EMAIL

From: Claudia Dalton <claudiadalton195@gmail.com>

Date: Thursday, July 9, 2015 10:15 PM EST

To: Jeffery Dalton <jeffdalton327@gmail.com>

Subject: Skylab

Dear Dad,

I waited. I waited for you for THREE HOURS at the entrance to Skylab. But you didn’t show up! From 5:45 p.m. until the museum closed at 9:00 p.m. Why would you do that? Why would you send me that flyer and the puzzle piece and tell me to watch those videos if you didn’t want me to come? If you didn’t want to see me?

Luis waited with me the whole time, clutching his video camera. He thought he was going to get a shot of us reuniting, you know, like they show on the news. Instead, I spent the entire time walking in and out of that stupid space station, looking at the packets of freeze-dried food, the sleeping bags Velcroed to the wall, and the huge tube-shaped shower, until I had memorized every square inch.

Papa came to get us when it was time to go. He had bought some astronaut ice cream and wanted to sit on the front steps of the museum and eat it before we drove home. We sat by a statue out front, a big stainless steel arrow with spiky stars at the top.

I knew Papa was trying to make me feel better, but the ice cream was disgusting. I always think it’s going to taste good—I mean, it’s freeze-dried ice cream!—but then it’s always so gross and powdery. It gets my hopes up and then disappoints me. Kinda like you.

Love, Claudia