She had no idea what that rest would be. At the moment, she didn’t think it mattered.

Chapter 6

Staring into the blank screen that had held his mother’s face moments before, Jase Garrett wasn’t sure what to do next. Part of him wanted to scream. Sure, he’d met a couple of her crew and they were nice, but maybe that was because he was the captain’s kid. But when his mother started getting all reasonable, when she acted so grown-up and like she had to go take care of all these adults who were acting like kids, he just wanted to haul off and yell and scream and stamp his feet: I’m more important! I don’t care what you have to do, I don’t care how important you are because you should love memore than you love them, becauseI’m your kid, notthem !

He didn’t say any of that, of course, and his mother wasn’t a telepath, like his dad and his Nan, the one on Betazed. So that was kind of a relief because that meant he could scream in his head as much as he wanted and not have to worry about making his mother upset. But he meant what he’d said to her now. His dad was really angry, because his dad was really sad, just like him, and so part of him wanted to cry, too. Jase drew in a deep, tremulous breath, and felt that peculiar, itchy sting in his nose that warned him he’d do just that if he weren’t careful. He was twelve, nearly a man, and men didn’t cry, or miss their mothers. He had to be brave and pretend that these little things like his mother missing his birthday, or not calling for weeks, sometimes months at a time didn’t matter. The way his dad pretended. So crying wouldn’t be good for anybody. He lived with his dad now, all the time, and he didn’t want to make it hard for his dad because then his dad might not let him come with him on digs and stuff. His dad neededhim to be brave….

“It’s hard,” said Ven Kaldarren. His tone was gentle. “Sometimes being brave is acknowledging that you’re not.”

Jase looked over at his father, who was still standing just off to one side, opposite the viewscreen so Jase’s mother hadn’t been able to see him. “What?”

“Being brave isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“I don’t understand.” Jase balled a fist against one eye and scrubbed hard, but his fist came away wet. “Is that what happened with you and Mom?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, did you decide that you couldn’t be brave anymore?”

“In what way?”

Jase chewed on the inside of his lower lip. Words were so hard sometimes. He wished he could just thinkwhat he wanted, pretend that there was an invisible link between his brain and his father’s mind, the way a computer downloaded information.

“Well, waiting, I guess,” said Jase, and then it was as if an invisible spigot in his mind had turned on and the words came pouring out, like water. “Waiting for Mom to come home, I mean. It was, like, you could keep pretending that having her around didn’t matter, and so that’s how you were playing at being brave when what was really braver was being able to tell her that you couldn’t wait around anymore. It was braver to tell her you were sad and angry than it was to keep pretending it didn’t matter that she loved Starfleet more than she loved you.”

Jase saw Kaldarren’s eyes change and turn inward, as if his father were staring into a deep well somewhere inside. Jase felt a hitch in his chest.

“Sorry,” said Jase, quickly, wanting to make things better. He was so stupid. No wonder his parents got divorced, with such a dumb kid. Jase knew: He was the reason they fought. Before they divorced, they fought all the time over him, and after, they’d fought over where he was supposed to live. Not that it made any sense: There was no place on his mom’s ship for a kid. But Jase didn’t understand why his mom fought so hard about having him go live with her family on Earth instead of his dad’s on Betazed. She didn’t even likeher family. Well—Jase picked at a cuticle on his thumb—she didn’t like her mother.Actually, neither did Jase. Every time his mom’s mom looked at him, he figured he’d done something wrong, because her mouth was always so pinched and tight, like she’d been sucking lemons.

A shadow crossed Kaldarren’s face. “Sorry. What are you sorry about?”

Jase hunched one shoulder. “I dunno. Stupid stuff.”

“No, stop that. You’re not stupid.” Kaldarren walked over to the boy and put his hand on Jase’s shoulder. Jase felt his father’s hand tremble a little, and he wondered if maybe his father would cry after all.

“You’re not stupid,” said Kaldarren, his voice firm even if his hand was not. “Don’t ever say that about yourself. And don’t apologize for how you feel. Your feelings are yours, Jase, and they’re as important as anyone else’s. Your mother’s, mine,” he ran his thumb along the soft down on Jase’s cheek, “just as important. Both of us want what’s best for you.”

“If that’s true,” said Jase, “then why did you and Mom divorce? If you and Mom care so much about me, why aren’t you still married?” It was a question that had no answer. Jase knew it, but he asked anyway.

To his credit, Kaldarren didn’t try to provide a definitive answer. “We just aren’t, Jase. Things do change, and I know that sounds trite, but it’s true. It’s like growing up and realizing that you like a certain vegetable you hated when you were a child. Things change. People change. In the best of all possible worlds, people should be able to change and adapt to each other. That’s what marriage is supposed to be about.”

“Then how come you didn’t?”

Kaldarren inhaled a deep breath then let it out in a long sigh. “I wish I knew. I guess the best answer I can come up with is that, somewhere along the way, your mother and I lost sight of each other. You know that old Earth saying, out of sight, out of mind? It’s supposed to mean that when something’s not right in front of you all the time, you tend to forget about it. In a marriage, even when two people are apart, they should still be able to hold a picture of the other person in their head, so that the other person is always in sight, someone to be aware of and know is there.”

“So who lost sight of who?”

“Whom,” Kaldarren corrected, absently, then moved his hand to riffle his son’s black hair. “Sorry. Parents can be pretty annoying.”

Especially when all your problems are because of their problems.Quickly, Jase clamped down on that thought; he didn’t think his dad would read his mind, but he wasn’t quite sure. There had been times on Betazed, before the divorce, when he’d heard his dad’s voice in his head, only faintly like a dying echo. (Like the time Jase had come downstairs because he was certain his parents were fighting, only he found them sitting in the dark, at the kitchen table, the air alive with silent shouts in that terrible, black stillness. And the way Jase had peered around the doorjamb, his panicked thoughts— no, no, no, no, this is my fault, they wouldn’t fight if it weren’t for me!—tumbling like rocks down a mountain in an avalanche. Only then his father had peered through the gloom, as if he’d known Jase was there, and Jase remembered hearing his father’s voice in his head, quite distinctly: No, son, don’t do that to yourself; this isn’t your fault.)

Now, Jase shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Kaldarren’s left eyebrow twitched with skepticism. “Well, anyway, I guess you’d say we lost sight of each other. I don’t know who did it first, but the point is that it happened, and we’ve tried to learn from it and not lose sight of you. That’s why I was angry with your mother just now, because I think she slipped a little.”