“We are not eating the cat!” Jenna picked up the Siamese and held it close.
“Gimme a break,” Henry snarled. “You know I wasn’t serious.”
“I do not,” Jenna said. “In fact, if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that you have an innate ability to dig through a mountain of data to find the one tiny pebble that backs up your world view. And if that means harming my cat, you’re capable of it!”
“That line of reasoning doesn’t even make sense! Besides, I’d never lay a finger on our cat. You’re just being dramatic.”
“I’m being dramatic?” Jenna laughed bitterly and set the cat down. Sprinkles sauntered to the corner of the small room and began to groom himself, apparently oblivious to his supposed peril. “I’m being dramatic!” Jenna repeated. “That’s hilarious coming from you. You’ve successfully turned every tiny inconvenience we’ve faced here into a full-fledged tragedy!”
“Tiny inconvenience? Is that really what you think? We’re stranded here! For three months! With no food! But,” he shrugged and rolled his eyes. “It’s only a tiny inconvenience.”
“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about! ‘Stranded here with no food,’” she mimicked sourly. “We have NRs enough to last a year, and plenty of water. Our O2 generators are in top form. Transport will be here in ninety days, but you want to make it out like we’re doomed. What is it with you?”
“Have you sampled these so-called Nutritional Rations?” He snatched up a pouch. “They taste like liquid chalk with the natural flavor of the chalk sucked out!” He slammed down the pouch and a little of the gluey liquid splattered onto the shiny black table. The goo immediately evaporated, leaving the table spotless.
“Look,” Jenna said, pointing. “Even the cleaners are still working. Seriously, Henry, this isn’t so bad!”
“It’s plenty bad.”
“Jeez! Why do you always have to look on the bleak side of everything? Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to listen to that?”
“I donno, Jenna,” he spit back. “Why do you have to be such a friggin’ Pollyanna? Do you have any idea how annoying it is to have someone rattling on about how great everything is when any moron can see what a disaster this is?”
Jenna strode across the room and picked up the NR pouch. “Do you think I like this tasteless goop any more than you do?” She threw it across the small room where it splattered against a porthole and fell to the floor. Sprinkles got up from his grooming session to see if he might beat the cleaners to their work.
“Do you think I like any of this?” Jenna yelled. Henry took a step back. He couldn’t remember a time in their twelve-year marriage that she’d yelled at him. “Do you think I savor the prospect of three more months of isolation with your endless pessimistic hyperbole? Maybe you think I like the recycled water? Or these ugly purple walls? Seriously, what sort of sick mind thinks that painting the walls of a laboratory purple is a good idea? Huh? Do you think I like any of it?” she made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “Well, I don’t! I hate it! I hate this stupid lab! I hate the tiny, useless portholes that make it impossible to see more than a sliver of the stars! I hate that I have no privacy outside the latrine! I hate the stale, smelly air we’ve breathed over and over again! I hate the failed transport system that left us here when I was all ready to go home! And most of all, I hate listening to you, a perfectly attractive grown man, complain about it all, every waking moment of our STUPID! HATEFUL! EXISTENCE! HERE!”
She turned and stormed off toward the latrine. Henry wiped the spittle from his face, too stunned to do anything else.
Ninety minutes later, Jenna returned composed. Her eyes widened as she took in the uncommon scene.
The lights were dimmed, and there was classical music playing over the wall speakers. The table was covered with a white cloth. Crudely made paper flowers were arranged in a flask from the lab. Two smaller flasks, each with its own glass straw, contained the evening’s neatly poured Nutritional Rations. Henry had even lit an old-fashioned alcohol burner. If she squinted in the lowered light, it looked almost like a candle. In the corner of the room, Sprinkles was happily lapping dinner from his own flask.
“Will this do?” Henry asked.
“Do for what?” Jenna croaked.
“For an apology,” Henry said kissing her cheek and leading her to the table. They both sat down. Henry reached across and took her hand. “I’m sorry, Honey. Really. I guess it just made me feel better to talk about what was bugging me. I didn’t realize I did it so much, and it certainly never occurred to me that I was making things tougher on you. Can you forgive me?”
Jenna smiled her adorably stunning, dimpled smile and Henry felt like the room lit up. She squeezed his hand and bent down for a sip of supper.
“Do you really find me perfectly attractive?” he asked.
“No,” she smirked, her eyes sparkling. “I just said that because I was mad.”
“Oh really?” he said. “You know, if getting you mad is what it takes to get a compliment around here, it’s not too late to roast the cat.” He snapped his fingers in the direction of the Siamese. “Here kitty, kitty,” he sang. Sprinkles ignored him.
Jenna kicked him in the shin with her bare foot. “What I meant, you dope,” she said, getting up and bringing her face close to his. “Was that I find you devastatingly attractive... despite your imperfections.”
“What do you say,” Henry said between kisses. “We make the best out of a bad situation.”
“I do love an optimist,” Jenna replied.