Satellites

6. Missed Call

Missed Call

Jude

Adam Ransom was one hell of a guy. More accurately, he was the biggest prick I’d ever known, and the fact that I hadn’t decked him across the table was a testament to how far I’d come.

Progress, I guess. Or maybe restraint. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration filled with pride and a whole lot of relief.

I’d graduated from STEM Academy with the highest GPA, half my college credits, and an acceptance letter to the Air Force Academy waiting for me in the fall. I was only a few steps away from my dream—Space Force, advanced research, a future studying SOL and implementing it into various fields.

Adam—the man who gave me half my DNA and nothing else—chose that moment, at an upscale restaurant in Dallas with my saint of a mother and grandmother beside us, to announce he was getting married.

It was at this moment that his bride (who could not be more than a few years older than me) chose to waltz in late, wearing the shortest dress I’d ever seen, barely acknowledging anyone at the table.

It was also the moment it clicked… Adam and I shared nothing but a jawline and some lousy letters strung into a name.

After everything he’d put us through, this had to be the worst of it.

I kept hoping someday he’d walk through our front door, set down his bags, and announce he’d given it all up for us. Naively, for me.

It was a fruitless wish cast by an eight year old with a wound only his father could mend.

Now that I was no longer a child, I could see it for what it was…

hopeless. Expecting Adam to give up his career was akin to asking me to give up SOL—I understood that now.

The worst part was that I didn’t even begrudge him for it.

What I loathed about him was that he knew what he wanted to do with his life, and yet he strung my mom along as if he’d wanted to settle down and start a family.

She was seven months pregnant with me the first time he disappeared for a few months.

He came back, of course. Only to leave again when I was three.

It was a pattern that continued until my mom couldn’t take it anymore and told him if he walked out the door, she didn’t want him to come back.

So he didn’t.

I shoved a spear of asparagus across my plate, my grip tightening around the fork. Even Shay’s—if that was her name; who the fuck knew, who the fuck cared—voice scraped against my nerves as she prattled on about their wedding in Italy.

Italy.

My mom had always wanted to go. I looked up at Adam.

“So, Jude,” he said lightly. “I was thinking, after the Academy, I could probably get you into the Space Force. Though I’d really hoped you’d consider NASA’s offer…

” His voice tapered off as he swirled the whiskey in his glass.

The gesture made my teeth grind together.

“But between Dr. Ebbard’s recommendation and mine—”

My fork clattered to the plate. His recommendation? My vision blurred red. I was going to get into the Space Force, but it was going to be done on the merit of my work. Not him. “With all due offense,” I bit out, leaning forward, jaw set, “your recommendation doesn’t mean shit.”

“Jude, language,” my mom pleaded.

“It’s okay Rose.” Adam wiped his mouth with his napkin, tossed it to his plate, and scooted back an inch as if ready for a fight.

Fuck him.

“If you have something to say, then say it. But I’m not going to sit here and pretend you aren’t wasting your mind in the hands of bureaucrats and generals. I tried to give you my advice—”

“The only thing I ever wanted from you was your time. Your attention. You couldn’t give me that.

” My voice stayed steady, and I fixed my gaze on him, even as rage twisted tighter in my chest. “So let’s be clear—the second I walk out those doors—” I pointed toward the revolving glass entrance behind him, “ —I want nothing from you. No calls. No emails. No favors. Nothing.” I shook my head, a humorless laugh slipping out.

“It’s almost funny. You sit here talking about marriage and starting a family when you’ve been running from yours for over a decade. ”

My grandmother’s hand settled gently over my arm. I looked down at her and the quiet understanding in her eyes. She gave me a small nod toward the door. Exhaling, some of the heat drained out of me.

“Yeah,” I murmured, patting her hand before pushing my chair back to stand. Mom was already gathering her things beside me. “Adam,” I said, not bothering to look at him again, “it’s been nice knowing you. Have a good life.”

I picked up my grandmother’s bag before slipping her arm through mine. Together, we walked out, my mother close behind us, leaving Adam exactly where he belonged—right where he’d left us. Behind.

“Are you coming back to the hotel, Jude?” Mom’s voice was tight, as we piled into the rental car.

I could tell she was trying to hold it together for my sake, even though she didn’t have to.

Adam was my dad, and as much my burden as he once was hers.

I was the only reason she was still tied to him, which subconsciously I knew I shouldn’t feel guilty for—but damn.

It was hard to watch your mom cry. Especially over a loser.

Even harder when that loser was your sperm donor.

“Mom,” I started, only to hesitate. I wasn’t sorry for ruining dinner. Anger still hummed beneath my skin. He was an asshole and he’d had it coming, but my mom’s eyes in the rearview mirror were glassy and tired. It was a shot to my heart. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t apologize. You stood up for yourself.” She turned, gaze relieving me of my guilt as she steadied it on the blur of trees outside her window.

My grandmother patted my hand once more as I shifted into drive. “Let’s get home,” she added, humming to herself.

Silence filled the car as we drove back to campus to grab the last of my things, then on to the hotel.

Once I got them settled in the room, I slipped out with a beer I had stashed in my bag.

Climbing to the rooftop, I stretched out on one of the lounge chairs, and let the night air settle over me.

It was thick and sticky, a true Texas summer that clung to the skin.

Mostly, it was hot, and nothing close to summers back home.

Scrolling through my phone, I flicked past one news clip after another. Every headline, worse than the last. Tension between the United States and Russia was climbing, dragging half the world along with it.

“Great,” I muttered, taking a long pull from the bottle. “Just what we need.”

Everything was teetering lately, and right in the middle of my breakthrough with SOL.

The project was gaining traction faster than anyone expected.

Faster than I’d expected for sure. I’d already sat through two meetings with government officials who looked like they were trying to reconcile the fact that the person across the table from them—the one explaining the projections and real world applications—was only nineteen.

To my surprise, SOL was already being considered for implementation across multiple fields—defense, aerospace, energy, and medical.

I signed off on the patent weeks ago. Contracts were being drafted, funding approvals were nearly there.

NASA would have offered me employment two weeks ago if I wasn’t barely legal. Screw Adam.

SOL was going to be the reason a Ransom made it to space. Which was almost ironic considering how badly Adam wanted to go. I snorted, taking another drink.

My thumb hovered over the small picture of Solace, arms raised, baton in the air.

I snapped it over a year ago in band when she wasn’t looking and set it as her contact picture.

Monday nights were long in the Davis household.

Milo had swim practice and Solace held piano lessons for elementary students for a few hours before going to work at the movie theater.

Mr. Davis was busy with coaching spring track and Dr. Davis worked long hours at the hospital.

With graduation this weekend, I imagined their schedule being even more packed, but it didn’t stop me from pressing call.

Solace’s phone rang a few times before cutting to voicemail. Figured.

I don’t really know what possessed me to do it, but I rang Milo instead, setting the phone on speaker.

“What’s up,” he answered after only a few rings.

I sat up, rubbing my arm across my forehead. “Oh hey man, I didn’t think you’d answer. What’s up?”

“Not much. Sitting at home, playing a few rounds. You gonna hop on?” Milo was sixteen now, and pretty much since a year ago, consistently kicking my ass at any game we played.

“Nah. I was trying to get a hold of Solace. Is she with a student?” Solace held piano lessons in their sitting room on the baby grand piano she’d gotten for her sixteenth birthday from her parents.

“No you just missed her actually. Some guy picked her up like twenty minutes ago. You know that empty restaurant downtown? They turned it into a smokehouse, they’re trying it out. I told her to bring me back some honey rolls, I hear they’re super good.”

I clutched the phone tighter. “Who picked her up?”

“I don’t know, Lucas or Luke—no wait, Luca. His name was Luca, I think. Cool dude.”

Silence filled the line, even though my heart was racing.

Milo cleared his throat. “You good?”

“Yep. I’ll call her after her date. Thanks dude.”

“No problem man. See ya.”

The line went dead as I took another swig, hoping to squash the jealousy rising in my gut. I opened the airline app, found our flights and scrolled through sooner ones.

“I thought I’d find you up here.”

Peering out of the corner of my eye I caught my grandmother plodding towards me carefully. Shit. I tucked the beer below the lounger.

“Too late, Jude Shin Ransom.” She ambled up and settled beside me on the lounger. “Give it to me.”

I hesitated only a second before handing it over. She took it, surprising me by taking a long drag, then immediately made a face.

“This is gross.”

I laughed under my breath. “Yeah, it is.”

She set it on the table between our sun loungers, then sighed. “Your grandfather would be proud of you, you know.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, I leaned back against the chair, hands settling against my stomach. “I hope so.”

“We weren’t pleased when your mother chose Adam. We wanted to see her—”

“I know, I know.” She’d told me the story five hundred times, much to my mother’s chagrin.

“Happy,” she finished with a bright smile. “You make your mother happy. You make all of us happy.” Studying me, she leaned over to place a small palm against my cheek. Her skin was warm. “Your father could have been happy.”

I looked away.

“We all choose our happiness. You are finding yours. What you said to him today was very brave, and he needed to hear it.”

Leaning over, I wrapped my arm around her and tucked her into my side the best I could. The city was still alive below us, cars honking and lights flashing. It was a welcome distraction from all the turmoil mounting in my head. Graduation. My project. Adam. Basic training. The news. Solace…

No matter the distance, I couldn’t seem to sever our tie.

She was at the back of my mind when I was awake and a shadow dancing along my eyelids when I drifted off to sleep.

I thought moving to a different state and attending a different school might change our relationship, might give us the distance we needed, but if anything it only cemented our bond. We talked morning, noon, and night.

About everything except dates apparently. My arm slipped from where I held my grandmother in a hug.

She took it as her opportunity to bid me goodnight and scold me for the beer, before shuffling back toward the elevator, leaving me alone to sit with my tyrant thoughts.

Of the bullshit between Adam and I, and the looming war that I would soon find myself caught in.

But even that route of thought couldn’t keep Solace from pulling me back.

Her dark skin and velvet eyes. Her rich laugh, that skated down my spine.

As if conjured from thought alone, my phone buzzed.

I glanced at the screen, to where Solace’s picture now took up the whole frame. A small and stupid relief flickered as I answered, “Hey—”

“Ransom?”

I hated sharing that name with Adam. I used to despise seeing it written and wished I would have been given my mothers surname, until it came pouring out of Solace’s mouth like dribbled honey.

A smile tugged at my face. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Sorry I missed you earlier.” Her voice was sparkling, and a little breathless, as if she’d been laughing. Faintly in the background there was another voice, deeper and clearly male. “I’m out right now—grabbing food with a… shhh. Sorry—anyway, what’s up?”

My grip tightened around the bottle before I even realized it. “It’s nothing.” The words rushed out of me even though I’d hardly meant it.

There was a pause.

“Are you sure?” Her voice became clearer, like maybe she’d stepped outside or cupped her hand around the speaker. “Are you okay?” A thread of worry laced itself throughout her tone, immediately sinking into my gut.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. We’ll talk later when you’re not busy.”

“You’re fine?” she pressed.

“Yeah, it’s all good. Have a good night.”

Another beat.

“Okay, if you’re certain. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”

The call ended and my chest never loosened, so I went back to my phone and began switching our flights.