Atmosphere(47)

“I can be funny, you know.”

“No,” Donna said. “Nobody knew that.”


After dinner, Kris waved Joan over to one of the tents and showed her that Frances had fallen asleep with Julie in Julie’s sleeping bag. They were still in their day clothes, covered in dirt. Frances’s hair was in knots, chocolate on her cheeks.

Joan watched Frances snore with her mouth open, her little hand holding Julie’s as they slept. It passed through her mind that she wasn’t sure how often Frances got to see her friends outside of school.

“Do you want me to carry her over to your tent?” a voice said softly, from behind her.

Joan turned to see Griff.

“They’re okay,” Kris said. “Let her sleep. Julie does this all the time with her cousin Linda. She thinks she’s being sneaky, but it’s the only time she puts herself to bed.”

Joan laughed. “Okay, you sure? You want to come get me in the morning when she wakes up?”

“They’ll be fine,” Kris said.

Griff nodded toward the lakefront, and Joan followed him. The night air was warm, but there was an easy breeze. The sky was clear, the tops of Cygnus and Aquila straight ahead of them, behind the trees.

In the distance, Joan watched Vanessa, on the edge of the dock, having a beer with Steve. Joan felt like a moth that knew what a flame could do to it.

When Joan turned away from the sight of Vanessa, she saw Griff watching her.

He was quiet until they were farther away from the group.

“I wanted to tell you that it’s okay. I’m good, you don’t need to give me space anymore,” Griff said.

“Are you sure?” Joan asked. “I’ll do anything you need.”

Griff nodded, appreciatively. “Have you ever been in love?” he asked.

Joan could not look at him. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s like a bad cold: it’s miserable and then, one day, it’s gone.”

Joan laughed.

“All I’m saying is, let’s put it behind us.”

“Put what behind us?” Joan said, smiling.

Griff laughed. “Thank you.”

“You really are the best guy I’ve ever known,” Joan said.

“Well, let’s not start with that,” Griff said.

“No, I just mean . . .” Joan said. “There aren’t many men in my life, really. Aside from my father and the rest of . . . these guys. But you are good. You’re a good one.”

“Well, I try to be.”

“I know you do. And I’m honored to be your friend. I really mean that. I’m honored to work with you.”

“I feel the same.”

“So can we go back to walking over to JSC together?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“And we can get dinner?”

Griff raised his palm up. “One thing at a time, Goodwin.”

Joan smiled when she heard him call her that. But she did recognize that something had been lost between them that would never come back.

They walked on, farther from the campsite, before eventually heading back.

“Can I say one more thing?” Griff asked, just before they approached the camp. “That is not my place to say?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not going to pretend to know what’s in your heart. But you’ve said a few things, here and there, and I’ve . . . sensed a few things, maybe . . . and . . .”

He stopped and turned toward her. “If you do have feelings for someone—if that’s something that’s on your mind . . . I worry that you’re in a tough spot. Because as wrong as I think their position is, there are some things NASA doesn’t officially condone for astronauts. From what I’ve heard.”

Joan couldn’t breathe for a full second, her body forgetting how to let the air out of her lungs.

“You okay?” he said.

She nodded. “Thank you, Griff. For looking out. But I . . . I’m not sure what any of that has to do with me.”

“Okay,” he said. “I just . . . I will go to bat for you. If you need it. I just wanted you to know that. Regardless of you completely decimating my ego back in New Orleans . . .” he added, laughing.

“Would you stop?”

He kept laughing. “I’m just saying . . . my wounded pride wouldn’t affect what I believe to be right. Everyone should be free to live their lives, love anyone they choose. I’ve got your back, Goodwin. Okay? That’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Thank you, Griff, really,” Joan said. “But I have no idea what you’re talking about.”


Joan went back to her tent but, finding herself all alone in there without Frances, she couldn’t sleep. She could not quiet her mind—but also could not ignore the small splashes she kept hearing from time to time, some fish or bird out there in the lake. With a huff of frustration, she got out of her sleeping bag, unzipped her tent, and stood up.

There, on the dock, was Vanessa. She was skipping stones across the lake’s surface.

Joan looked up at the sky. Just based on where Vega hung, Joan suspected it was earlier than two A.M.

She could have returned to her tent and tried to fall asleep again. But the back of Vanessa’s body was lit by the brightness of the moon, and Joan walked to her.