August 1981
The all-astronauts meeting that Monday looked like any other. The astronauts and directors were seated at the conference table and around the room. The ASCANs were lined up against the wall, Joan, Griff, Lydia, and Vanessa crammed into a corner.
Donna and Hank slipped in quietly at the last minute and took up the remaining spots by the door.
Then Antonio walked in.
Joan knew something out of the ordinary was about to happen. And while other people might have called this a sixth sense, Joan recognized it for what it was: perception. Antonio was carrying himself differently, walking slower, and holding back a smile.
“Today is a day that I know the astronauts in this room remember fondly from their own time as ASCANs,” he said.
Joan looked at Griff, and he raised his eyebrows.
“In the fall of 1979, we received three thousand one hundred and twenty-two applications for the astronaut program. In the early winter of 1980, we interviewed one hundred and twenty-one finalists and selected the top eighteen to become astronaut candidates.”
Lydia caught Joan’s eye.
“Today, one year and one month after we began this training and evaluation, I can confidently say that the eighteen members of NASA Astronaut Group 9 have proven themselves to be some of the finest candidates NASA has ever had the pleasure to train. And it is my honor to declare that you are no longer ASCANs. Gentlemen—and ladies—we are immensely proud to call you, as of this moment, astronauts. Congratulations.”
Everyone started cheering. Joan caught Vanessa’s eye and, this time, could not bring herself to look away. Vanessa smiled.
—
Later that day, after elementary school was out, Joan picked up the phone at her desk at NASA and called Barbara.
“Can you put Frances on, too?” Joan asked.
Barbara called Frances to the phone, and when Joan could hear both of them, she told them the news.
“Did you get the silver pin?” Frances asked.
Joan was holding it in the palm of her hand. It was small and sharp. Ready to fly. “I am looking at it right now.”
Frances hollered, “Joanie! I am so proud of you!”
It unnerved Joan, just how quickly that made her choke up. She cleared her throat. “Thank you, babe,” she said.
“Well, how do you like that?” Barbara said. “My big sister is an astronaut.”
—
Everyone went to the Outpost that night to celebrate. Hank and Jimmy were buying rounds of beers, people were trickling in. It was early still, but getting rowdy quickly. When Duke offered to get a round for the whole bar, everyone in the place cheered, and then Hank turned to Donna and kissed her.
Lydia looked at Joan with her eyes wide. Joan laughed.
“So this is out in the open now?” Jimmy said.
Hank shrugged.
But Donna was beaming. When Donna caught her eye, Joan smiled at her, despite being filled with absolute terror. That one day she might smile like that, so unguarded.
“I suppose it is,” Hank said. And then, just above a shout: “We’re getting married. We thought y’all might as well know.”
The group cheered so loud Joan’s eardrums vibrated.
“Well, knock me over with a feather,” Jimmy said. “Hank giving up on happiness and tying his boat to a dock.” Jimmy laughed. “Good luck having a good time ever again!”
“Real nice, Jimmy,” Donna said.
“I’m just kidding!” Jimmy said. “Hank, get your girl to take a joke.”
“She takes a joke just fine, Jimmy.”
Vanessa arrived just then and came up next to Joan. “Why is everyone cheering?” she said. “The silver pins?”
Joan shook her head. “Hank and Donna are engaged.”
“Wow,” Vanessa said.
“It’s wonderful,” Joan said, but she couldn’t make her voice sound enthusiastic. Donna was hanging on to Hank’s arm, curling right into the space of his shoulder. Joan was mortified for her. “I guess.”
“You aren’t happy for her?” Vanessa said.
“I…they just think they’re very cute, don’t they? Two astronauts in love.”
Vanessa laughed. “Yeah, how awful. Two astronauts in love.”
—
Hours later, the bar had mostly cleared out. Griff, Lydia, Joan, and Vanessa were the only ones left.
“We did it,” Lydia said. “We actually did it. ”
“We did,” Vanessa said.
“I didn’t think either of you would make it,” Lydia said, pointing at Vanessa and Joan.
“All right, Lydia,” Vanessa said.
“No.” Lydia shook her head with a fluidity that made Joan realize she was absolutely hammered. “I’m saying…I’m saying…listen to me.”
“Why don’t I make sure you get home?” Griff said.
“Yes, fine, but wait,” Lydia said. “I had good reason to be worried. I mean, Vanessa is a glorified mechanic, okay? Don’t get upset.”
“No,” Vanessa said. “Why ever would I be upset by that?”
“Right, you get it. I’m not being offensive,” Lydia said. “And Joan, at first you were so meek. You were like a tiny little baby mouse and I thought, ‘She’s never even going to make it out of parachute training.’ But look at you!”
“Let’s move on to your larger point,” Joan said.
Lydia sighed. “I didn’t think I had much to learn. I mean, I’ve always been the smartest girl in the room,” she said. “My whole life. Do you know what that’s like? When it’s all you have? Neither of you probably do.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Lydia, I swear to God. You may be smarter than me, but you’re not smarter than Joan, so drop it. Just drop it. I’ve tried to be cool, but you’re really pressing on my nerves,” she said.
“It’s fine,” Joan said. “She’s fine.”
“She’s not, actually,” Vanessa said. And then she looked at Lydia. “You’re not.”
“You don’t like me. I get it,” Lydia said. “I’m used to it. Not many people like me. And I understand why, because I don’t care about you as much as I care about myself and it’s obvious. I don’t even know how to hide it.”
Vanessa shook her head. Griff buried his face in his hands and sighed. Joan kept listening.
“I’m just trying to tell you that I understand that you must have something going for you that I don’t have,” Lydia said. “Something I could learn from. I don’t know how to do that yet, but I do see it. I do see how great you two are. You have skills I am lacking. And I need to listen to you.”
Joan smiled at her. You had to keep the bar low with Lydia, but if you did, she would eventually surprise you.
“Go home and get some sleep,” Vanessa said.
Lydia nodded, and Griff led her out of the bar. As he left, he glanced back over his shoulder to give Joan an indecipherable look. It made her exceedingly aware that she and Vanessa were alone now. The beers she’d had were swirling around her head, which made it easier to look Vanessa in the eye.
“Lydia’s drunk,” Joan said. “But do you see what I’m saying, that she means well?”
“I see that she’s lonely,” Vanessa said, leaning back.
“I mean, everybody’s lonely.”
Vanessa shook her head. “No, not everybody. Are you lonely? You have Barbara and Frances.”
“Sure, no, I know. I’m not lonely.”
“That was unconvincing.”
“Well, are you lonely?”
“I don’t know how to answer that question,” Vanessa said.
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
Joan didn’t want to respond, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I can’t imagine you ever being lonely,” she said. “I can’t imagine that everyone’s not begging to stand next to you all the time.”
Vanessa looked at her but said nothing. Joan was losing control of what came out of her mouth.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Joan said.
“You do not want me to say what I’m thinking.”
Joan knew that this was true. But she also couldn’t resist the temptation. “I don’t know about that. I feel like I could know you forever and still be curious about what you’re going to say next.”
Vanessa leaned forward and lowered her voice: “I thought the same about you, the first time I saw you,” she said.
Joan’s chest began to feel heavy and leaden, like there was an anchor sinking into the tenderest parts of her heart.
“We should go,” Vanessa said. “I’ll drive you home.”
—
They drove in silence. Joan was unsure what to say that felt true.
When they pulled up to Joan’s building, Vanessa said, “Can we talk inside?” and Joan nodded.
A silence overtook them again as they made their way to Joan’s door and went in.
When Joan shut the door of her apartment, she felt like she could breathe again.
“I need you to understand something,” Vanessa said.
They both stood by the threshold.
“Okay.”
Vanessa looked at her and frowned. “I don’t know how to…” Vanessa exhaled. “I have a recurring dream,” she said finally.
“About what?” Joan hoped it was her.
“It’s my funeral. And I’m in the casket, but I’m alive—I’m actually completely fine. But no one can see that, or hear me. So they are all just crying. My mother is there. The other people change, but my mother is always there. And she’s always sobbing into a tissue. And she always talks about something that I never got to do. Sometimes it’s that I never had a family. Or I never got married.”
“Do you want those things?”
Vanessa shook her head. “It’s more about what my mom wants for me. But it’s always about how short my life was. And when I’m in the casket, I realize how little I did on Earth. That I didn’t get a chance to do something with the time I had.”
“Do you think it’s about your father?”
Vanessa shook her head again. “No, what I’m saying is that…Joan, you live in a world where time is on your side. But I don’t live in that world, Joan. You live there alone.”
“What do you mean?”
She inhaled deeply and blew out her next words like cigarette smoke. “I mean, don’t confuse my respect for you with patience.”
Joan felt the heat of Vanessa’s gaze. She understood that the real Vanessa had never looked right at her until now.
The real Joan could not look back. “I don’t think I understand what you are saying.”
“You spend a lot of time pretending you don’t understand what I’m saying.”
Joan looked away. She didn’t know how to be the person she knew she was.
“I don’t have a recurring dream, exactly,” Joan said. “But there is a type of dream that I keep having, ever since I was a teenager.”
“Okay…”
“I’m happy and doing something really simple,” Joan said. “I make dinner. Or I read a book. Or I hang up a picture. It’s always different houses. Sometimes it’s my parents’ old house. One time it was this mansion I saw in a movie. I’m always different ages, doing different things. There’s never anything risky about it, or dramatic. Nothing big happens. I’m just at home. Living my life.”
“But?”
Joan looked Vanessa in the eye, then. Forced herself to not look away. “I’m always alone, Vanessa.”
Vanessa looked down. Their hands were just an inch apart and Joan wanted to move her pinkie, to reach out and touch her. But she couldn’t bring herself to.
“I do understand what you’re telling me,” Joan said. “You won’t wait forever.”
Vanessa shook her head. “No, Jo. You don’t get it at all.”
The amber of Vanessa’s eyes was almost gold when the light hit it. The look of them, especially in this moment, was so complex that they reminded Joan of what her mother always said about her favorite landscape painting, which hung above the dining room table at their house. It “rewarded your attention.” Joan could stare into Vanessa’s eyes for hours and still never tire of all that they held.
“I’m scared I will wait forever,” Vanessa said, her voice a whisper. “And it will kill me.”
Joan’s heart began to pound.
“I’m begging you to tell me not to,” Vanessa said. “Please. Tell me I’m wasting my time. Tell me I’m crazy. Put me out of my misery, Joan. Can you do that?”
Joan looked at her. “I can’t tell you that.”
Vanessa stared at her.
“And I don’t want to tell you that.”
Vanessa held her gaze a moment longer and then pushed Joan up against the door and kissed her. Joan put her hands on Vanessa’s face and kissed her back. And, in that second, almost everything Joan had known about herself became untrue.
And everything she never thought she’d want or have was in her arms.
Vanessa tasted like salt. And she smelled the way she always smelled, but richer, the scent thicker. Joan pulled her closer, as hard as she could. For a moment, she worried that she was hurting her, pulling her that tight. But Vanessa sighed. And Joan’s arms went loose as she let go of her weight against the door and sank into her legs in a way she never had before.
Vanessa pulled away then, but Joan pulled her back. And it was partially because Joan was afraid to look at her, to face what she was finally letting herself do. But it was more that she had to have Vanessa’s body against hers, had to feel the weight of her. She wanted to be trapped between Vanessa and the door. To be asked to surrender to her.
Joan let her go, finally. And Vanessa pulled back slightly but did not go far. She looked at Joan, and Joan felt herself blush. Vanessa took her thumb and grazed it across Joan’s jaw. Joan’s muscles melted, and she felt like she could dissolve.
Joan knew then that Donna was not an idiot. And the Beatles were not nonsense. And that there had always been a place for her in this world. She had just been walking past it over and over again, never noticing that there was an unmarked door, waiting for her to discover it.