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Beside her photo, there’s a short paragraph describing her accomplishments at Caltech.
Raelynn Birdie, a junior studying engineering and computer science, just completed her first year working in the lab of Melissa Olmsted, Caltech professor of computer science. Birdie is interested in designing systems that integrate algorithm and sensor design to better observe phenomena previously impossible to measure with traditional methods. Birdie plans to maintain her position in Professor Olmsted’s lab through the remainder of her time at Caltech as they work in collaboration with the Event Horizon Telescope to capture images of black holes and analyze them to learn more about general relativity in the strong-field regime.
My eyebrows are in my hair.
What the hell did I just read?
General relativity? Black holes?
What in the world is Raelynn doing at Dale’s Diner?
Chapter Twelve
Raelynn
I’m chugging along on a conveyor belt I can’t escape from. What little money does come in goes right back out. I wake up early on my day off from Dale’s and count the cash in tips I received the day before, playing the game where I triage pressing life matters: do I want to fill Nan’s car with gas or take it in for the oil change that was due six months ago, do I want to buy more prepaid minutes for my cell phone or get some groceries. I settle on putting half the cash toward gas (that’ll last me a few measly days) and spend the rest on the oil change. The guys at the mechanic shop try to sell me other services, crap I’m sure the car truly needs, but until it actually sputters and dies on me mid-drive, I’ll take my chances.
From there, I head over to visit Nan. When I walk into her room, an orderly is tidying up around her bed and aims a kind smile my way when she sees me at the door.
“Hey, sugar. She’s been sleepin’ most of the morning,” she warns me.
“Really?”
“Yeah. They gave her somethin’ to calm her down. She was real nasty when she first woke up this mornin’. Wouldn’t listen to nobody.”
I nod in understanding. “Thanks for letting me know.”
She leaves, dropping her hand to my shoulder in quiet support, and then I pull up a chair beside Nan’s bed, reaching out to take her fragile hand in mine. Her skin is papery thin as I run my thumb back and forth across her knuckles. I sit like that for a while, just studying her as she sleeps peacefully.
“Sorry you had a bad morning, Nan. Want me to read to you for a bit?”
I pull out a heavy textbook from my bag and plop it on the edge of her bed so I can flip open to the chapter I started reading last night. If Nan were awake, she’d be happy to listen to me read. She was the one who first encouraged me to study hard and focus on my education. She fostered my love of learning, and even though my courses at Caltech were a bit over her head, she was so proud to hear about what I was up to in California.
When I was little, she’d tell me all the time, “You’re gonna go to the moon one day, Birdie.”
Turns out, I’m going nowhere but here.
In Piggly Wiggly later, I grab what items I need and add them to my basket, tallying up the price in my head as I go. I can’t spend more than twenty dollars and I’d like to get Nan some of her favorite caramel candies, so I put back the grapes I was eyeing and grab some bananas instead. As I stand in line at checkout, everyone’s chatting on about Ben and the rest of the basketball players. It’s all anyone wants to talk about these days.
“I hear they’re only in town two more weeks before they head to Tokyo,” Debra says to the customer she’s ringing up. “We’ll miss them when they go. That fancy chef of theirs has been putting in huge grocery orders to feed ’em all.”
The world seems to shrink around me as I process that news.
Two weeks.
A blink.
Somehow I’d forgotten Ben wouldn’t be staying long.
“What about you, Birdie?”
I look up and realize Debra’s staring at me expectantly.
“Sorry. What?”
She laughs. “You guys over at Dale’s gonna miss them when they go? I’ve heard they come in and eat there sometimes. I’m sure they leave good tips and such.”
My stomach hurts too much to give her a decent reply, so I just nod.
Yeah, we’ll miss them.
I pull up to the trailer just as the sun’s going down and unload the groceries from the passenger seat. After I put them away, I check my phone and see another missed call from Professor Olmsted. I know I’ll have to give her a call back one of these days. I can’t keep putting off the inevitable. For now though, I turn off the phone and shower before fixing myself some dinner. I’m sitting at the table a while later when there’s a knock on the door of the trailer.
