Vessel

19

“I SAW YOU on TV talking about the launch. You looked great, Mom.”

Aimee and Catherine were putting away groceries in Catherine’s new apartment. It was small and dim compared to the bright, airy house she’d left behind in Clear Lake, but, Catherine told herself, it was all hers. And it was in the complex Aimee had picked out for her, close to David’s house. It was odd how easy it was to think of it as David’s and not hers already. Aimee had come over for the weekend, ostensibly to help Catherine unpack and get organized, but Catherine got the feeling that her daughter was checking up on her.

That was fair enough. Catherine would have been worried, too.

“Thanks.” She smiled faintly as she tried to figure out which tiny cabinet should serve as a pantry. “Paul finally managed to talk me into it, so now I’m NASA’s go-to for all things Sagittarius these days.”

“That’s good, though, right?” Aimee was on her knees on the tile floor, rearranging the refrigerator, what little there was in it. If Aimee noticed the many bottles of wine in the fridge and cupboard, she didn’t comment. Catherine had finally figured out the exact amount of alcohol it took throughout the day to maintain the silence in her head. It wasn’t as much as she feared, and she was able to keep from actively drinking during working hours. She hadn’t heard Tom’s voice since the launch.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a good thing.” NASA was pretty much all she had these days. Cal Morganson hadn’t confronted her directly again. But there was still that strange moment after the launch, when he just stared at her instead of smiling. He didn’t talk to her afterward, either, as the flight controllers offered each other congratulations. She got the feeling that while he wasn’t actively antagonistic toward her anymore, he was still keeping a close watch on her. “How are things going for your big move?”

“It’s okay.” She grinned up at Catherine. “You know me, I have lists on top of lists and then a list of all my lists. You’re still planning to come help me move in, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Aimee was quiet for a few minutes and then asked, “Even if Dad comes, too?” She stood and dusted off her knees.

“Of course.” Catherine sensed something behind that, some bigger topic of conversation, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that just yet.

“Mom, are you two ever going to talk to each other again?”

She and David hadn’t spoken much, beyond what was required for joint parenting and for occasionally working together. “So what classes are you taking this fall?” Catherine deflected.

Aimee sighed but went along with the new subject. “Yeah. Calculus, for sure. It’s probably going to kick my ass, but I need it as a prereq for pretty much everything.”

“Didn’t you take AP Calculus in high school? Why do you have to take it again?”

Aimee gathered up the empty grocery bags. “This is more advanced stuff. I actually got to skip a couple of the intro classes thanks to my AP credits.”

“Well… there’re tutors, right? Don’t forget to ask for help if you need it.”

“You’re one to talk.”

There was a chill in those words, and Catherine stopped rummaging through the pile of take-out menus she’d already collected and looked at Aimee more closely. “What do you mean?”

“Dad.” Aimee closed the refrigerator door with more force than necessary, and Catherine could see the tension rippling through her as she fought to hold back. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging my question. Did you ask for any sort of help at all to fix things with him? Do you ever ask for help?”

“Aims… I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about this yet.”

“You can’t avoid it forever.”

“I’m not avoiding it. It’s just— none of this has been easy, with the launch, and your grandma, and then moving—”

“Just tell me this.” Aimee angrily shoved the paper bags into the recycling bin. “Did you even try? You guys were fine! We were a family! One little fight and you just walk out on us again?”

Ready or not, it looked like they were having this conversation right now. Catherine leaned her hip against the kitchen counter and folded her arms. “Honey, your dad and I… we did try. But we were apart for almost ten years, and… in that time, we both changed. Your father moved on.”

“But you were married for almost twenty years!” Aimee’s hurt was written all over her face, and it broke Catherine’s heart.

“I know, sweetheart. But we spent half of that time apart.” Catherine hated like hell that Aimee was learning that loving someone wasn’t always enough to make a relationship work.

“So, you just gave up on us.”

“Aimee. Aimee, no, I will never, ever give up on you. No matter what happens between your father and me, you are my daughter and I will always be here for you.”

“Sure, the way you’ve always been here. Except for that one time, for nine years.” Aimee walked out of the kitchen and Catherine followed her.

“Aimee—”

“You and Dad are both adults, and if the two of you can’t fix a relationship after being apart for so long, how am I supposed to be able to? How am I ever going to be able to trust that you’re really my mom again?”

Catherine paused in the kitchen doorway, searching for the answer. “It’s… it’s a different relationship, Aimee. I’m always going to be your mom.” It was a weak answer, but it was all she had.

“You know, this is supposed to be the most exciting time of my life. I’m going to college! It’s scary and fun and everything’s new—and instead of focusing on that, I’m stuck dealing with this shit.” Aimee crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know why I came here. You don’t need me.”

“I’m not supposed to need you!” Catherine snapped. “That’s not how this works!”

“You don’t need anybody. You never have, have you?”

Aimee was parroting David’s words back to her. Had he been talking to her about Catherine? “Did you hear that from your father?”

“No! Mom, I’m not a child anymore. I can see things for myself.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Why did you come home if you were just going to leave again? It was easier when you were dead. Why didn’t you just die?”

Catherine smacked Aimee across the face. It was like watching it from outside herself, watching her hand fly up and back and not being able to stop it.

Aimee stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, and Catherine stared back, the stinging of her hand and the red mark on Aimee’s cheek the only evidence of what had happened.

“Aimee—”

“I’m going home.” Aimee snatched up her purse and headed for the door.

“Please, no, wait—” Catherine reached for her and Aimee whirled.

“Don’t touch me.”

For a frightened moment, Catherine didn’t know the girl in front of her, and thought she might strike back. Aimee turned and left without another word, leaving Catherine to stare at the closed apartment door.

Oh God, what have I done?

She sank onto the couch, horrified at herself, at her loss of control. At the way she’d hurt the one person she was trying not to hurt. David. I have to call him.

She scrambled for her cell phone and dialed David’s number. It went straight to voice mail, and she realized he was probably already talking to Aimee. “David, it’s Catherine. Aimee and I had a fight; she’s coming over there now. Please take care of her. And… and if she’ll listen, please tell her how sorry I am.” She hung up, too ashamed to tell him what she’d done.

You’re just terrible at relationships in general, aren’t you?

Catherine froze. Tom. “Leave me alone!”

I mean, I thought it was just me, but no. Now I see it wasn’t me at all. It was you, Catherine. It’s always been you. You’re the fuckup.

Without thinking, she found herself in the kitchen, grabbing a glass and the open bottle of chardonnay in the refrigerator. She filled the glass and went back to the battered secondhand couch in the living room, her hand flexing against the fading sting. One glass helped a bit. Two, and she felt a little more in control of herself. By the time she’d finished the bottle and started a second one, Tom was quiet, dinner forgotten, and she’d ignored three phone calls. As she stared blankly at some sitcom on her tiny television, there was nothing in her mind but a soft, blissful hum.