21. Black Flag
TWENTY-ONE
BLACK FLAG
Flynn
I still haven’t managed to scramble an egg.
Which is probably the first lesson in ‘fending for yourself 101,’ aka ‘adulting.’ Even so, I have realized I will never earn that badge, insomuch that if my survival is one day dependent on me cooking eggs, I’m a certified dead man.
Grilled cheese, however, is a different story. I dominate the grilled cheese game.
I’m cooking for Jackie tonight. To be fair, grilled cheese is what I cook most nights we don’t eat out or get take-out, but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she was so overcome with gratitude when I made it for her after work last week, I swear she almost cried.
Personally, I think she’s set the bar too low.
Though, after she’d told me about her dickhead ex, it makes sense.
Even in my more douchebag school years I’d never made bets on a girl putting out.
That’s a whole new kind of low. And knowing that dickface is just forty-five minutes away in Houston, playing for my city’s baseball team, chafes.
Chafes hard. But part of the reason Jackie opened up to me, apart from wanting to explain why she’d been so quick to assume the worst when she saw me with Beth, was promising I said I wouldn’t do anything about the close proximity of her ex.
Which was an easy promise to make before I heard the whole story.
Now? I want to pummel his ass with his own bat.
Although I now regret that promise, Jackie and I have come a long way since then.
It’s been two weeks since the emergency spacewalk, since the night I took Jackie home and held her as she slept, exhausted from stress and worry.
The morning after, we talked. I explained the what-the-fuck fallout from Beth showing up at Boondoggles, complete with the incestuous backstory of Holt and her having slept together.
We’d verbally committed to our relationship, so there’d be no further confusing anomalies (Jackie’s words).
And then we talked some more. We’ve talked about our childhoods, our aspirations, and how our past relationships influenced our present.
And we kept talking. We’ve even talked about the small stuff, like how Jackie thinks avocado toast is overrated and how I think self-driving cars will be the first step toward Armageddon.
I now know she was scared out of her mind for her friend Jules during the spacewalk, but she set aside her fear and worked on a solution, like the badass she is.
And I know she wants a dog and two kids, just like me.
Well, if I had my way it’d be more like four kids and two dogs. But, you know, close enough.
Our talks have continued every night after work when she comes to my house in her piece of shit Honda. We’ve gone out a few times, meeting up with Rose and Trish, but mostly we order in take-out or I show off my culinary grilled cheese skills. I try a new cheese each time. I’m awesome like that.
It’s been a great two weeks.
I’m trying hard not to lose my man-card over how happy she makes me, but it’s a near thing.
Smart, beautiful and funny. Jackie’s the trifecta, for sure.
I hear the garage door opening, which gives me a few minutes to set the table.
And by set the table, I mean scooping the sandwiches onto paper plates and plopping them down on the counter. Two bottles of water, an apple each, and I’m set. Gourmet at its finest.
The laundry room door opens and closes. “Flynn?”
Yeah, that’s right, not only did I give Jackie my extra garage remote, but she has a house key too. This shit is serious.
“Hey, babe, in the kitchen,” I call out across the great room, ripping two paper towels off for napkins.
Jackie comes bounding into the room in that special way that she does when she’s excited. It’s not quite skipping, but it’s damn close.
She bounces to a stop in front of me, smiling wide. “Hey.”
I lean down and kiss her, my favorite part of the day. Well, if you don’t count bedroom time.
I pull back and rub my nose lightly against hers. “Okay, spill.”
She leans in, placing her hands on my chest. “How did you know I have something to tell you?” She pouts and it’s adorable.
I touch her nose with mine again. “Never mind how. Tell me. What has you so happy?” I gesture to the paper plates. “Besides my awesome dinner, of course.”
Jackie looks over at the dinner set-up and lets out a happy sigh. I love how she loves the small things.
And then she snaps back to attention, full of energy again. “You’ll never believe who called me today.”
“Well, if I’ll never guess, you better tell me.” I reach for her hips and draw her in closer. Which I regret when she bounces on her toes again, nearly slamming her forehead into my nose.
“The astronaut office! They called to set up my final interview, Flynn.” She is full-out jumping up and down now and I’m momentarily distracted from her words due to the wonderful things her exuberance is doing for her boobs.
She stops bouncing, much to my disappointment, and holds her thumb and index finger up, only an inch apart. “I’m this close to becoming an astronaut! Can you believe it?” And then she’s bouncing again while my legs become rooted to the spot, as if they are weighed down with lead.
“Wait. What?” I put my hands on her shoulders, holding her still. I catch her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
My tone must surprise her, either that or the intensity of my stare, because she gives me a funny look before shaking it off. “The final step in the astronaut hiring process. You know, the one I’ve been going through, that I told you about?”
My ears are buzzing and the heaviness in my legs has spread to my chest. “You told me you got through the first round, but I thought becoming an astronaut was a really fucking long process, and crazy hard or something. Isn’t it basically impossible?”
“Well, yeah, but?—”
“And why are you so excited? I mean, I held you as you cried not two weeks ago. And you told me a big part of that was how scared you’d been for Jules. I thought that alone would cure you of this ridiculous scheme.”
Jackie steps away from my grasp, my hands sliding off her shoulders. “Ridiculous?”
Part of my brain knows I’m spiraling. That I need to take a step back and a couple deep breaths and not say something I’m going to regret.
But the larger part smells the burning engines, hears the metal crumpling, chokes on the devastation from the inevitable crash.
I can’t seem to separate my parents’ end from the history of space shuttle crashes, ISS safety alarms and the gut-wrenching feeling of Jackie being in constant danger.
“It’s too dangerous.”
Jackie lets out a nervous laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
I just continue to look at her.
“You realize that statistically speaking, mechanics and those who drive vintage cars without all the modern safety features are more likely to injure themselves than astronauts, right?”
I still don’t say anything. I can’t. All I see is twisted metal and fire.
She lays a hand on my arm. “I’m sure if I give you all the?—”
“No,” I hear myself saying.
I can’t see Jackie’s face anymore. She’s a blur, even though she’s just a foot away. But I hear her, her voice timid and shaky.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
I blink repeatedly, bringing her beautiful face back into focus. “I mean no, you can’t be an astronaut.” She flinches. “Not if you want to be with me.”