Chapter Three #2
“Some people—that’s to say there are some who think we should get ahead of this by having you say some words.
We’re talking to the other families about the same thing.
Nothing you’d write or anything. Just a prepared statement we would have you deliver in front of the press.
We could maybe have you take a question or two that we could plant with one of the reporters we work with a lot.
Someone you’re comfortable with. Perhaps someone from Life. ”
Was he serious?
“I don’t want to give a statement right now, Frank. I want you to find my husband.”
“I understand that, and like I told you, we’re trying, but there’s the public to think about. The space program is important. The public admires Joe. They feel like they know him. They care about him—about you.”
Vivian sort of doubted that the public cared much about her beyond the fact that she was Joe’s wife, but she wasn’t going to belabor the point.
“It would be helpful if you reminded the American people of how much Joe believed in this mission, of how committed you are as a family to the mission of going to the Moon. We think it would give people something to rally around. If you put on a brave face—we don’t want them to get the wrong idea, to think that space flight is too dangerous,” Frank continued.
“We’re so close to the Moon, Vivian. Joe wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize that. ”
For a moment, she could do little more than stare at the phone—her husband was missing, Frank’s best friend was missing, and Frank’s priority was the space program.
“We’ll draft something,” Frank said, not waiting for her response. “I’ll be in touch, Vivian.”
He hung up before she had a chance to say anything at all.
Vivian set the phone back on its cradle.
Was Frank right? Had she been so eager to hear from Joe that she had imagined the whole thing?
Had she been dreaming? After all, it didn’t make sense that Joe would be in range at this precise moment in time.
The squawk box only worked at a certain point in Joe’s voyage—they’d been over all this before.
And still—she knew what she had heard. She’d heard her husband’s voice as clearly as though he were standing here.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Vivian? Are you up? Can I come in?”
Vivian walked over to the door and opened it.
Polly stared at her over the threshold, closing the door behind her as she entered the room.
“You didn’t change yet?” Polly asked.
Vivian glanced down at her outfit, belatedly realizing that she was wearing her launch dress from yesterday. She and Polly had bought it on a shopping trip together when they’d first learned Joe was going to pilot this mission.
A new dress will make you feel better, Polly had suggested as she dragged Vivian from store to store while dread filled her stomach.
“I—I meant to. It just slipped my mind.”
Vivian placed her hand in her pocket, her fingers closing over the note that Joe had written her, the piece of paper Frank gave Joe before he boarded the spacecraft. She pulled the note out and read the words there again.
Wait for me.
When had Joe written this? Frank must have been mistaken—hardly surprising considering he was so focused on the launch—because there was no way this could have been the paper Joe took into the capsule.
Had he slipped the paper into her pocket earlier in the day when she wasn’t paying attention?
But how? It didn’t make sense—she hadn’t even seen him in person the day of the flight.
“What’s that?” Polly asked.
“It’s a note Joe gave me. Before he left.”
Polly shook her head, a faint smile on her lips.
“Joe always did put the other men to shame. How are you doing after the nap, honey? Can you eat a late lunch? I must tell you, you have your choice of casseroles out there, although I’d advise against trying Cecilia Murphy’s.
” Polly rolled her eyes. “Like we all don’t know she can’t cook. ”
Despite the horrors surrounding her, Vivian bit back a grin. Polly’s rivalry with Cecilia was legendary in the astro circles.
“I don’t think so. I’m not hungry.”
“I know, but it would be good for you to keep your strength up.” Polly hesitated. “I have to warn you, there are a lot of people in your living room.”
“Define a lot of people?”
“Seven. No one wanted you to be alone right now.” Polly made a face. “And Rick’s still here, of course.”
“To manage me for NASA.”
“To be with you during this difficult time,” Polly replied, her deadpan tone saying what she thought of the matter more than her words did.
Frank may have been a company man where the space program was concerned, but Polly had never been afraid to voice her opinions, even if she did so carrying a casserole dish.
“Polly—I think I heard Joe’s voice on the squawk box.”
No, she wasn’t going to do this now, wasn’t going to let Frank’s dismissiveness make her doubt herself.
She’d learned that being a fighter pilot’s wife and now an astro wife meant that there were times when no matter how much she was surrounded by people, she would be utterly alone, with only herself to rely upon.
She’d learned that sometimes—too often—it felt like she was going up against the very institutions her husband belonged to.
She needed to be strong, to advocate for herself, her family, her husband.
“No, I know I heard Joe’s voice. He said my name. A few times.”