hug me, still holding the manual she’d been studying. “Missed you.”
“Me too. Maybe we can grab dinner sometime?” I’d gone past the computer department a couple of times after my “promotion,” as they called it, but it had been awkward. I kept wanting to check numbers, but that would just annoy everyone. “What are you reading?”
She shrugged. “It’s just orbital trajectory calculations. Pretty basic.”
“Basic for you!” Nicole handed me a martini with a laugh. “Some of us struggle with that stuff.”
“That’s why we trade. You teach me about simulator. I teach you about orbital calculations.”
I raised my glass. “And if someone can get the acronyms through my head, I would be greatly appreciative.”
The clear, cold gin lit up my mouth with all its juniper glory. I closed my eyes and sighed with appreciation as my shoulders relaxed, just a smidge. I’d missed these women. Thank God Nicole had thought about setting up a study group. Opening my eyes, I carried my cocktail and my books over to join Helen on the sofa.
Kicking off my shoes, I settled down and tucked my feet up under me. “No Pearl?”
Helen shook her head and scowled. “She doesn’t think there’s any point in prepping for the astronaut tests.”
“They have to open it up more widely at some point, if it’s really going to be a colonization effort.”
From her spot on the sofa, Nicole nodded. “And that’s something my husband strongly supports.”
“Wait—” I blinked, feeling like I’d missed something. “Are they still talking about keeping it a military venture?”
With a sigh, Nicole scooted forward to face me. “I know you hate the idea, but—”
“But nothing. We have to get off the planet. I mean, sure, they might—and I stress the word might—be able to keep the greenhouse effect from running away, but by the time we know if that’s going to work, it’ll be too late to try to establish colonies elsewhere. We have to do it now, while we have the resources and the time.”