CHAPTER 37
January 16, 2091 (Earth timeline)
March 19, 2090 (Ship timeline)
approximately 6 light-months from Earth
3.64 light-years from Proxima
Chloe juggled the little redheaded infant about in the baby pouch strapped across her chest in order to adjust the backpack she had on her back. She did her best to hold the bottle in place for Samari with her left hand while she opened the glass door to the training building with her right. Once she got the door wedged open with her foot, Chloe kicked it wide enough to slide through and push it the rest of the way open with her backpack by leaning backward into it. Just as it looked like she was going to make it through, one of the straps on the backpack looped around the L-shaped angle aluminum door pull, fixing her to it as it swung wider with the sharp gust of north Alabama winter wind that nearly knocked her off her feet.
It was getting cold and looked like it was going to rain. The last thing Chloe needed at that moment was to have her back stuck to a door while there was a baby on her chest. The only upside to getting caught on the door was that being hung up with it actually kept her from losing her balance, but had she not been hung on the door she would have already been inside and the wind wouldn’t have been an issue.
Then the rain started.
“Shit!” she muttered to herself as she grasped outward for handholds in any direction. The bottle flew from her left hand and Samari promptly let her know by screaming her lungs out. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy will get it together.”
Chloe reached with her left hand for the bottle but was so affixed to the door handle that she couldn’t reach it either. Samari continued to cry for the bottle with her little hands outstretched, reaching, and the fact that she was now being pelted by raindrops didn’t help matters. Chloe was suddenly overwhelmed by the fact that she’d been trying to do everything as a single parent for the last year, while at the same time working mostly around the clock training for her new job. The training was intense and took every waking second of her day. At the same time, taking care of an infant by herself mostly took every waking second of her day as well. Roy’s parents helped as much as they could and she had considered hiring a full-time nanny, but she didn’t want to deprive Samari of both parents.
She was the primary bread winner now, although the company had taken good care of them due to what happened with Roy, but she was not just going to sit idly by on that money. No, Chloe had a plan. She had a plan to fix things as best they could be fixed. But at the moment, that plan was wearing her down. No, it was literally beating her down and she was almost to the breaking point and ready to tap out. She started crying uncontrollably and just couldn’t stop it. Being a medical doctor, she understood that she was having post-partum hormone imbalances. She made a mental note to see an endocrinologist to get that straightened out as soon as possible. She continued to cry but there was just enough rain to cover the tears.
“Here, ma’am, let me help you with that.” A young Space Force major grabbed the bottle from the ground and handed it to her. Chloe accepted it and quickly shoved it in the baby’s mouth. Samari went right to it and stopped crying immediately.
“Thank you.”
“Hold on a minute. You’re really strapped into this thing back here.”
“I can manage . . . ” she started to say through sniffles. She wiped the tears and rain from her eyes as best she could and tried to straighten herself.
“No worries, ma’am. Just one more second—aha! Got it. There you go. All free.” The soldier smiled at her and helped her get her balance. “I’ve seen you around the base a bit. I’m Malcolm Reyes.”
“Thank you, Malcolm.” She continued to cry. “I’m, Chloe, Chloe Burbank. Space medical.”
“Ma’am, are you okay?” the major asked her. Chloe nodded her head in the affirmative even though it was clearly a lie.
“I, uh, well, I am just tired,” Chloe lied verbally to go along with the opposing body language. She was more than tired. She was worn ragged and fighting depression on top of that. But she wasn’t going to quit. “Thanks again . . . but . . . I’ll be fine. I have to get to class.”
“Where’re you headed?”
“Trauma Care in Microgravity. Third floor, um, conference room three-oh-one.” The major looked at her and then the baby. “I know, I know, but I couldn’t get a babysitter because the damned instructor changed the class time on me. And I emailed him to get a VR link but he never responded. And I can’t miss the class or I can’t get into the second part in Boulder next month. And dammit, this is the last time this one is offered in time. I can’t miss these classes. I have to get certified. And I think I’m going to be late.”
“Fancy, that. I’m going to the third floor, also. Let me give you a hand with your bag.” He reached to take the bag but Chloe stopped him.
“No thanks, Malcom. I can handle it.” Chloe straightened her posture and wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket. The Alabama winters got cold every now and then, but it was nothing like Colorado was going to be next month when she got there. Either way, she was glad to get inside and out of the weather. She was sure Samari was too.
“Really, ma’am. No bother.” Major Reyes took her backpack and ushered her toward the elevator. “I’m going that way.”
“Again, thank you.” Chloe had to sometimes just accept help. It was not there often and she needed to force herself to take every little hand-up and break offered. Being the one needing help was atypical for her.
“Yes ma’am. And who’s this little beauty?”
“This is Samari.” Chloe held one of her baby’s hands and waved it at the major. Samari didn’t seem to care. She cooed around the nipple from the bottle in her mouth and swatted her free hand back and forth and then grasped the bottle with both hands. “Say hi, baby.”
“Hello, Samari.”
After the elevator, Major Reyes led them down the hallway past several light tan faux-wood doors. Finally, they reached the door marked 301 and he opened it for her. Chloe nodded a thank-you but he motioned her to go on in.
“Go ahead. I’ve got this.” He held up the bag and followed her to an empty seat on the second row behind the main conference table. Chloe looked at her watch.
“I think we’re a few minutes late.”
“No worries,” Major Reyes said.
Chloe shuffled her stuff around and then made herself comfortable in her seat. She checked to make certain Samari’s bottle was filled and she prayed that after that, she’d be sleepy. If there were a bowel movement, she’d just have to slip out the back of the room and find the bathroom. She kissed Samari on the head. “You are being good for Mommy, right?”
“Major Reyes, I have the simulator ready to go, sir.” A civilian that Chloe didn’t know approached them. “We’re ready when you are.”
Chloe gulped and quickly panicked. She tapped at her datapad, bringing up the roster for the short course training. It listed the instructor as Dr. M. R. Reyes, Major USSF Reserve. Chloe was so embarrassed.
“Here’s your bag, Dr. Burbank. And don’t worry, if things get stressful with young Samari here”—he patted her on the head and baby-talked a bit with her—“just slip out. If you miss something today, I’ll make sure you can get caught up. You know we have a day care on the first floor?”
“I thought that was for military only.” Chloe was still embarrassed.
“Military, yes, but it’s also for flight crews in training.”